I've been typing up my journal most of the day and have found that it is very long, even for just the four busy days, one spent at Golconda Fort and three in Delhi/Agra. I've doubled my journal up to 17 single-spaced pages. I certainly wouldn't want any of you to ever feel obligated to read it all, so I'm going to do the best I can to copy/paste just enough and not too much. Also, I've posted some pictures on my photobucket account which can be found here http://s2.photobucket.com/albums/y46/deafelephant/India/.
Friday 21 August 2009
Today I finally felt up for a solo adventure beyond the half hour walk around the hotel and not so tethered to the hotel bathroom. Early afternoon, I struck out for Golconda Fort which is southwest of the city and on the highest hill in the area. The fort has lots of interesting history, which I read about in “Hyderabad: A Biography” but I won't go too much into that. It was initially the place the king of the area lived before he moved into Hyderabad. It was a very safe place where the natives were able to hold out against the Moghals, led by Aurangazeb, for eight months until someone within the fort betrayed them.
The ride to the fort was somewhere between 30 and 60 minutes and quite bumpy; my lower back hurt the next day. While walking up to the ticket counter, a man approached and helped me without asking then walked me past the gate towards the fort entrance. He gave me some of the history and interesting details of the fort, while I was asking “What?” the whole time. Finally, he said he'd give me a tour for Rs 600 (which is way more than the guidebook said) and when I pointed out I have trouble understanding him he said he would speak louder. He then proceeded to speak quite loud at the sign with a map of the interior, pointing out the different things. Then we proceeded to just inside the gate where there was a 2 meter square area where you could clap and hear the multiple sudden vibration from the specially designed ceiling. There used to be eight gates at the fort and this clapping could be heard at any of them from any of them which was a crucial part of the fort's effectiveness – the ability to instantly alert for intruders. Then he asked again if I wanted the tour and I tried to decline as politely as I could.
I noticed another potential guide walking towards us just as the first guy was walking away and I pretended not to notice him while I continued to walk at a moderate pace away. He finally caught up to me after calling “Madam!” a few times but not loud enough that it seemed rude that I didn't “notice.” He then started giving me a tour and led me to this stone weighing 500 pounds and kept insisting “You want to try lifting it?” I kept saying “Uh no, I know I can't budge it. What's the point?” Finally, I gave in and gave it a tug. I actually felt some movement but I could tell the guy got a kick out of seeing a skinny white woman trying to move it. He said that it used to be required to lift it in order to join the army.
We slowly made out way towards the other end of the lower part of the fort. I kept insisting I only had Rs 100 (I did have 500 more but it was for emergencies) and I didn't really want a tour anyway. I tried to exhibit that I knew the history of the fort and I was unimpressed that it was three whole kilometres to walk the main trail inside of the fort but he wasn't dissuaded. He seemed to think that he could speak perfect English and that I was the one who had trouble understanding and speaking it which was both annoying and humorous to me. I kept trying to mention that I was hearing impaired, hard of hearing, but he simply refused to believe me even when I was totally lost at what words he was trying to use. Yet he stuck to me like a tick and I finally agreed I'd give him the 100 if he gave me a partial tour which included the Princess's palace.
He took my picture a few times in different places, showed me where you could flick at taut clothing and hear it amplified, where the room under the king's bedroom which was the guest room had special acoustics so you could hear a whisper from the opposite corner and the king could hear every word said in the room from his room. He also pointed out a shelf-like second floor where the scribes would write the official business down and store the writing - “They had to be short!” to be able to fit comfortably up there. It was the only time I made a successful comment “Oh the library!” He of course didn't know I was a librarian but he responded humorously.
Finally, we were done with the palace and he mentioned that the path to the top started just ahead, after the entrance to the tunnel leading to Charminar, and I was to come down the other way. I gave him the 100 and he gave me back my pen (he used to write numbers down on his hand so I could understand them) but not without acting ripped off and indignant. He had offered to do the whole tour for Rs 200 but I sternly reminded him I only had 100. There was even a whole “well, there's an atm, well, you could take me back to the hotel and pay me, well, the driver would certainly have money you could give me” but I was just like “No.” Finally, I struck out for the top without him, fully expecting to be bombarded by yet another hopeful guide.
Surprisingly, no one approached me after that to offer me their services. A teenaged girl asked me if her friend could take a picture of me and her. I was confused but deciding there was no harm in it, went along with it. They giggled after taking it and then another friend asked for the same which I again obliged before continuing upwards. Everyone stared at me, even more so than I'd noticed within the city. I wasn't wearing anything provocative, just long pants and loose short-sleeved shirt. I did see two white men who were with guides. One of them was quite out of shape and wore shorts yet for some reason seemed to think I was the one deserving the stares. There were at least half a dozen other instances of people taking my picture. I didn't really mind; they did ask and were polite about it. Between the stares and the pictures I did start to internally grumble and wonder if they had come to see me or the fort.
I kept snapping pictures as I went up – I had to stop often anyway to rest, drink water, and make sure I didn't overheat. The view at the top was spectacular. I had no idea where and what things I was seeing but I had a vague idea of where the center of Hyderabad was. On the way down, I walked behind a little girl who went down every step by herself. She was very cute and I managed to take a candid shot of her and her mother. I saw the building where Ramdas was held (that did have walls and doors) and the Qutub Shahi Mosque (name of the rulers who created and resided in Golconda).
When I reached the entrance at the bottom of the hill again, I saw a man who looked familiar and who seemed to recognize me. I was planning on calling the driver from my cellphone but then I realized this just might be him. After following him (he was going my way anyway) and he mentioned that would bring the car around, I figured out that it was the driver. Indians don't exactly all look alike, but there's so many of them they tend to run together in my mind. He asked where I wanted to go next and I wearily said “Back to the hotel.” I was relieved to make it back and just be able to sit and rest with no one staring at me.
Saturday 22 August 2009
Colin came home later than usual Friday night. We were planning on taking a 5 am flight to Delhi with Prashant. However, we ran into a lot of hurdles, which I don't want to recount here. There were times when both of us, already tired from very little sleep during the night, almost decided to call the whole thing off. But we slept uncomfortably on the two hour flight and landed in Delhi with no further mishaps. Saturday we drove around seeing the highlights of the city with Prashant narrating. I caught a glimpse of a monkey sitting on top of the fence on the way into the city. There was also a parade of statues depicting Mahatma Gandhi and some of his prominent followers walking in a line.
