Home at Last

Well, I'm home.

Delhi wasn't so bad after all, and thanks to the very kind, very helpful people running AMA Guest House in Majnu ka Tilla, I got to the airport with time to spare. Indian airport security is, in my opinion, quite a bit more lax than American. I'm not complaining; let's just say I'm not a fan of the TSA. Maybe it's statements like this that get me singled out all the time at the airport? Regardless, Indian security is, in my opinion, sufficient without being invasive.

I got to my gate early and decided to take a walk to the end of the terminal since I'd be sitting for quite a while in the near future. When I came back, there were a couple members of airport personnel setting up a queue in front of the gate for additional security screening, and a western woman who had just finished speaking with them was making her way toward seats out in the terminal. I followed her and sat down in the same area; she complimented the chupa I was wearing and we got to talking. As it turns out, she's a fiber artist! She lives in Texas and, over the course of the next hour and a half or so, we had a nice little talk about our adventures in India and in fabric artistry back home. She even has a friend named Magda, so she had no trouble pronouncing (or remembering) my name.

It got closer to boarding time and we made our way through the second security screen of the evening. I guess it was supposed to be stricter because we were headed into the US, but they didn't give either of us any trouble.

Long story short, I had a 15-hour flight from Delhi to Newark. On it I sat by the window; seated next to me was a very friendly Canadian couple who were impressed at my choice of first destination outside the States.

I slept for much of it, just as I'd done the last time I traveled between countries. Just as I'd done before, I woke up as we were flying over Greenland. Since the plane left around midnight and we were flying west, the entire trip was made in darkness. I lifted the shade on the window hoping there might be some moonlight on the ice or something, because the sight of Greenland had been so striking the first time I saw it. Instead I was greeted by a cloudless sky and, incredibly, by stars. Orion floated just outside my window, crisp and clear. It was as though I could reach out and touch him. I've flown more than a few times in my life, but never before have I seen anything like I saw the other night up there. I sat and stared at my celestial companion and let myself get lost in the feeling of oneness with the sky.

I alternated between napping, chatting with the Canadians, and watching a few episodes of Twin Peaks on my laptop (I haven't finished it yet! Don't tell me what happens!!). Eventually we touched down in Newark.

Now, I was not aware that I was going to have to go through customs between my connecting flights. I thought I'd have to do that at O'Hare, when my trip ended. Nope. I had to sit and wait at baggage for my suitcase, recheck it so it would follow me to Chicago, make my way through customs, go through security again, figure out which gate my plane was at, and then race there (it's kind of a big airport) all in an hour.

I just missed it; they had just closed the door. The lady told me "the flight is closed" or some such nonsense and even though I pleaded with her, saying that I'd just gotten off my other flight and got there as fast as I possibly could, she was unsympathetic and directed me toward the customer service desk 3 gates down.

At this point I'd been basically traveling for two days straight. I was sweaty from rushing around and I was so close to being able to just chill at home, and now I was stuck.

I was also, however, in the US and so I could text message from my phone again. I got in touch with my parents and also started mentally making a contingency plan if I had to stay in the general area for more than a couple of hours.

The line was long and so tortuously slow it was like I was being made to watch a Will Ferrell movie or something -- I thought it would never end. Eventually I did get to the front and I did my best to be polite even though I just wanted to kick and whine and slap somebody. I was sure my bag was on its way to Chicago and, with my luck, it'd be lost or buried in a closet or something by the time I got there.

To my surprise, the lady handed me a boarding pass and told me I'd better hurry, because my new flight was leaving in fifteen minutes and it was a few gates down. Stunned, I stared at it a moment before uttering a thank you and racing off back down the hall.

So basically, everything turned out alright. My dad even told me later that his alarm hadn't woken him up on time so it was really no problem at all that I arrived an hour later than I originally should have. I thought for sure for a while there that I was going to be stranded "so close and yet so far" for at least a day.

I got home, though, and spent the day with family. Today some friends who may as well be family came to visit, I hung out with my dad, and I plotted and planned all the things I'm going to do now that I'm back here. I should be getting my sewing machine back from being tuned up (thanks, Mom!) any day now, so I can start sewing again. My Etsy store is open again, and I plan on adding quite a bit to it in the coming weeks. If you are in need of any kind of vinyl decals or wall art, let me know! I did go to art school, you know, and custom orders are always fun. Plus, as I was reminded as soon as I stepped off the plane in the States... Xmas is on its way. Support your local independent artists!

