Somewhere in India

I wish I could pronounce the name of the city (town? village?) I'm at right now but it's just not happening. Our hotel is like an oasis in the middle of a desert--outside it is all dirt roads, scantly dressed little children running around the streets, half-crumbled buildings collapsing into puddles of black water which stray dogs are bathing in, cows sleeping in the middle of the road, gypsy camps, and so on. Yet our hotel is gorgeous, with a huge open courtyard and a beautifully decorated restaurant. My room has a tainted antique feel, with big mirrors and a huge rustic wooden door. We just had dinner in the courtyard, under the stars, with a Rajasthani family sitting on the grass next to us, playing instruments and singing.

Everything in India is slow. We arrived at our hostel in Delhi after about eight hours of travelling overnight, anxious to just sleep! But of course things don't work like that here, and the Indian receptionist kept assuring us, "soon, verrry soon, but we must wait for warden." Apparently a warden had to approve the room? I still don't understand. About an hour after waiting, I approached the man again, but I couldn't talk to him because he was busy getting BITCHED OUT by a British couple who were in the same predicament as us, yet were not as patient. The guy was yelling at the top of his lungs about two inches from the receptionist's face, demanding a room. He eventually took his bags and left, and I feel bad for him, because he'd learn soon enough that this was not an isolated incident. India likes to take their time! A three hour wait for something is not a big deal. So, end of story: 140 rupees later, we got our room without the warden ever coming. The receptionist took a liking to me and he kept saying, "Miss, I favor you, I favor you!" So we got our damn room.

Everytime we tell a local person that we are going to Rajasthan, they look at us like we are crazy. They all say something along the lines of, "Rajasthan? Nooo! Why? Rajasthan in July? Verrry verry hot there, not like Delhi." Meanwhile, I'm standing there in my salwar-kameez (Indian outfit for women consisting of loose pants and a long shirt/dress that goes down to your knees, along with a type of scarf that you wear over your shoulders) with rivers of sweat pouring down my face, my hair is stuck to my forehead and I'm fanning myself with a used fan I bought from a little girl on the street for 10 rupees. Yet in Rajasthan it is "very hot, not like Delhi" ?!?! Meaning that Delhi right now is not considered very hot????

Upon further investigation, Tree and I discovered that while Delhi is 95 degrees right now, Rajasthan is 115. And we are travelling in an un air-conditioned car. AHH!! If it wasn't hot enough, in Jaisalmer, we take a camel safari into the desert and sleep there for the night. I personally think it's insane.

But basically, India is, straght up, a crazy country. The traffic laws are like no other I've ever witnessed. They make Peru's traffic look like child's play. A car will just go on the wrong side of the road towards you and you're like, this is it, this is the end, a giant truck is going to break my little white car in half... and maybe half a second before the fatal collision it swerves out of the way, into a ditch and back out, and you're not dead. After about ten of these, my driver, in an attempt to (I think) justify the traffic in India says to me, "Miss, the truck drivers, they smoke the opium, you know? It is the opium, that is why."

Cows sleep in the middle of the highway. And these aren't rural highways, I'm talking about the middle of the highway in the capital of India. And everytime the car stops, skinny, barefoot little children approach your car and recite a sob story. A little girl with one arm will say, "Pleez miss, I have no mader, I have no fader, no sister, no brader, my doctor, my arm, no mader," and look at you with the saddest little face... I can't ignore them. Little five year old boys will weave through traffic and stick out their dirty little hands for a rupee. Bicycles, tuk-tuks, motorcycles, camels pulling carts, elephants, people walking by foot... everybody shares the road, it is exploding with people.

When we first got to India at 7am, we looked out of our taxi window and saw white fog up in the sky. It took us a few moments to realize that it was not fog, but pollution. Dirt flies up on the road as a car swerves and suddenly everything is brown. Trucks blow out the thickest, blackest smoke... piles of trash will be on the side of the road for a mile straight, with cows and stray dogs digging through it for food. To say the least, India is very overwhelming.

I hope this is not giving you a negative impression of the country. It is dirty, yes, and poor, but I think the country is beautiful. The temples are incredible. The Red Fort in Delhi is one of the most impressive buildings I've ever seen. Humayan's Tomb is fabulous, and kept immaculately clean. Seeing what goes on inside temples is also very fascinating-- Hindis all kneeling down, tracing a 'swastika' (Hitler stole the swastika sign from here, it actually means good luck, ha) in red paint on the altar before a statue of a god, and then leaving a gift over it.

The people are soo friendly! Many of them speak English. One negative aspects though is that I get really intense stares by men wherever I go because of my hair and skin tone.

And the food... THE FOOD!!!!! Vegetarian is the norm, first of all, and, well, Indian food is my favorite cuisine of all time so as you can imagine, I'm happy with it. Curry for breakfast? Yessss.

However I am left handed, and that presents a problem. In India, you eat with your right hand (and with no forks/spoons), because the left hand is considered dirty, since that is the hand one wipes with in the bathroom. It took some getting used to, but I'm getting good at it! Also, you use a spoon to serve your food onto the plate, and that is done with the left hand. It's all very interesting.

I have so many pictures that I really need to take off my memory chips, but these dial-up computers just aren't cutting it for me. I don't think anyone knows what a USB port even is here. When I get to Jaipur, I have been told that there is high-speed internet everywhere, so I'll put them up there.

I could go on forever, but I'm sweating and want to go into my nice air-conditioned room, and finish my novel, which is DAMN GOOD. (Anyone read The Brothers Karamazov? Anyone else in love with Ivan?)

I apologize for any spelling errors or fragments, but it's way too hot to proofread right now.