The first stop was near the President's Estate and Secretariat buildings. It was hot and everything was blocked off so we didn't linger long and just took some pictures in front of the gate. Clearly visible was the India Gate with Rajpath, which reminds me of DC's Mall, in between. We drove over to India Gate and had a longer time standing around it and taking pictures. The gate is a tribute to the Indian soldiers who died in World War I. Next, we stopped at Humayun's Tomb. The tombs are strange here – there's a wall surrounding gardens and waterways that are symmetrical and in the center is a big structure which is open-air and contains the tombs. I really didn't like figuring out that a dark slab hanging from one of the archways was a huge bee's nest. Colin took pictures of it and said he could hear the faint humming from way down (thankfully) to where we stood.
Prashant had a relative who owned a clothing shop so we visited it. “Visiting” is a much more appropriate word for what one does when they go to a higher end shop or bazaar in India than most shops in the U.S. They always greet you, show you around, and incessantly suggest what you should buy. They will ask if you want a drink for free (with the expectation that you will be spending a lot anyway) and will bring you tea or coffee. Needless to say, this can be really stressful especially if you're not that into shopping for clothes, which neither of us are. They tried to find something for Colin but not for long before they asked me what pretty things I wanted. As for fabric and colors, I've always known what I like and don't like so it didn't take long to pick out a red and blue fabric with gold patterned border. When asking how much a shirt would be, Prashant decided that it was ridiculously priced and then there was a long discussion between him and the shop owner while Colin and I sat there nervously drinking our coffee. The price remained and Prashant was still skeptical but he and Colin both agreed I had picked out something that was very nice for me so in the end we ordered the shirt which was promised to be at the hotel that night.
We hadn't had breakfast, so Prashant took us to lunch in Connaught Place, which is the central hub of the city before we made our last tourist stop of the day at Sadfarjang's Tomb. Prashant voted to stay in the air conditioned car while we went into the nearly isolated tombs. It wasn't as big and impressive as Humayun's but it was still nice and had been modeled after Humayun's with the same Mughal garden layout.
The hotel was more extravagant than we'd expected. I really liked the shower which was roomy and the water drizzled down from the center. We slept like logs for about three hours before the person with the shirt rang our bell. I tried it on – it was very hard to get over my head and shoulders because it wasn't roomy nor did it stretch at all. It looked very nice but I determined I wouldn't be able to wear it for long periods of time because arm movement was quite restricted.
We went downstairs for dinner at a restaurant called 24/7. I had lasagna which actually came with real beef. It tasted different but the fact that there was any was astounding. We also shared a glass of wine which we hadn't had in India yet and it was a pretty good merlot. Then we went back up to the room, showered, and fell into bed.
Sunday 23 August 2009
We were so tired and weren't looking forward to the long bus ride to Agra when we woke up. Again, we went through the same process of wondering if it was worth it. And yes, it turned out just like Saturday had; the trip to Agra was worth it. In the hotel lobby we were given our breakfast boxes and then introduced to a fellow traveler, Almira. She was from NYC and it was so nice to be able to have a real conversation with someone without straining to understand and be understood but on the other hand, I'm not a morning person so it was a struggle to keep up with the peppy Almira. She was in India doing research for a book and had spent the past week riding in ambulances in Mumbai. She would be going to Hyd Monday but we didn't see any chance that she'd have time to meet up with me or both of us while she was there.
The bus was really a van with 11 seats. We were the first ones on, along with an elderly white man from our hotel who turned out to be Bolivian. We picked up other tourist (all white) from various high-end hotels – one more man and four other women. The third man who was Israeli named Rudy. The other tourists were characters and created continuous exasperating amusement for Colin and me (you know the type - tourists who think they are better than anyone else).
On the six-hour bus ride to Agra, we stopped at the Jaigurudey Temple. It wasn't immediately clear what it was and I admit to wondering if it was the Taj Mahal (it was white and had domes!), but realized it couldn't be since it was right next to the road (I had read there was a perimeter around the Taj Mahal where no motorized vehicles were allowed) and didn't strike me as overly big. We didn't go inside, only stopped to take pictures from the side of the road.
When we finally reached Agra, we picked up our tour guide before reaching the Taj Mahal. I'm not sure what I can say about it – the best writers in the world have tried and failed, so who am I kidding? It was big. It was white. It was hot. It was fairly crowded. I did like the idea that the entrance was known as “the lady's burqa” since the Taj Mahal is the mausoleum of a queen. An interesting connection – the king which was very in love with his queen had the Taj Mahal built for her when she died. His son was Aurangazeb, who wasn't a very nice guy. He imprisoned his father in the more loved daughter's quarters in Agra Fort, from which he could see Taj Mahal until he died. Aurangazeb was the Mughal who took Golconda Fort.
One of the more unique experiences was that Colin noticed some markings on many of the stones. Though we never found out for sure, we suspect they were the marks people put on them when they moved them to build the Taj Mahal so that it was clear which ones were theirs and how much was owed them (similar to cattle branding).
Throughout Delhi, we'd noticed creatures that look like chipmunks but are distinctly different especially the flat striped bushy tail. Their body build is different as are the stripes on their backs.
Lunch was at a hotel. Almira couldn't eat because she was fasting for Ramadan which had started the night before. Her parents are Muslims who immigrated from Turkey. She made up some food to eat after the sun went down on our busride back to Delhi. Next we were taken to a marble place, where they inlay colorful stone patterns into marble. Afterwards we were ushered (herded) into the showcase rooms. The first had these huge elephants and I said to Colin - in jest, mind you "Wanna take a baby elephant home?" He mentioned something else about them and then we were stuck in one of the shopkeepers' snares - "Oh you want elephant! Follow me! Come! Come!" And we get dragged through a series of rooms to one where there are much smaller elephants. I don't remember their price but it was certainly higher than we wanted to spend anyway. The shopkeeper played with the elephants, moving them and making soft trumpeting noises. "No, sorry," we repeated many times. Then we got pushed to other things and almost had to go to the second level where they had textiles but then - oh darn! Look at that, a power out! and we skedaddled away back to the bus as fast as we could. We wondered where the other people were and then finally they came back on the bus, saying they had been waiting for us and thinking we were still inside somewhere. Only one person got something.