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?

Feel the Love

As luck would have it, now that I'm within my last couple of weeks here, I seem to be making all kinds of friends. The managers at two of the local hotels -- New Varuni House and Villa Paradiso, stay at one of these if you are ever in town -- have been incredibly kind and hospitable, especially since I arrived back in town this weekend. The girls at the cafe down the street are absolute sweethearts, and of course I made some friends in the soldiers from the train the other night. A couple of the students from the Pre-Intermediate class that I taught at the beginning of the semester, that I had since handed off to Brij and he to Jill, found me in Tibet Charity and specifically asked if I would help them study for an upcoming test because they preferred my teaching methodology. The guys here at Varuni seem to enjoy my efforts to speak the local language; they ask me "Aap kaisi hai?" when I come downstairs and smile broadly when I respond in Hindi. Being able to talk to the locals really does open up an entirely new world. I wish I'd started sooner.

Oh well. Better late than never, right? I keep watching Benny Lewis's videos for inspiration -- if he can learn enough Polish in an hour to hold a rudimentary conversation, why can't I learn enough Hindi to do the same in, say, a couple of weeks? The answer is laziness, lol. I think I know more than I realize; my vocabulary is so-so and every day I can pick out more and more words when I listen to other people talk. Indians tend to speak very fast, though, which can get intimdating... fast. Now that I can read the language, it makes things a bit easier. Brij and I made a good travel team: I could read signs, and he could tell me what the words meant. Together we were unstoppable! Well.. we could find our way around, at least.

My plan is to continue studying Hindi even after I get home. Recognizing words in conversation feels like I'm suddenly in on a secret, like I've got the means to decode the, well, code. Just as I do at home when foreigners attempt to speak English, many of the people here seem to appreciate the fact that I'm at least making an effort, even if the end result is less than polished. It's intimidating, especially when most people also speak English. I've found that a lot of them aren't interested in conversing with me in Hindi because I clearly speak English; either it's less hassle for them, or they want to practice their foreign language skills. That's ok. Now that I've gotten over the initial barrier of just getting started, I'm more motivated to learn. It doesn't seem quite so unmanageable. I've developed a familiarity for the sound of the language and I try to work it into conversation as much as I can, even if it's only a few words here and there. I expect when I get home I'll be ordering at restaurants in Hindi out of habit. ;)

I feel like I'm more on a roll with it now. I kind of wish I could stay another couple of months and really work on it........ I guess if nothing else it's a good excuse to schedule another trip to India, eh?

I Heart Army Guys

Friday was our final day in Rajasthan. It had been a very fun three weeks, but all good things must come to an end sooner or later, and I did also want to get back in time for the end of the semester at Tibet Charity. After one last morning of breakfast and chilling at the hotel, we made sure all of our belongings were segregated into the correct bags and headed into Jaipur.

I saw Brij off at the travel agency where his bus was parked, and then I made my way up the main road to the train station. I had made plans to head back to Dharamsala the way we had come, via a place called Pathankot. The train would take me there from Jaipur (over the course of some 13-odd hours), and then I'd catch a bus back to the mountains and my home base here in India. Altogether the trip was scheduled to take around 18 hours.

People treat me differently when I'm by myself. In the case of people who want money from me, i.e. rickshaw drivers and shopkeepers, they usually hike up the prices enormously and expect that I won't know any better. In the case of most other people, they actually tend to be quite nice. As I made my way down the train platform -- with a bit of attitude, because you gotta at least look confident at times like these -- I scanned the area trying to figure out where I needed to be to catch my ride. I stopped to consult my ticket and an Indian man in his fifties approached me and offered to help. Seeing as I didn't have a whole lot of wiggle room on the clock and the last thing I wanted at that point was to miss my train, I let him. As it turns out, he was going to the same train. We walked down, down, down to the signs stating the sleeper cars would stop there. He told me he was going to Alwar (which I had never heard of, but I'd become quite familiar with over the next day) and that I should stop off with him and stay at his place for a while. I'd like to think it's genuine hospitality that motivates people to make these sort of offers, as it's not the first time it's happened, but luckily I was able to politely decline by informing him that I really did need to get back to Dharamsala and just for good measure, I said that my husband was waiting for me so I couldn't afford any delays. That usually works. Regardless, he was very friendly and gave me his business card, saying that if I needed anything I should call him. There's no harm in having contact info, I suppose.

