And of course on the last day, I get sick

It stopped snowing last night long enough for us all to go out for dinner. We went to a Greek place down by the beach; it was pretty quiet, no doubt because there were six inches of snow on the ground and apparently that's more than this area usually gets in a couple of years.

Dinner conversation was fun: apparently there are parts of Canada that are so desperate for workers that even the local McDonaldses will pay $25/hr just to get people in, sometimes also offering signing bonuses. Now, I have no desire whatsoever to step foot anywhere near those golden arches for any reason, even if they're paying me, but it got me thinking. Maybe I can get a job up here somewhere after all. I had an interview with a school in Japan last week that I think went pretty well, but it sounded like I won't hear back for a little while longer. I've wanted to see Canada for a long time. I've said for years that it seems like the kind of place I could enjoy living. After visiting for the last couple of weeks, I think I might be on to something. I think I'll have to look at what's available and what's involved in getting a work visa....

After dinner we came back and lounged around for a while before bed. Brij and I watched some Seinfeld; I can't remember when the last time I actually sat down and did that was, but it has to have been at least a good 5 or 6 years ago. I developed a tummy ache and drank some tea so hopefully I'd be comfortable enough to sleep.

Everything was fine until about 5am, at which point I woke up suddenly and decided I'd better head for the bathroom. My belly was all gurgly and weird-feeling, and I remembered feeling like that sometime in the not-too-distant past, but I couldn't think of when it would have been.

After making it to the bathroom and relaxing  and doing my thing, it suddenly hit me... India. India's where I'd felt all that tummy rumbling. Ugh. That's one thing I don't miss.

I decided to lie down on the couch in the living room so I'd be close to the toilet should I need it again and looked outside. The snow was piled up on the patio, on the tree branches, but none was falling from the sky. In fact, the clouds and fog had cleared up so much that I could clearly see not just the ocean but the lights across the bay. It was beautiful. I sat myself down on the couch with a glass of hot water and admired the view until I felt like I could fall asleep again.

That's where we are now... I'm still on the couch; the stomach pains come and go. What a way to spend my last day in Canada, eh? We were hoping to take a trip up to Whistler because apparently the view is incredible, but with big fat snowflakes falling out of the sky once more and everything blanketed in fog -- not to mention the roads being covered in snow -- it doesn't seem worth the trip. Maybe next time.

Forty-Six and Sunny

My first few days in Canada were warm compared to the winter back in Illinois, but they were still windy enough that it was too chilly to really hang out outside. Wednesday the wind had died down, so Brij wanted to make the most of it by showing me around Vancouver.

Our first stop was Stanley Park.

We saw some baby geese.

And whatever this cool-looking bird is.

The city of Vancouver as seen from Stanley Park.

I got a coffee from this place. We also picked up some touristy maps.

We checked out the totem poles.

So.. cyclists can weigh as much as they want?

Brij holding the Lions Gate Bridge.

Another angle of the aforementioned bridge.

We wandered around and scoped out the scenery for a while. We were both hurting from snowboarding, though, so we drove more than we walked. Oh well, at least we were in the sun and fresh air.

After the park we headed out to see Granville Island, a touristy area full of artisan shops. Now, normally I'm not all that interested in this sort of thing (the quaint small-town Main Street vibe doesn't tend to do it for me), but there was something about this place that I really enjoyed. I've found that the general demeanor of the west coast is totally different from other places I've been. Seattle seemed more chill than home, and Canada is even more so. All the people are nice, everyone seems relatively happy. To my delight, I've heard a fair amount of "eh"s and "aboats" and such.

Anyway, back to Granville Island.

Not long after leaving Stanley Park, we found that both of our phones were dead (and our GPS along with them). Being resourceful, we grabbed the coffee shop maps from the back seat and managed to navigate most of the way to Granville Island before deciding we needed to find food and a place recharge our phones. We wound up stopping at a pizza place where the guy behind the counter told us he'd toss our pizza back into the oven for $3; maybe we were hungry or maybe he really did just have a damned good poker face, but either way he got us good.

The pizza was so-so, but the staff was good company.

We spent the rest of the afternoon on Granville Island before meeting one of Brij's buddies for "a real lunch."

It appears the slide is closed for the season. Bummer. :(

I got endless amusement out of the fact that there's a place called False Creek. So what is it, really?