Next, we made our way to Agra Fort. It was red and nice - and there were monkeys! You could see the Taj Mahal from where the builder viewed it while he was imprisoned in one of his daughter's quarters by his son Aurangazeb. The king had two princesses with different quarters – one marble, one plaster. It was an unmistakable way to show that he liked one more than another. The girl who had bought something from the marble place had it in her backpack which accidentally opened up and dropped the marble on the stone floor. It had been package in bubblewrap and they had promised us that it would be safe. Well, oops - part of it chipped despite the wrapping. On our way back to the bus, we were mobbed by very pushy people trying to sell us souvenirs. Rudy did buy something from one of them and ran onto the bus but the rest of them weren't dissuaded and kept trying to sell him more things even after the bus started moving, sticking their hands through the door. Colin had some fun with them while we walked to the bus. To some game: "Sorry I don't know how to play that game." To the weird wooden snake: "I don't have an enemy I hate that much." but the best was Rudy who yelled "I don't know how to read!" to one of them as we were trying to drive away. After we went back to the marble place so the girl could get her item replaced, we dropped off the guide and headed back to Delhi. The ride back was shorter, less than five hours, and we had a nice dinner with Almira before heading off to bed.
Monday 24 August 2009
If any of you know much about Delhi and are wondering if we made it to the Red Fort, we weren't able to, unfortunately. It was closed for some reason during the time we were there but we did get to see it from the outside while whizzing by in the car. However, I confess that I have already fused the memories of Red Fort and Agra Fort (they're both forts and they're both red) in my mind so there's nothing I can say about it except that if I ever do go back to Delhi, it will be at the top of my list of places to visit.
What we did do today was go shopping. Colin had stomach trouble in the morning so we took our time before heading out. We knew that the shopping areas were not very far from the Lalit Hotel (the francophones among you will know that means “the bed”) so we had planned to walk there. Just outside the hotel gate, a man walked up to us and offered us a ride to the Central Cottage Industry Symposium for a low price. We agreed and I got my first autorickshaw ride. Shopping here made the first shopping experience with Prashant seem easy – we ended up getting a bit more than we would have liked and by the end I was so tired of making decisions but we were mostly satisfied with what we got. I can't really say what we got because that would spoil the surprise of many Christmas presents!
Colin and I decided to dump our driver and walk the rest of the day. He insisted that it was dangerous to walk in the city (not during the daytime) and that people would put poop on our shoes and then demand a ridiculous amount of money to clean it off (which didn't happen). This was dramatic; we asked to be dropped off at a corner which turned out to be further north (further from the hotel) than he told us it was and he acted ... well, I don't know how to describe it but Colin suggested that he seemed “ sad that he didn't completely fleece us like the silly tourists we are?” But we wouldn't have any of it; he had repeatedly said “Pay me whatever you like at the end of the trip – 100, 200, whatever.” Colin way overpaid him with 200 and the driver hadn't even taken us to the hotel and since Colin had used the auto rickshaws in Hyd, he knew the driver had no right to even pretend to be ripped off.
After that, people started coming up to us appearing friendly and wanting to help. We quickly learned that they lied to us and gave us the wrong directions to the circle. While we were walking, I kept feeling like we were going the opposite direction and that the Connaught Place circle was behind us. Turned out I was right and we warded off all other attempts to “help” us. I had really wanted to go to a handmade paper store and we got close then asked a guard where it was. I zeroed in on picking things out quickly while Colin diverted the shopkeepers. When they asked what he wanted he said “Oh, no, this is her domain. She knows what she's doing. She's a librarian, after all.” I got my journal to put with my Italian one. The Indian one is covered in dry grass and the Italian one is leather and I have no idea if I'll ever use either - I think it's a way to tell myself there are more memories to be made if I ever revisit the countries. I got another one because I really liked the cover but I'll probably use it. The walk back was extremely hot and it turned out that we hadn't had enough water so I was very glad to sit in the cool lobby and drink water until we had to make our way to the airport.
The flight back was late but never listed as "delayed." They switched terminals but right when we were supposed to be boarding they were boarding people for a different flight and the previously assigned gate started boarding for somewhere else too. There were actually a lot of white people on our flight, including a guy that I commented looked like was from Kansas. He was taller than Colin and younger with blonde hair, cargo shorts, and converse sneakers. And he looked lost and more worried than we were. Finally, we got on our plane and made it back to Hyd an hour late. I couldn't sleep on the plane so I finished "Eat, Love, Pray" (which is a great book). We had some trouble finding our driver. There was some stormy weather while we were flying and it was raining on the drive to the hotel. It was good to finally be back and catch up on some sleep.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Nothing terribly exciting, but an update nonetheless
I haven't written lately because there hasn't been a lot to say; I've spent most of the past week dealing with stomach problems. Sometimes I felt okay for a few hours but I never trusted myself to stray too far from the hotel bathroom. Toilets here are interesting; the one in the hotel is “European style,” which means a regular kind of flush toilet we're used to. “Indian toilets,” which I haven't actually seen or used yet, are much more primitive and require you to squat. There is also either toilet paper which you use and put in a separate place (not in the toilet) or a way to use your hand and water. I haven't been eager to experience using these bathrooms with the diarrhea I've had.
This past weekend, after spending nearly all of the week in the hotel, we had planned to go out and do something, but once again, we weren't able to. It seemed that we were rotating who was feeling sick and who was just fine. We did manage to have dinner on Sunday night with Fazal (Colin's coworker who had previously been working in Chicago and will come back in October when his visa is valid again). It was nice to see a somewhat familiar face, even though I'd only met him once while he was in Chicago.