Bye bye, Jaipur! It's been fun!

Train toilet empties directly onto the tracks. There are signs posted asking passengers to "kindly not use the toilet when the train is at a station." Note the handle on the wall so you can keep your balance.

Every time we passed through a town, motorbikes waited in packs at all the railroad crossings. It was still early in the day when I boarded, about 5pm, so it was too early to sleep. I took a seat near the window in my berth and contemplated my surroundings. The car wasn't too full early on and I was by myself, so I was less self conscious about practicing my Hindi. I asked the people around me where they were going and got answers like "Jammu" and "Alwar." They asked if I was going to Agra and I responded "Nahin, mai Pathankot ja rahi hun." They all nodded and smiled politely, but nobody tried to keep a conversation going. I decided to study.

Every so often the guy who said he was going to Jammu would look up from his phone at me; when his dinner came he offered me some, but again I politely declined. Once an old Indian guy boarded and gestured for me to get up so he could set up his bed (the seat I was using) and Jammu guy told him to take it easy, motioning to me to just chill where I was and not worry about it. Time went on and the sunlight faded; we all got into our beds and arranged our belongings as comfortably as possible. I caught a few of the guys in my berth (there were 8 beds in it, mine was on the top on the one side) watching me and held eye contact long enough that they'd know I had noticed. I heard people say "Pathankot" in conversation from time to time and couldn't help but feel like they were discussing me. As a woman traveling alone in India, there's plenty to be cautious of.

I settled in and tried to sleep. My stop was scheduled for 6:05am, so I set my alarm for 5. In India, the cell phone companies send their customers messages whenever state lines are crossed; not long after I got the "Idea [the phone company] welcomes you to Delhi!" message, I noticed the ride got considerably louder and the car began shaking. It passed, though, and I decided to go back to minding my own business.

Some time later I realized that the train had suddenly become much, much louder and was packed with people. The man in the bunk next to mine told me that we had to get off the train; there was something wrong with one of the wheels and we were stopped, waiting for a new one.

What he said seemed consistent with what I'd observed earlier, and everyone seemed to be getting off the train anyway, so I decided to trust him. A young man of maybe 25, sitting on the bunk across the aisle, told me in pretty-good English that he had pulled the emergency brake and we were stopped in Delhi, and that he and his friends in the next berth were soldiers in the Indian army. He patiently explained to me that we had to get off the train while they either fixed it or a replacement was found. He offered for me to stick with them, which I gratefully accepted.

Delhi's chilly in the middle of the night.

We hopped out of the train onto the tracks, them giving me a hand down, and walked down the platform until we were in an area that was better lit. Some time later, an announcement directed us to Platform 5; the army guys helped me carry my bag and made sure I was with them the whole way. They asked where I was from, if it was difficult not speaking much Hindi (toro toro, I told them, which means "a little bit"), and they told me it was their duty to make sure that I was safe. They asked my name; I have taken to telling people my name is Maggie because it's difficult for native Hindi speakers to pronounce Magda and the noodles with the same name are very popular here. It's quite funny.

When the new train finally arrived and the PA system instructed us to board, Sandeep (the young guy with the good English) instructed me to follow -- "chello, ma'am" -- and they got me situated in the new train car and bought me a cup of tea (vendors come through the train every hour or so selling the stuff. It's big in India).

Around 2am, some 4 or 5 hours after we had first stopped in Delhi, we were on our way again. I managed to sleep a tiny bit, but I was anxious about missing my stop even though everyone knew where I was going and I'd like to think someone would have woken me up when we got there. In India, there are no signs or notifications for where the train stops, you are just expected to know when yours comes up. Not being very familiar with the area (<<understatement), I was relying almost entirely on other people to make sure I got where I needed to go, especially now that we were so off schedule.

The sun came up and people folded the beds back into bench seats. Sandeep and the guys invited me to sit with them; when they busted out their breakfast of parantha and subji, they insisted I eat with them. The moment I was finished one of them handed me a bottle of water.

It was such a huge contrast to the way I'd been feeling a few days prior. Brij had given me a pep talk the other night where he told me that even for him, days were sometimes really good and sometimes really crappy. Blending in with the locals wasn't always a good thing; the way people treat you can change 180 degrees from one day to the next, he said, and you just have to try not to let the bad days get to you. I definitely experienced that. Whereas earlier in the week I felt like people were marginalizing me whether because of my race or my gender, on this train ride I felt an immense amount of love and respect from these people I didn't even know, like I had suddenly acquired half a dozen big brothers who were not about to let anything happen to me. As I thought about it, I realized that most if not all of the guys who had been paying extra attention to me earlier were also soldiers; rather than being creeped out by them staring at me I probably should have been grateful that they were staying alert.