Compost bins abound in Vancouver.

Seagulls do whatever they damn well please, thankyouverymuch.

Sign up sheet for live performers in the Granville Market. I'm not sure why I can't get it to rotate... sorry. :/

This dude must be a regular here. He was covered in pigeons. I mean COVERED.

I figured why not? Plus, look at the cute kiddo!

Those vicious beasts...

Go with what you know

Well, friends, this is it. Yesterday I spent the entire day running around McLeod Ganj spending time with my remaining friends; all the other foreign teachers at Tibet Charity have taken off already. It was a busy day, but a fun one.

I went for lunch with Kalden and Mike at Tibet Kitchen. I figured I should have Tibetan food for my last meal in the home of HH.

Mmm, thenthuk.

Then we went down to Nick's for dessert. Nick's has the best dessert in town.

And apparently their cappuccinos are good, too!

Me in my cool new hat Kalden gave me (it really goes with the chupa, doesn't it?), with Mike on Temple Road. XD

I had tea with the managers at Villa Paradiso and visited a few other friends before packing the last of my things and heading downstairs. Anil made me some gobi parantha for the road. While I waited on that, I looked out over Dharamsala one last time from the balcony. It's a view I'm going to miss.

The taxi that the guys at New Varuni called for me took me up to the bus station where I was met by a bunch of my students, Kalden, and Mike.

Yup... more katas!!

After half an hour of teary goodbyes and lots of hugs -- how can you not get a little misty-eyed when your students tell you things like "I will never forget your kindness"?? -- I got situated on the bus ("a very nice Volvo," just like when I first came here) and away we went.

If you look reeeeeeeeeeal close you can see me in my turquoise blouse in the middle of the bus.

And so the 12ish-hour bus ride to Delhi was underway. This time I was seated next to a youngish jewelry salesman named Dhaval who was quite friendly. I popped a couple motion sickness pills but still had to lay back, close my eyes, and concentrate on not vomiting for the first 4 hours or so. They even handed out little plastic bags, I assume for this purpose. I love the mountains, but I do not love driving in the mountains.

We stopped for dinner at a nice haveli; I didn't eat because it didn't seem worth it. I was sure I wouldn't have been able to keep it down.

When we reached Delhi, the bus drivers wanted to drop everyone off at the Kashmere Gate. Apparently it's where most tourists go, and as far as I can tell it's more or less a hub for travel. Luckily, there was one Tibetan guy on board who also wanted to go to Majnu Ka Tila, the Tibetan colony, so we stuck together and they took us there. He helped me off the bus with my things and down to AMA Hotel, where I stayed way back in July when I first arrived in India.

My plan was to stay in a neighborhood called Paharganj, per Brij's recommendation, but I was unfamiliar with the area, the hotel guy there wasn't the best about giving me information over the phone, and I had gotten dropped off IN DELHI at 4:30am. I was by myself at this point and not comfortable with hopping into any random taxi. So I went to AMA and the hotelier there was very friendly even though I'd woken him up at a ridiculous hour. It took us a little while because of the language barrier -- his English was fairly decent, but my Hindi is limited and my Tibetan is practically nonexistent -- but eventually I decided I'd just take the one room they had left and they'd book a taxi to the airport for this evening for me.

It was such a relief to get to a familiar place. If you're ever in Delhi, this is a nice place to stay. They have a really excellent restaurant downstairs, too!

I went out into Delhi via rickshaw to grab the last couple of Indian things (as opposed to Tibetan ones) I needed before coming home. I didn't even freak out! It was surprisingly unstressful during daylight hours. There are about a zillion people, sure, but I guess I'm more or less used to it now. It's not so bad.

One thing I've found that has made traveling solo much more bearable is that most people are helpful if you just ask. It's also been a tremendous help going places with people who know them the first time, and then returning later on my own. In this case, I was in Majnu ka Tila with Kalden and Palsang a few months ago, so now I don't feel so anxious about being back here. I don't particularly want to run around Delhi on my own for an extended period of time, but in this particular area I feel fine. The same thing with the Rajasthan trip: I passed through Pathankot on the train with Brij on the way down, and so when I went back on my own, I kind of knew what to expect. If I hadn't, then the whole train-breaking-down-in-the-middle-of-the-night thing would have really done a number on me.