I spend most of the time reading; my . It's great that the TV stations already has captions put on Western movies in English since the TV does not have a way to turn on the captions, but I don't watch much; it's usually the same movies repeatedly such as “Fantastic Four: The Silver Surfer.” We have watched “Bee Movie,” “
We've ordered room service a few times. It is actually much cheaper than eating in the restaurant downstairs. There is continental breakfast buffet in the morning and I always get a hardboiled egg as part of my meal. The coffee is interesting; it appears to be very strong coffee which is brewed and then when someone orders it, they put some in a cup with steamed milk. It is very different but definitely tasty.
Most food is traditional Indian food, but they do attempt to make American or European cuisine. “French toast” is bizarre – it is two slim pieces of slightly toasted bread with a thin layer of red jelly in between them. The pasta is okay, but just don't expect it to be great. On the room service menu there are choices for hamburgers but they never eat beef here so the choices are vegetarian and turkey. I've eaten these before the trip and am not a big fan of them, but might get one just to try it.
I've been slowly feeling better, so hopefully, at the very least I will be able to enjoy the weekend in Delhi and at the Taj Mahal. We plan to fly there Saturday morning with Prashant (Colin's boss) to see some of Delhi. On Sunday, after Prashant leaves to go back to Chicago, we'll make our way to the Taj Mahal before flying back that night to Hyderabad.
Yesterday it rained constantly. There has been very little rain during this monsoon season in the area, which they heavily depend upon for their crops, so the rain was definitely welcome. I tried to take pictures of the rain but if you've ever tried to do that, you'll know that it's hard to do. I noticed a small boy run out onto the balcony in one of the apartments across from us when it first started raining midday. He stuck his hand out between the bars, trying to feel the drops. Soon his mother followed him, holding a bowl and a spoonful of food, coaxing him back inside to continue eating lunch.
The rain did cause problems though; Colin wasn't able to get home until about 10 pm last night. The roads and traffic were disastrous. Colin usually doesn't get home until sometime after eight but the car leaves the hotel no earlier than 9:30 in the morning. It was expected that he would have long hours but it should be easier to get home when Prashant leaves because then Colin can come back without waiting for him. Even then, he'll most likely spend most of the evening working, but I've told him that's much better than him coming back so late.
Tonight we're going out with Prashant to a Chinese restaurant. I'm eager to have non-Indian food, see what Chinese food is like here, but most of all get the chance to leave the hotel.
This past weekend, after spending nearly all of the week in the hotel, we had planned to go out and do something, but once again, we weren't able to. It seemed that we were rotating who was feeling sick and who was just fine. We did manage to have dinner on Sunday night with Fazal (Colin's coworker who had previously been working in Chicago and will come back in October when his visa is valid again). It was nice to see a somewhat familiar face, even though I'd only met him once while he was in Chicago.
I spend most of the time reading; my . It's great that the TV stations already has captions put on Western movies in English since the TV does not have a way to turn on the captions, but I don't watch much; it's usually the same movies repeatedly such as “Fantastic Four: The Silver Surfer.” We have watched “Bee Movie,” “
We've ordered room service a few times. It is actually much cheaper than eating in the restaurant downstairs. There is continental breakfast buffet in the morning and I always get a hardboiled egg as part of my meal. The coffee is interesting; it appears to be very strong coffee which is brewed and then when someone orders it, they put some in a cup with steamed milk. It is very different but definitely tasty.
Most food is traditional Indian food, but they do attempt to make American or European cuisine. “French toast” is bizarre – it is two slim pieces of slightly toasted bread with a thin layer of red jelly in between them. The pasta is okay, but just don't expect it to be great. On the room service menu there are choices for hamburgers but they never eat beef here so the choices are vegetarian and turkey. I've eaten these before the trip and am not a big fan of them, but might get one just to try it.
I've been slowly feeling better, so hopefully, at the very least I will be able to enjoy the weekend in Delhi and at the Taj Mahal. We plan to fly there Saturday morning with Prashant (Colin's boss) to see some of Delhi. On Sunday, after Prashant leaves to go back to Chicago, we'll make our way to the Taj Mahal before flying back that night to Hyderabad.
Yesterday it rained constantly. There has been very little rain during this monsoon season in the area, which they heavily depend upon for their crops, so the rain was definitely welcome. I tried to take pictures of the rain but if you've ever tried to do that, you'll know that it's hard to do. I noticed a small boy run out onto the balcony in one of the apartments across from us when it first started raining midday. He stuck his hand out between the bars, trying to feel the drops. Soon his mother followed him, holding a bowl and a spoonful of food, coaxing him back inside to continue eating lunch.
The rain did cause problems though; Colin wasn't able to get home until about 10 pm last night. The roads and traffic were disastrous. Colin usually doesn't get home until sometime after eight but the car leaves the hotel no earlier than 9:30 in the morning. It was expected that he would have long hours but it should be easier to get home when Prashant leaves because then Colin can come back without waiting for him. Even then, he'll most likely spend most of the evening working, but I've told him that's much better than him coming back so late.
Tonight we're going out with Prashant to a Chinese restaurant. I'm eager to have non-Indian food, see what Chinese food is like here, but most of all get the chance to leave the hotel.
Monday, August 10, 2009
First Indian Experiences
4-6 August 2009 Tuesday-Thursday
Traveling to Hyderabad, India
The trip has been an overwhelming experience. I feel like I am still arriving. Our 777 took off from O'Hare at 7:20 pm on Tuesday (August 4) night and lasted 14 hours and 40 minutes. We were lucky and got to change our seats to window and aisle in the back (Section 3) of the plane instead of seats which would have let Colin have an aisle and me one of the middle seats.
We were able to see many places on our flight despite sleeping, it being dark, or having the window closed most of the time. The sun was just barely set when we started our mostly northward journey over Wisconsin, Lake Michigan, Traverse City, Charlevoix, Mackinac Island, the Soo, and onwards through the vast Canadian wilderness, peering down at the landscape of lights shimmering in the enveloping darkness. I was so excited to be able to spot what was below us by the shape of the land defined by the lakes. "Lake Ann, where Aunt Bobbie has a cabin, is one of those itty bitty lakes right there." "I can see Becca's house! Well, not really, but I know it's right in there." I was worried I wouldn't be able to see Charlevoix, but sure enough, there was the tell-tale cluster of Round Lake and Lake Charlevoix, with Beaver Island and its necklace of smaller islands nearby. I couldn't exactly pick out where Burnett Road was; the trees seem to block almost all the light in that area, but I figured out a pretty good approximation of where it, or at least Brooks Hill, was.