My Indian army guardian angels. <3

When Sandeep asked what my opinion was of the Indian army I responded as honestly as I could without admitting too freely to my ignorance on the subject: all the soldiers I'd met had been very kind and helpful. He seemed happy with this answer. He told me that it had been a privilege to get to know me and to help me, and to speak English with me, and that he hoped we could keep in touch. We talked about all kinds of things and upon his assertion that "it doesn't matter what religion people are, we are all humans" I told him that was a very wise thing to say; he humbly accepted the compliment and I could tell he made a mental note of the new vocabulary word.

When my stop finally came up, 4 hours later than originally scheduled, they helped me off the train, carrying my luggage just as they'd done for many of the other passengers before me. "We want to come with you to the bus station to make sure you get there okay, but we have to get to Jammu," Sandeep told me. They were all on their way there to take exams so they could be social studies teachers upon retirement from the army. I thanked them for all their help, they took a bunch of photos with me, and we wished each other good luck.

From there I had to take a rickshaw to the bus stand and catch a ride to Dharamsala, which was still 4 hours away. The guy dropped me off on the side of the highway which I only allowed because there were other people there who confirmed they were waiting for the same bus I was. When it finally arrived (about 40 minutes later), I breathed a sigh of relief because the trip from there on out should be relatively straightforward. I eventually made it back into familiar territory, caught a local bus up to McLeod Ganj, and stopped in to Tibet Kitchen for some momo soup because by that time I had been traveling for a straight 24 hours and I was beat. Kalden was out hiking for the day but had graciously left his place unlocked so I could go take a shower and a nap before setting out to find a place to stay for the remainder of my time in India.

Mmm, momos!

First thing this morning, that's what I did. I elected to splurge a bit and have a place with wi-fi and a restaurant, just a couple buildings down from my former residence of Pause Dwelling. Only 19 more days!

A Small Feminist Rant

The plan was to leave Udaipur and return to Pushkar for the Camel Fair, because it sounded like fun and, well, that’s what traveling is all about, isn’t it? The sleeper bus was considerably more comfortable than the one we took from Pushkar to Jaisalmer; all parts of our bunk seemed to be more or less intact, and we ended the trip with just as much glass as we started. The driver shouted “Ajmer, Ajmer, Ajmer!” early enough for us to get our stuff together and make sure we disembarked at the right stop.

The usual swarm of rickshaw drivers met us as we stepped off the bus. One of them informed us that no buses were going from Ajmer to Pushkar after 7pm (which of course it was) because of the fair; you could take a car but it would likely cost a couple grand. After some discussion we decided to spend the night in Ajmer and head up to the festivities in the morning.

Ajmer is a largely Muslim city. Many of the women wear hijabs or burkas, the men are in caftans and those little beanies. Apparently there is also a law here that says any foreigners that stay in the hotels or guest houses have to register with the local police department. For this reason, the first few hotels we stopped at told us we weren’t even allowed to stay there because they didn’t want to deal with the paperwork. I’d been a bit irritated the last day or so because India really is a man’s world, so to speak, and it’s not uncommon for people to address Brij instead of me when we’re together. Sometimes I don’t mind this because, well, it is easier for him to do most of the talking since he fits in better, but even in places like the fancy hotel in Udaipur, more often than not we’d hear “good morning, sir” and I’d get a smile and a nod. At breakfast yesterday I ordered an espresso and when the waiter came to let us know it would be a few more minutes, he addressed Brij -- in English -- and never even looked at me. That kind of thing gets to me. Needless to say, I was already a little peeved and the blatant racism with the hotel situation in Ajmer was not sitting well with me. I suppose Brij was right, though, when he pointed out that it wasn’t just me: he has a foreign passport as well.

Still. It’s stupid.

Anyway, we wound up taking the third hotel we stopped at because it was getting late, we were hungry and tired, and no one else would even give us a second look. The prices were exorbitant because of the fair in town; they wanted 2000 rupees for a room that should cost probably 800 or 900 at most. There’s no wi-fi, the hot water barely passes for warm, and we’ve seen more than a few cockroaches climbing the walls. They’re giving us the runaround as far as pretty much everything; they kept changing the time we’d get our passports back, for example. It’s so tiring and irritating to feel like you’re blatantly being taken advantage of and there’s not much you can do about it.