I explained to the proprietors at AMA that I'd been here and I trusted them to take care of me, and they have been more than helpful. (I gotta write a bunch of TripAdvisor reviews.... maybe I'll do that at the airport!)

So now I'm hanging out in my hotel room, responding to "hey, just want to know how the trip is going" messages. Once I hit "publish" on this thing I'm going to take a shower, get dressed, grab a bite to eat at the restaurant downstairs, and make sure my luggage is arranged the way I want it. The taxi picks me up to take me to the airport in just over 2 hours... It should take about an hour to get there, and my itinerary requests that I report at least 3 hours prior to my flight time, so I should be fine. I'd rather be safe than sorry! Then I guess I'll see if I can find some airport wi-fi or sit down with a book and wait to board the long, long flight home. Altogether it's a little over 19 hours travel time, including the brief layover in Newark (only 1.5 hours this time). And with that... I'll be on my way back to American soil!

For all its shortcomings, India has endeared itself to me. I think I'll come back sometime. Who wants to join me?

A Motorbike Adventure, and Kashmiri Hospitality

The countdown is moving faster all the time! I'm now in my last 48 hours in McLeod Ganj. It's amazing how you can feel like you're getting things done but once the deadline gets close enough, it seems like there's no way you'll accomplish everything you want to before you go.

Yesterday I went on an adventure with Neil. I know early on I swore I'd never get on a motorbike here in India, but the circumstances were such that I decided I'd take my chances in this particular instance. We rode the back way out of Lower Dharamsala, where I'd never been before, through a little village called Khanyara, and into the mountains. When the road got bad enough we were worried about the bike surviving the trip, we parked it and walked the rest of the way.

We found a valley full of slate (I think?) with a river at the bottom. We made our way down to the river where we took photos and video of the rushing water before finding a big, flat rock to use as a picnic area and eat our lunch. It's pretty amazing... looking at the way the rocks in the sides of the valley had clearly moved due to some kind of tectonic activity at one point or another was stunning. Millions -- billions -- of shards of rock littered the ground; it was like a geological boneyard. Standing there pondering this, I couldn't help but think that nature is so huge and so incredible, the sheer randomness of everything that happens in the world is poetry on a huge scale. In the grand scheme of things, none of it means anything... and yet there is such detail and such beauty and such intricacy that it feels like there's no way we could possibly ever discover everything there is to see.

The world felt enormous beyond comprehension.

A gigantic boulder "menacing the path," as Neil said.

Can you see the caves?

As it has since I returned from Rajasthan, once the sun goes down the temperature drops ten degrees within a matter of minutes, and then keeps on going. We rolled back into McLeod Ganj bundled up in multiple layers. The guys at New Varuni House, where I'm staying, had invited me for dinner around 8/8:30. At about ten after I got a call on my room phone informing me that food was ready and I should come downstairs.

I should know by now that the Indian definition of "come for dinner" is a bit different from the American one. What they meant was "Come down for snacks, drinks, and conversation, and we'll have dinner in a couple of hours." Regardless, I had a good time hanging out with Sanjay and Anil as we talked about all kinds of things. Apparently the Kashmiris are known for their hospitality, and these guys definitely lived up to the standard. We had aloo gobi (that's potatoes & cauliflower for those of you less familiar with Indian food), a chicken dish that isn't on the menu, and chapatti (roti/bread). I mentioned that they didn't offer channa masala on the menu (chickpeas) and that it's my favorite -- Sanjay told me that as a matter of fact, they bought some channa earlier and they'd be happy to make it up for me before I left.

So that's what I'm getting ready to do right now: go down and have some channa masala made just for me. :3 If last night is any indication, I won't be making it back to my room until midnight or so, so I'd be wise to tidy up a bit before I go. My bus ticket is booked for Wednesday evening, I finished all but the last few tiny bits of shopping today (Sanjay even offered to drive me out to Bhagsu to look for one piece in particular), and so I figured I'd start packing. I'm pretty sure by the time I give most of my old clothing to some of the locals and toss things I neither want nor need, I should be able to fit everything else into one checked bag, a carry-on, and a personal item (admittedly one that just barely falls within the measurement restrictions).

Earlier today I met Kalden and Van for lunch since Van was all set to leave for Delhi this evening. One by one, the volunteers are leaving. I was one of the first to get here and it seems I'm the last to leave. I've been saying goodbye to all the friends and acquaintances I've made here; there are a handful of people I wish I'd gotten to know better, earlier. So it goes. I guess it gives me extra incentive to come back.