We were still awake a couple hours or so later, when we looked out and tried to make sense of what we saw. Colin kept wanting to open the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of the Aurora Borealis (northern lights) as he had on this trip to Spain, but there were no mystical dancing colors to be seen. However, there was clouds/water/ice below us - what it was I could never quite decide, especially since the texture would change and the flight status map wouldn't show us near Greenland yet. I took some Benadryl and by the time we got to Iceland, I was so out of it that when Colin tried to wake me up, excitedly pointing out Rejkjavik, it was all I could do to say "mmph" and promptly go back to sleep without looking out the window. Sometime while we slept the sun "rose" in the west and we flew straight over Moscow. I woke up a bit before Colin and sometime after Colin woke up, I was able to crack open the window to see desert below. Soon we came to the Himalayas which were, of course, awesome. Just as we were about to hit the tarmac in New Delhi the sun was setting again.
Delhi
The first encounter on Indian soil was a mostly stressful experience but not overly negative. We were made to fill out a form declaring that yes, we were coming from a country where there were cases of the H1N1 flu and no, we hadn't had a fever in the last few days. There was a queue where they checked with an infrared camera for anyone who might be feverish before we went through the normal checkpoint. The bored guy who scanned my passport and visa didn't say a word to me, merely stamping it before shooing me on. Colin had a different story; his passport was a couple years older than mine and showed a picture and signature from high school. His signature on the entrance form was very different from the one on the passport and the guard didn't think the picture resembled Colin enough to be authentic. It took a long time, in which I started to slightly panic and try to figure out what I'd do if he wasn't let through. But thankfully, he was. Otherwise this would be a very different story.
The bus ride took us right on the runways themselves to cross and get to the domestic air terminal. When we stepped out, the heat, humidity, and smells hit us full on. The limited experience I've had with India so far involves very distinct spicy smells. I don't know how else to describe them. To add to the sense of bizarreness, our soap reminds us of green jello in look and smell.
That night, Wednesday night, was spent in the domestic terminal in New Delhi. It was unwise to go out after the sun had set and our flight was really early so trying to find a hotel room didn't make much sense anyway. The security was different; there was no one else there at the time so the guards were all clustered in groups. They ushered me to a screening room for females where I was checked by a female guard who I managed to understand when she asked "5:50 flight??" like "You're seriously staying here until then?" We had 7 and a half hours to go.
The night was spent mostly staring into space or reading. Colin managed an hour of sleep and I laid down for fifteen minutes with no success. There was wireless and it was even free, but we didn't have the right power adaptors and couldn't access the internet anyway; we had to have a code sent as a text message to a cellphone. We did try sending it to my US phone but it never came. The airport filled up with people as the night wore on, but at first it was almost barren except for the employees.
When the time finally dwindled down to less than two hours before boarding time, we walked over to a sort of cafe and got coffees and pastries for about 5 USD total. While it wasn't a full breakfast and my paper cup leaked, it was delicious. I decided ahead of time I wasn't going to even pretend to try to understand what exactly I ate here. We got a fuller breakfast on the two-hour flight and one of the ladies sitting near us was from Michigan and was visiting extended family near Hyderabad with her husband who was also Indian and their two young sons. The flight was largely uneventful which tends to be a good thing for flights. We were served breakfast and I picked the omelet again.
Hyderabad
The first thing I noticed was that Hyderabad seemed significantly cooler than Delhi at 6 in the morning had been. This is only relative though; the humidity is quite high and it's usually in the 80s during the day.
After disembarking, we really didn't have a clue how we were going to get to the hotel. Magically, there was a sign saying “Mr. Colin Alworth” and the guy led us to a car from the hotel. The ride into the city was overwhelming (I can't think of any other word to describe these first Indian encounters). Honking seems to be the way to alert other drivers. I don't think they even have turn signals – they certainly never use them. Some of the buses have “Please honk” written on the back of them. When Colin asked a coworker what this really meant (was it to be funny or was it serious?), the coworker didn't know. I don't remember much of the rest of Thursday; jet lag had taken over by then. I know there was some napping, Colin went to the office for a couple of hours, and then it was bedtime.
7 August 2009 Friday
Today was Colin's first full day at work. Both of us were dealing with stomach issues, mostly gas, all day. The power adaptor I had at the hotel for my computer failed to work. The older, British version of “Death at a Funeral” was on TV after dinner so we watched it. We weren't very tired so we fell asleep around 2 am.
8 August 2009 Saturday
We slept in and missed the breakfast hours. I was feeling “cabin fever” and finally got Colin to go with me outside. It was just a walk around the block but for a first taste of being within the city it was overwhelming. We didn't stop anywhere and no one grabbed at us. Later, I didn't feel good so we stayed in the rest of the day. We also asked for a new adaptor but didn't get it probably because they forgot about it.
9 August 2009 Sunday
We went out to lunch across the street (the first time I'd eaten outside of the hotel since we'd arrived) at a place that was called a coffee shop. The two dishes were really spicy, but one more so than the other. They were both different types of flat breads with different sauces to dip into. Our mouths were on fire, our eyes were red, and I was constantly blowing my nose. The price was roughly a third of what lunch at the hotel would have been. There was some drizzle while we were out and quite a bit of lightning at one point, but it never really rained. When we came back in, it was Colin's turn to feel bad and we ended up not going back out that day. I finally got a plug adaptor that works!
10 August 2009 Today
Colin's boss had flown in during the night from visiting his family elsewhere in India and he joined us for breakfast. I had my first excursion out of the hotel without Colin. It was only two hours, at a bookstore, but when the driver asked if I wanted to go back to the hotel I said “yes” with relief. It's not that I don't like being out there (haven't made up my mind yet), but it's just so overwhelming. Everything here is overwhelming. I thought I'd have lots to write about while being here but it turns out the problem is I simply can't seem to make much sense of it myself, let alone come up with conclusions and witty insights.