Getting to the fair in Pushkar proved to be a hell of a lot more difficult than we expected also. After finally arriving at the bus stand, we found scores of people waiting to board the local buses to Pushkar. It would be cool to see the fair, but in the end we decided It was going to be more hassle than it was worth to either of us, and that we’d had enough of Ajmer, and we would just make our way back to Jaipur as soon as we could and chill there, where we had some idea of where we were and what was going on.

Luckily, buses leave Ajmer for Jaipur about once every hour, so we chilled at the hotel for a bit (waiting on our passports) before we headed back to the bus stand and then out east. Maybe I’m biased, but if you’re ever in Ajmer, Rajasthan, give the Hotel Neelam Palace a skip – there are bound to be more worthwhile places. I’m a little bummed that we aren’t making it back to Pushkar; I liked it there. Even though they had a weird set of rules that seem to be enforced pretty strictly, there was something charming about the place. I also wanted to pick up a new pair of shoes. Oh well.

We wound up hopping an afternoon bus to Jaipur and even got a room back at Chitra Katha, where we stayed our first time here. 

There's a definite comfort in being someplace familiar after the headache we just left. After a couple of days here, Brij and I will part ways and I’ll head back up to Dharamsala to finish the semester at Tibet Charity. I wonder how Gusti and my students are doing? I can’t believe my stay in India is almost over. In the beginning 4 months seemed like such a long time; now I’m in the last few weeks and it's so surreal. In under a month I’ll be Stateside, just in time for another delightful Chicago winter. (To be fair, I don’t think the winters are any better in Dharamsala.) If there’s anything you want me to pick you up from India, let me know because I won’t be here much longer!

'Murricans in the Pink City

Hey guys. Sorry for the lack of posting in the past week... we've been living it up here in Jaipur, Rajasthan. :D

Our second and final night in the ITC Rajputana involved ginger ale during happy hour, lounging on the beds (yes, beds) outside by the pool, and some bellydancing. There were a few musicians camped out by the pool playing their traditional instruments, so Marie and I decided to hang with them for a while. She got a tabla lesson:

And then she busted out her new didgeridoo and we hung out doing that for a while.

The next morning, after our delicious breakfast of Indian food and coffee milk, we headed out to explore Jaipur and get settled in at a new (cheap) hotel.

Ooh, they have Pizza Hut!

You think they're having a party for that?

There are a couple of Singer stores in the Jaipur bazaars! We seamstresses geeked out in here for a little while.

Some students from Haryana who were in Jaipur taking exams. They struck up a convo with me -- I suspect mainly to practice their English -- while Marie and I waited for Brij to get his shave from a guy on the street.

The view from the very excellent balcony where we spent a good deal of our third night in Rajasthan.

Jal Mahal, a temple in a lake.

View of Jaipur from the Tiger Fort. The city spraaaaaaaaawls forever, it seems.

Rajasthan: get carried away!

Marie headed off toward Ajmer/Pushkar a couple of days ago, and Brij and I stayed behind to roam Jaipur a little longer. It was hot in Jaipur. In Himachal, most of the Indian women wear salwar kameez, which are basically tunics over pants, with a scarf/shawl. It's pretty rare to see anyone in a sari except for a few beggars. Out here in Rajasthan, the sari thing is much more common. I mentioned that I'd like to get one -- it seems I never pack quite the right clothing -- and within a couple of minutes we had decided that we'd both get some traditional Indian clothes to wear for Diwali (which is basically just the Indian version of Halloween) this Sunday. After a full day of shopping and haggling -- at one point we had a guy offer to sell us a pair of shoes for 200 rupees, down from his original price of 1450, thanks to Brij's mad bargaining skillz -- we each had a new outfit in hand. Now all we've got to do is find a few pieces of jewelry and get some shoes for Brij and me some mehndi and we'll be ready to rock Diwali in whichever city we happen to find ourselves come Sunday......

Sleeper-classing our way to victory

Brij is pretty much the dopest person like ever. (<< He even helped me write this post.)