Supporting the local economy

मेरे दोस्तों नमस्ते !
I'm the kind of person who likes to sleep in. Mornings like today are somewhat uncommon: I woke up an hour before my alarm went off (even though I didn't go to bed until 2am), energized and ready to Get Shit Done. I even surprised myself.

I'm now well within my last two weeks here in India, which means it's finally time to buy all the souvenirs and things I want to take home. I had been putting it off because buying more stuff would mean I'd have more stuff to store, and with a trip to Rajasthan in the mix, during which I left the rest of my possessions with a friend, it didn't make sense to add to the amount of things I'd have to cart back and forth. I don't imagine I'll be moving again before my final trip to Delhi, so now the shopping can commence.

If any of you want something specific, tell me now. If you want something specific and expensive, I'll send you my Paypal address so you can get those dollas to me.

I went into McLeod Ganj for breakfast, enjoying a satisfying chicken sandwich with mango & coriander chutney on the patio, in the sun, at Moonpeak Espresso. I haven't been there in a while. On my way, I stopped in to a shop to take a look at something specific on my list for a gift. The middle-aged Indian proprietor smiled a lot and wasn't pushy at all; when I asked in Hindi if he had what I was looking for, he became excited as well. We talked for a few minutes, him showing me various items on the shelves in his tiny store, and even though I felt like it must have been painful for him to endure my butchery of his native language when he clearly could speak mine, he complimented me, saying that my Hindi was "bohut sunder" -- very beautiful -- and that I sound like I've been speaking it for a long time. 

All I have to say is LOL. Thanks, sir, but I don't entirely believe you. It's sweet of you to say, though.

After breakfast I headed up to the ATM because, well, the whole point of going in to town today was to shop and I needed funds. Over the last 4 months I have made friends with one of the shopkeepers near said ATM. The guys over there tend to hang out outside because their shops are tucked back from the street; it's easier to grab customers if they're more visible.

Taj showed me all kinds of pretty things, of which I purchased a few unique pieces for gifts this upcoming Xmas (lucky you if you get one of them!). He made a comment that he'd give me the "local price" because I'd been here long enough that "now you are a local." I told him "Baria!" to which he responded with a surprised "and now you also speak Hindi!" He was kind enough to let me practice a bit, only reverting back to English when I really had no idea how to get my point across otherwise. It's so much fun. It's like decoding a puzzle.

I try to speak in Hindi as much as I can, because that's the only way to get better at it, not to mention more comfortable with it. Most of the people I do this with seem initially surprised but then appreciative; I have had a couple of Indians tell me that many foreigners come to Dharamsala because it's a Tibetan area, and the Indian locals get looked over or even looked down on. This is unfortunate, of course, but it works in my favor in a way because I stand out as "that foreigner who has actually bothered to learn our language." Obviously I support the Tibetan community as well -- it's the reason I came here, after all; I do volunteer at a place called Tibet Charity -- but there's a different sort of inclusion I feel when I bust out what little Hindi I have with the Indians. It's like I immediately gain a bit of status in their eyes, like I really am more "local." Sometimes, in my desire to use it as much as I can, I catch myself nearly speaking Hindi with my students or other expats who only understand English... it's pretty funny.

One thing I enjoy about McLeod Ganj and Dharamsala is being able to say at least "hello" in a few different languages. I know how to say this and "thank you" in Tibetan, and that's pretty much it -- but there's something exciting about walking down the street and greeting Tibetans with tashi delek, then passing a westerner or two and telling them hi, and responding to the Indian shopkeepers' "Hello, Madam" or "How are you?"  or "Yes, taxi?" -- it's like navigating a town full of NPCs, I swear -- with a namaste or thik, aap kaise hai? or nahin, thank you bhaiya. I feel so multicultural.

Rajasthani Thali

Buses leave Jaisalmer for Jodhpur every hour, so it isn't too hard to get tickets. We decided that 3:30 sounded like a good time to go, since that would give us time to clean up but still reach our destination before it got too late.

It's getting to the point where five-hour bus rides seem like pieces of cake, hardly worth worrying about at all. We decided we'd be fine with regular seats as opposed to a bunk, especially since we'd be traveling during the day. The bus was more or less what you might expect from a local Indian bus: old and rickety, only moderately clean, and full of people.