I spent more at the bookstore than I had intended to; I had told myself to get only two or three books and then other things I liked. No one thing was overly expensive to me and the books had prices that were really attractive for an American bookworm. For 1822 rupees, or 38 dollars, I got six books, two notebooks, four pens, and nailclippers. The most expensive book was 295 rupees, or just over 6 dollars and it's the Hyderabad history book (“Hyderabad: A Biography” by Narendra Luther). There's also an English-Hindi phrase book and a small travel book on Hyderabad. I made sure not to get just non-fiction books related to India; I got “Eat, Pray, Love” (Elizabeth Gilbert), “Setting Free the Bears” (John Irving), and “Freakonomics” (Levitt and Dubner).
While normally I would have probably put back at least half the books, the prices weren't the only reason I got so many; Colin insisted that this is my vacation and I don't have to go and have a hair-raising adventure every day. After all, I am traveling for four weeks and I intend to do lots of reading during the much-needed downtime. I brought very little but I did bring, along with the thick India travel guide, three reading books and I'm almost done with the second one.
When I was back at the hotel room, someone dropped off an elaborate flower basket that contains 13 roses and a cluster of white flowers. They still had droplets clinging to their petals and there was no indication of where they came from so I assumed it was normal hotel business.
For lunch, I went back to the coffee shop and ordered one of the same things we'd had yesterday – but asked for “not too spicy.” I was surprised to find how quickly I've adapted to spice because I dipped almost every piece in the sauces. It was very good. Along with a liter of mineral water and a cup of coffee, the lunch was about 125 rupees – a grand total of $2.50. When I walked back to the hotel, I realized I had metal coins in the money belt. I had to pull it out of my pants and fish them out, putting them in the basket before walking through the metal detector. I smiled, showing that I realized the comic scene I just gave them and they certainly acknowledged that yes, that was rather silly. From now on, I'm putting the coins in my pocket. Coins are worth no more than ten cents a piece, after all.
Traveling to Hyderabad, India
The trip has been an overwhelming experience. I feel like I am still arriving. Our 777 took off from O'Hare at 7:20 pm on Tuesday (August 4) night and lasted 14 hours and 40 minutes. We were lucky and got to change our seats to window and aisle in the back (Section 3) of the plane instead of seats which would have let Colin have an aisle and me one of the middle seats.
We were able to see many places on our flight despite sleeping, it being dark, or having the window closed most of the time. The sun was just barely set when we started our mostly northward journey over Wisconsin, Lake Michigan, Traverse City, Charlevoix, Mackinac Island, the Soo, and onwards through the vast Canadian wilderness, peering down at the landscape of lights shimmering in the enveloping darkness. I was so excited to be able to spot what was below us by the shape of the land defined by the lakes. "Lake Ann, where Aunt Bobbie has a cabin, is one of those itty bitty lakes right there." "I can see Becca's house! Well, not really, but I know it's right in there." I was worried I wouldn't be able to see Charlevoix, but sure enough, there was the tell-tale cluster of Round Lake and Lake Charlevoix, with Beaver Island and its necklace of smaller islands nearby. I couldn't exactly pick out where Burnett Road was; the trees seem to block almost all the light in that area, but I figured out a pretty good approximation of where it, or at least Brooks Hill, was.
We were still awake a couple hours or so later, when we looked out and tried to make sense of what we saw. Colin kept wanting to open the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of the Aurora Borealis (northern lights) as he had on this trip to Spain, but there were no mystical dancing colors to be seen. However, there was clouds/water/ice below us - what it was I could never quite decide, especially since the texture would change and the flight status map wouldn't show us near Greenland yet. I took some Benadryl and by the time we got to Iceland, I was so out of it that when Colin tried to wake me up, excitedly pointing out Rejkjavik, it was all I could do to say "mmph" and promptly go back to sleep without looking out the window. Sometime while we slept the sun "rose" in the west and we flew straight over Moscow. I woke up a bit before Colin and sometime after Colin woke up, I was able to crack open the window to see desert below. Soon we came to the Himalayas which were, of course, awesome. Just as we were about to hit the tarmac in New Delhi the sun was setting again.
Delhi
The first encounter on Indian soil was a mostly stressful experience but not overly negative. We were made to fill out a form declaring that yes, we were coming from a country where there were cases of the H1N1 flu and no, we hadn't had a fever in the last few days. There was a queue where they checked with an infrared camera for anyone who might be feverish before we went through the normal checkpoint. The bored guy who scanned my passport and visa didn't say a word to me, merely stamping it before shooing me on. Colin had a different story; his passport was a couple years older than mine and showed a picture and signature from high school. His signature on the entrance form was very different from the one on the passport and the guard didn't think the picture resembled Colin enough to be authentic. It took a long time, in which I started to slightly panic and try to figure out what I'd do if he wasn't let through. But thankfully, he was. Otherwise this would be a very different story.
The bus ride took us right on the runways themselves to cross and get to the domestic air terminal. When we stepped out, the heat, humidity, and smells hit us full on. The limited experience I've had with India so far involves very distinct spicy smells. I don't know how else to describe them. To add to the sense of bizarreness, our soap reminds us of green jello in look and smell.
That night, Wednesday night, was spent in the domestic terminal in New Delhi. It was unwise to go out after the sun had set and our flight was really early so trying to find a hotel room didn't make much sense anyway. The security was different; there was no one else there at the time so the guards were all clustered in groups. They ushered me to a screening room for females where I was checked by a female guard who I managed to understand when she asked "5:50 flight??" like "You're seriously staying here until then?" We had 7 and a half hours to go.
The night was spent mostly staring into space or reading. Colin managed an hour of sleep and I laid down for fifteen minutes with no success. There was wireless and it was even free, but we didn't have the right power adaptors and couldn't access the internet anyway; we had to have a code sent as a text message to a cellphone. We did try sending it to my US phone but it never came. The airport filled up with people as the night wore on, but at first it was almost barren except for the employees.