He got us train tickets to Jaipur so we didn't have to take a bus the whole way from Dharamsala through Delhi and into Rajasthan. See? Super dope. Anyway, Thursday we said our goodbyes to D'sala and made our way to the bus station. It was only after arriving and asking around that we realized nobody seemed to know exactly when the bus we needed was leaving.

Notice the number of people sitting in the bus station... and then how many chairs are occupied.

We had heard 2:00, 2:30, 3pm... Just as we were getting into a solid discussion regarding contingency plans, this pulled up. 

I think this one goes to Pathankot!

A few hours of cramped bus riding later (the above photo was taken before it really filled up) and we arrived at Pathankot train station. Or rather, we got dropped off down the road and across a few sets of tracks from the station; luckily, there was an army guy on the bus who was also going to the train station, so he offered to escort us there.

Only the finest in amenities at the Pathankot train station.

So anyway, we nommed on some super cheap veg thali (40 rupees each) and eventually our train arrived; we had to run to find our car before it started moving again, but we figured it out. Sleeper class was fun, if loud and crowded, and we slept for most of the 13-hour trip anyway.

Brij has hookups, so we managed to get a room in a fancy pants hotel for the next two nights. It wasn't supposed to be until tomorrow, but we were tired and hot and hungry and didn't feel like dealing with searching out a hotel when we finally arrived in Jaipur, so we found a driver and rolled up to one of the most luxurious hotels I've ever been to in a rickshaw, laughing the whole way.

EIGHT pillow options? What luxury is this??

Sooooooooo yeah. We spent last night on tiny vinyl train beds, and tonight we swam in a pool, hung out in a sauna, filled up on free drinks and canapes in lieu of ordering an expensive dinner... and tomorrow morning there's poolside yoga and perhaps another visit to the spa in order. Rajasthan is great so far. ;) I'm all about having the "real India experience," but every now and then it`s nice to be comfortable.

Really comfortable.

Manali, city of dance music!

Ah, it's nice to be someplace new. As much as I like McLeod Ganj in general, after spending two months there I was ready for a change. It's a nice little town but it's exactly that: a little town. I live in a little town in the US, I don't need to spend my entire time in India in a little town as well.

I know I've only been here a few hours, but my first impression of Manali is a positive one. We are staying in “Old Manali” because apparently it's nicer than “the rest of Manali.” We walk down the street and hear dance music playing in various clubs and cafes, there are all new items in the shops lining the roads, and the overall vibe is fresh and somewhat younger. McLeod Ganj has that sort of traditional Indo-Tibetan/dirty hippie vibe. It's not bad, but like I said... I was ready for a change. I danced my way through Old Manali this evening on our short little excursion and again as we came back from dinner. I made a couple of new friends already, too, so that's cool. I'd only been in town for about 3 hours and someone asked me out to lunch... all I have to say is lol. It's fun.

So anyway, the trip began this morning in Rewalsar, since that's where we wound up at the end of the first leg of the trip. We ate at one of the local cafes where I opted to drink my coffee sans sugar because it looked like this:

Oh look, a friend!

We trekked up to the temple (sort of... we drove most of the way and hiked the last couple of kilometers).

My snow lion impression.

There's a footprint that was supposedly left by Pema-whats-his-name himself. We had to do a bit of hiking to get there. You can always tell when you enter a Tibetan area by the sudden profusion of prayer flags.

This old Tibetan monk was asking for donations to offset his medical costs, because he has diabetes. I gave him a few rupees.

In return he gave me this bracelet and a hearty thank you.

Now THAT's a cave. I did not go in.

Nom nom nom...

There are so many red dahlias here... <3

Yup, I guess the foot print's that way.

Oh, there it is. On the wall.

We checked out the cave he did some meditating in, which now contains a number of statues and altars. It was cool without being too claustrophobic.

Gill trying to decipher the Tibetan sign.

Just for reference, that photo of HH is an 8x10.

Then it was back into the taxi for a few more hours. We stopped at a shawl emporium in Kullu (there are signs for shawl places every fifteen feet for miles on either side of the town... I would have taken more photos but we were moving too fast) where we could watch the weavers work. Obviously I had a good time there.

And then, at last... Manali!

The hotel we decided to stay in reminds me of the Timber Wolf Inn where I once stayed in Wisconsin Dells, which is a fond memory so the association is not unwelcome. The scenery's a little different, though...

No mountains like this in Wisconsin that I'm aware of!

It's colder here. You can tell by the way the doggles are snuggled up.

Oh yeah. We saw a yak.