Somewhere around halfway through the trip we were startled by a sudden CRASH of glass that seemed to keep going -- it was inside the bus and somewhere ahead of us. It sounded like someone had dropped a case of flower vases off the roof or something. When the last tink-tinks had faded, I peeked out into the aisle and realized that one of the windows on a bunk ahead of us had, somehow, fallen into the aisle. Luckily, no one seemed to be injured. The bus guys managed to get it (more or less) cleaned up before we had to walk that way, although I'm pretty sure I saw a couple of shards still scattered along the floor.

Jodhpur is a city. A big city. Maybe it's the fact that I was sleeping and had to be woken up when we rolled into town around 9pm, maybe it's the fact that we had just left the smallish town of Jaisalmer and come into someplace that reminded me distinctly of the bustling metropolis of Delhi, but I wasn't really feeling it. We got swarmed by tuk-tuk drivers as we stepped off the bus; if I were new to India and unfamiliar with the smallness of the Personal Bubble here I'd have gotten a little worried about just how tightly they closed in.

After some discussion we (read: Brij) struck a deal with the one guy and we were on our way to the hotel that the guys in Jaisalmer had recommended. The main roads in Jodhpur were noisy, dirty, and teeming with people and animals. Just as they always do, people stared at us as we drove past; apparently white girls are still uncommon enough that we're worth special attention. Normally I don't care, but I was tired and a little fussy and growing more anxious by the minute. In times like that it's really beneficial to have someone you can lean on and trust to just get you where you need to go. 

A few kilometers later we arrived at Baba Haveli, where Imran Bhai got us all set up in a room just outside the terrace and some dinner on the rooftop (they make a pretty kickass chicken biryani, FYI). He pointed out the local palaces, the fort, and the clock tower: the main points of interest in the area. 

Le Fort.

We were glad to know if we needed to go back to the future we had at least one of the necessary components close by.

We were pretty wrecked from the camel riding, so Jodhpur more or less functioned as a place to rest on the way to our next adventure. We did a lot of chilling and just exploring the town near the haveli.

We sampled some Rajasthani thali at a couple of different restaurants. Yum!

Friday we decided to check out the fort because after the clock tower (which we basically passed every time we went into town from our guest house) it was the closest of all the other attractions.

Boni, the Spanish guy we met over breakfast at the haveli, was on his way back from the fort as we were trying to figure out how to get to it, so he escorted us. He's a cool dude (and also a very tall one).

This old guy saw us taking photos with Boni and he wanted one, too. See? White girl is a spectacle.

Not sure why so much of the city below is painted blue, but it looks cool.

Sunset over Jodhpur, as seen from Mehrengarh Fort.

We did a little shopping in town and, just as I'd suspected, once I spent a little time there I got my bearings and didn't mind the atmosphere so much. Regardless, we decided to move on to the next city on the itinerary, Udaipur.

Waking up at 5am to pack, eat a quick breakfast ("You want cold milk with your corn flakes? How can anybody eat that?") and make a 7am bus across town takes it out of you. 

The bus stopped for a snack & bathroom break. See what's up in the corner behind the guy at the counter? Hint: if you're from Chicago you should be used to seeing a lot of them.

Something I've noticed about the bathroom culture in India: "ladies only" toilets are not uncommon, even if they just consist of an area hidden by a wall from the outside world, with a series of holes in the ground. Guys are expected to just pee in the open, whether it be in the bushes or, as we saw numerous times in Jodhpur, off to the side between some cars or against a wall, wherever you can find, basically. For all the gender inequality here, India does make some effort to make things a bit more comfortable for its women even if it is just through women's only toilets, seats on buses, cars on trains, salons, and the like.

The rest of the bus ride was without incident, except for at the very end when I woke up from my nap, pulled back the curtain over the window, and found that whoever was in the bunk above us had vomited all down the side of the bus. I was REALLY glad I'd kept the window closed.

We arrived in Udaipur yesterday afternoon and basically took the first hotel room we could find, at a place right on the lake called Hanuman Ghat Hotel. I think we're on the fifth floor, and just like everywhere except the fanciest of hotels, there is no elevator. I felt like I was climbing the Shinra Tower. Our door literally opens into the rooftop restaurant, though, so at least food is close by.

The view ain't half bad from up here.