When the time finally dwindled down to less than two hours before boarding time, we walked over to a sort of cafe and got coffees and pastries for about 5 USD total. While it wasn't a full breakfast and my paper cup leaked, it was delicious. I decided ahead of time I wasn't going to even pretend to try to understand what exactly I ate here. We got a fuller breakfast on the two-hour flight and one of the ladies sitting near us was from Michigan and was visiting extended family near Hyderabad with her husband who was also Indian and their two young sons. The flight was largely uneventful which tends to be a good thing for flights. We were served breakfast and I picked the omelet again.
Hyderabad
The first thing I noticed was that Hyderabad seemed significantly cooler than Delhi at 6 in the morning had been. This is only relative though; the humidity is quite high and it's usually in the 80s during the day.
After disembarking, we really didn't have a clue how we were going to get to the hotel. Magically, there was a sign saying “Mr. Colin Alworth” and the guy led us to a car from the hotel. The ride into the city was overwhelming (I can't think of any other word to describe these first Indian encounters). Honking seems to be the way to alert other drivers. I don't think they even have turn signals – they certainly never use them. Some of the buses have “Please honk” written on the back of them. When Colin asked a coworker what this really meant (was it to be funny or was it serious?), the coworker didn't know. I don't remember much of the rest of Thursday; jet lag had taken over by then. I know there was some napping, Colin went to the office for a couple of hours, and then it was bedtime.
7 August 2009 Friday
Today was Colin's first full day at work. Both of us were dealing with stomach issues, mostly gas, all day. The power adaptor I had at the hotel for my computer failed to work. The older, British version of “Death at a Funeral” was on TV after dinner so we watched it. We weren't very tired so we fell asleep around 2 am.
8 August 2009 Saturday
We slept in and missed the breakfast hours. I was feeling “cabin fever” and finally got Colin to go with me outside. It was just a walk around the block but for a first taste of being within the city it was overwhelming. We didn't stop anywhere and no one grabbed at us. Later, I didn't feel good so we stayed in the rest of the day. We also asked for a new adaptor but didn't get it probably because they forgot about it.
9 August 2009 Sunday
We went out to lunch across the street (the first time I'd eaten outside of the hotel since we'd arrived) at a place that was called a coffee shop. The two dishes were really spicy, but one more so than the other. They were both different types of flat breads with different sauces to dip into. Our mouths were on fire, our eyes were red, and I was constantly blowing my nose. The price was roughly a third of what lunch at the hotel would have been. There was some drizzle while we were out and quite a bit of lightning at one point, but it never really rained. When we came back in, it was Colin's turn to feel bad and we ended up not going back out that day. I finally got a plug adaptor that works!
10 August 2009 Today
Colin's boss had flown in during the night from visiting his family elsewhere in India and he joined us for breakfast. I had my first excursion out of the hotel without Colin. It was only two hours, at a bookstore, but when the driver asked if I wanted to go back to the hotel I said “yes” with relief. It's not that I don't like being out there (haven't made up my mind yet), but it's just so overwhelming. Everything here is overwhelming. I thought I'd have lots to write about while being here but it turns out the problem is I simply can't seem to make much sense of it myself, let alone come up with conclusions and witty insights.
I spent more at the bookstore than I had intended to; I had told myself to get only two or three books and then other things I liked. No one thing was overly expensive to me and the books had prices that were really attractive for an American bookworm. For 1822 rupees, or 38 dollars, I got six books, two notebooks, four pens, and nailclippers. The most expensive book was 295 rupees, or just over 6 dollars and it's the Hyderabad history book (“Hyderabad: A Biography” by Narendra Luther). There's also an English-Hindi phrase book and a small travel book on Hyderabad. I made sure not to get just non-fiction books related to India; I got “Eat, Pray, Love” (Elizabeth Gilbert), “Setting Free the Bears” (John Irving), and “Freakonomics” (Levitt and Dubner).
While normally I would have probably put back at least half the books, the prices weren't the only reason I got so many; Colin insisted that this is my vacation and I don't have to go and have a hair-raising adventure every day. After all, I am traveling for four weeks and I intend to do lots of reading during the much-needed downtime. I brought very little but I did bring, along with the thick India travel guide, three reading books and I'm almost done with the second one.
When I was back at the hotel room, someone dropped off an elaborate flower basket that contains 13 roses and a cluster of white flowers. They still had droplets clinging to their petals and there was no indication of where they came from so I assumed it was normal hotel business.
For lunch, I went back to the coffee shop and ordered one of the same things we'd had yesterday – but asked for “not too spicy.” I was surprised to find how quickly I've adapted to spice because I dipped almost every piece in the sauces. It was very good. Along with a liter of mineral water and a cup of coffee, the lunch was about 125 rupees – a grand total of $2.50. When I walked back to the hotel, I realized I had metal coins in the money belt. I had to pull it out of my pants and fish them out, putting them in the basket before walking through the metal detector. I smiled, showing that I realized the comic scene I just gave them and they certainly acknowledged that yes, that was rather silly. From now on, I'm putting the coins in my pocket. Coins are worth no more than ten cents a piece, after all.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Ohmygosh I'm going to India
For those who don't already know, Colin and I are going to India. Tomorrow night. There's general excitement, stress, and "what the heck are we doing??" which Colin can easily answer "Work, work, work." Me? I'm mostly just tagging along, having no real commitments until school starts Wednesday, September 2nd. So yes, nearly a solid month of India is quickly approaching.
It wasn't until less than a week ago we knew for certain we were going. I'm already a bit hazy on exactly when the suggestion was made, but it was roughly a week before that that Colin's bosses asked "Is your passport up to date?" This resulted in a scramble to find it. That weekend we made a trip south to Bloomington (I really needed more clothes anyway) where we hung out with Susan, did tons of laundry, and I grabbed whatever I thought might be needed.
We'd spent the following Tuesday getting the visas. Colin and I drove downtown to drop off the forms and passports and had to scramble when we found we went to the wrong address listed on the application ten minutes before our appointment. Since he was the one who had to go, I drove around in circles - downtown Chicago (first time actually) - while he went in. Later that day I took the train and picked them up. Apparently, a generic name like "Karen Larsen" takes longer to check than a unique one like "Colin Alworth" because my email notifying the visa was ready to be picked up came quite a bit later than Colin, much to his nervousness. I hadn't taken my cellphone since you can't take electronic devices and only a small lady's handbag is permitted. I scribbled down some sudoku puzzles for the rides and only carried a bright yellow folder in my hands. On the way back, I was hot and thirsty so I grabbed a strange but tasty drink called Strawberry Pom Smootea at an Argo Tea.
Wednesday night we went to the airport to get the tickets; the website wouldn't deal with the travel vouchers Colin had gotten last December from agreeing to wait for later flights from San Mateo. They needed to be used soon before they expired. Thursday I got a camera at a local store called Wolf Camera. I'd done some research and decided a Canon point-and-shoot (SD1200 IS) would fit the bill. Initially, I was quite happy with just ordering another Minolta Dimage X (or any of the newer versions in that series) but Colin pointed out that there's been a lot of development in digital cameras since I got my first one in 2003. I could have ordered it online and fretted about when it'd get here, but I wanted to test and play with it, especially since we were spending the weekend in Duluth. I'm quite happy with it, don't have any complaints so far and I've taken about 200 pictures.
Duluth was a whirlwind but, as always, it was great to see Colin's family. Sure, there's the drama of the extended family but I knew the "battlefield" and wasn't too affected. Finally got to meet Nina! She's quite the energetic tomboy and I got lots of shots of her goofing around with Colin. We had a boat tour along the shore Saturday. The weekend was cool and cloudy, with some short thunderstorms and rainshowers. Since India is going to be really hot and humid, Duluth wasn't helping us prepare for it. But then again, what the heck would? I spent a lot of time wrapped up in blankets and never took my sweatshirt off except when we were at Nana's in the tropical heat. I even slept with the bed electrically heated.
Most of my spare time has been spent reading, either online or print books, about India. We will be mostly in Hyderabad, which is not touted as a tourist city. It is also known as Cyberabad (cyber city); Colin will be working in an area where there are 80,000 other programmers. However, there are things to see and places to go in the area, it is known for its fabulous food, and we know we are going to spend time in at least Delhi and at the Taj Mahal on the weekends. I've skimmed a few guidebooks (Lonely Planet's is by far the best) and other non-fiction. I really enjoy reading "A Traveler's History of India" by Sinharaja Tammita-Delgoda but it's a library book and I'm planning on taking very little and mostly stuff I can leave behind. After all, stuff is cheap there and I have only clothes appropriate for northern US colder climate and society (shorts aren't worn in India). So my backpack is all I'm carrying. To India. For a month.
I'm constantly wondering, "What the heck am I doing?" The answer: Going off on an adventure (with the love of my life during monsoon season to the most foreign land I've been to yet that had never really been on my list of places to visit).
It wasn't until less than a week ago we knew for certain we were going. I'm already a bit hazy on exactly when the suggestion was made, but it was roughly a week before that that Colin's bosses asked "Is your passport up to date?" This resulted in a scramble to find it. That weekend we made a trip south to Bloomington (I really needed more clothes anyway) where we hung out with Susan, did tons of laundry, and I grabbed whatever I thought might be needed.
We'd spent the following Tuesday getting the visas. Colin and I drove downtown to drop off the forms and passports and had to scramble when we found we went to the wrong address listed on the application ten minutes before our appointment. Since he was the one who had to go, I drove around in circles - downtown Chicago (first time actually) - while he went in. Later that day I took the train and picked them up. Apparently, a generic name like "Karen Larsen" takes longer to check than a unique one like "Colin Alworth" because my email notifying the visa was ready to be picked up came quite a bit later than Colin, much to his nervousness. I hadn't taken my cellphone since you can't take electronic devices and only a small lady's handbag is permitted. I scribbled down some sudoku puzzles for the rides and only carried a bright yellow folder in my hands. On the way back, I was hot and thirsty so I grabbed a strange but tasty drink called Strawberry Pom Smootea at an Argo Tea.
Wednesday night we went to the airport to get the tickets; the website wouldn't deal with the travel vouchers Colin had gotten last December from agreeing to wait for later flights from San Mateo. They needed to be used soon before they expired. Thursday I got a camera at a local store called Wolf Camera. I'd done some research and decided a Canon point-and-shoot (SD1200 IS) would fit the bill. Initially, I was quite happy with just ordering another Minolta Dimage X (or any of the newer versions in that series) but Colin pointed out that there's been a lot of development in digital cameras since I got my first one in 2003. I could have ordered it online and fretted about when it'd get here, but I wanted to test and play with it, especially since we were spending the weekend in Duluth. I'm quite happy with it, don't have any complaints so far and I've taken about 200 pictures.
Duluth was a whirlwind but, as always, it was great to see Colin's family. Sure, there's the drama of the extended family but I knew the "battlefield" and wasn't too affected. Finally got to meet Nina! She's quite the energetic tomboy and I got lots of shots of her goofing around with Colin. We had a boat tour along the shore Saturday. The weekend was cool and cloudy, with some short thunderstorms and rainshowers. Since India is going to be really hot and humid, Duluth wasn't helping us prepare for it. But then again, what the heck would? I spent a lot of time wrapped up in blankets and never took my sweatshirt off except when we were at Nana's in the tropical heat. I even slept with the bed electrically heated.
Most of my spare time has been spent reading, either online or print books, about India. We will be mostly in Hyderabad, which is not touted as a tourist city. It is also known as Cyberabad (cyber city); Colin will be working in an area where there are 80,000 other programmers. However, there are things to see and places to go in the area, it is known for its fabulous food, and we know we are going to spend time in at least Delhi and at the Taj Mahal on the weekends. I've skimmed a few guidebooks (Lonely Planet's is by far the best) and other non-fiction. I really enjoy reading "A Traveler's History of India" by Sinharaja Tammita-Delgoda but it's a library book and I'm planning on taking very little and mostly stuff I can leave behind. After all, stuff is cheap there and I have only clothes appropriate for northern US colder climate and society (shorts aren't worn in India). So my backpack is all I'm carrying. To India. For a month.
I'm constantly wondering, "What the heck am I doing?" The answer: Going off on an adventure (with the love of my life during monsoon season to the most foreign land I've been to yet that had never really been on my list of places to visit).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)