Hooray for infrastructure

On Thursday we went to Sarnath, the “birthplace of Buddhism,” where Buddha gave his first speech after enlightenment, his discourse on the Four Noble Truths. Although we got to see the site of this event, we went to Sarnath for other reasons. In this city there is also a school that was founded by an Italian man, a friend of Kamla’s and Loknath‘s. The teachers at the ashram school are all graduates of this school and they use the same teaching methods. One of Valentino’s approaches is to bring the students inward. They do yoga and meditation every morning, and there are moments of meditation throughout the day. It seems to be quite effective and the students were impressive. In addition to learning English, they have also begun to learn Italian. After only four months of study they were able to carry on a basic conversation with the Italians from the ashram. Not bad.

Equally impressive, or maybe it just left quite the impression, was the bus ride to and from the school. Two buses transported all of the students from the ashram school, some of their parents, the teachers, staff, and volunteers. This does not mean that there was one seat for each body; often there were three or four people in a 2-seat row. It was a bumpy ride and in both directions kids were throwing up left and right. Madonna. Sarnath is 13 kilometers from Varanasi. The ride there took about 45 minutes, but the ride back took two and a half hours! The bus driver took the “bypass,” bypassing what I’m not sure. The way to the ashram? Perhaps they did this on purpose as they were getting paid extra for each hour after 3 p.m. Also, this ride didn’t include door-to-door service as the buses couldn’t reach the ashram because of the roads. The whole gang had to walk or get a ride about a half a mile on either end. Picture a group of schoolchildren weaving in and out of rickshaws, cows and buffalo, cars and motorcycles. Crazy. Yet somehow we all made it there and back. What an adventure.

It usually takes me a day or so to process what I experience here. Some things are just so bizarre that while they are going on it’s hard for me not to judge through my western eyes. Just today, for example, as I was waiting for Kamla to run an errand, I saw a woman “taking out the trash,” which meant just tossing it out the window onto the street. That was in one direction. In the other was a boy about 4 or 5 years old squatting and doing his business on a pile of rubble, some of which he then used to clean himself afterwards, right there out in the open. What I know and what the reality is here are two completely different things, so it’s challenging on many levels.


Waiting for the bus.


The Italian take on the Tibetan prayer flag. Valentino is a Buddhist and actually knows the Dalai Lama, who has visited and given his blessing to the school.


They cooked us an amazing lunch at the school. Here one of the young men prepares a chutney.

Arati

On Wednesday night Stefano, Cecilia, Tavariji (the music teacher at the ashram), and a couple from the U.S. took a boat ride down the Ganges to go see the evening arati. There is an arati at the ashram every night and while I would consider it a ritual, the main arati in Varanasi is much more extensive. It lasted about an hour and was quite spectacular. In addition to the spectacle of the arati, it was interesting to watch the dozens of boats crowd in to watch and the children hop from boat to boat selling pre-made offerings and trinkets to the tourists. "Hello, ma'am, 10 rupees, not much money, 10 rupees!"


We go barefoot a lot here, taking our shoes off in temples, on boats, etc.

A blurry shot due to the motion of the boat, but two of the seller girls watch the arati.

Sunrise on the Ganges

This morning Stefano, Cecilia, and I woke up to meet our boatman at 5 a.m. on the steps leading to the river. It was still dark out, but not for long. The sun rose slowly as the city came to life in a way that only Varanasi can. Ghat after ghat was filled with people bathing, praying, meditating, washing clothes, and burning bodies. It was a feast for the eyes... and the camera; I took 145 pictures in 3 1/2 hours! After the ride we got off in Asi Ghat to enjoy some chai before catching a rickshaw back to the ashram. We wandered the streets for a bit, mostly following Stefano as he followed his eyes or nose to this or that food stall, bakery, or shop. He always keeps us laughing with his unbridled enthusiasm. Such a good soul.

Tonight we went back out on the river, this time in a motorized boat, to see the evening arati, an elaborate ceremony involving bells, massive candles, and chanting. We saw Manikarnaka Ghat, the main burning ghat, in full swing. At first I thought that seeing it from a distance was enough, but now I think I'd like to go see it up close. Even though it may seem shocking, it's just the way it is here. Every day, without fail, I have moments when I love this place and moments when I hate it. I keep searching for the perfect analogy for the roller coaster ride of thoughts and emotions it evokes in me, but I cannot find it.


I am kicking myself for not investing in a better zoom lens for this trip, but I think you get the picture. This man is a saddhu, or holy man. There are many of them wandering around the city streets here, dressed in orange and faces painted in some way. After I took his picture he actually waved at us. :)


Indian ladies prepare their offering.


Ahhh... nothing like a hot steaming cup of chai.


Stefano requests I take a picture of him with this cow. :)

BHU

Over the weekend we visited Banaras Hindu University, a major hub of education here. (Banaras is an old name for Varanasi, as is Kashi.) The campus is enormous, like another city really. There are different buildings for each discipline - nursing, Hindi, ayurvedic medicine. The streets are tree-lined and a little less polluted than in town. We also visited the museum, which is huge as well. There were sculptures, coins, texts, you name it, all the way back to the Indus Valley civilization. It was funny because it was a pretty quiet day and the guards would turn on the lights for the exhibits as we passed by, then turn them back off after we left.


The tree-lined streets of BHU campus. Only a hint of smoke in the air.


On the campus is also a major temple, and just outside a man sells flowers for offerings.

Madonna! and other musings

No pics today, just some random thoughts...

I love Italian. We went out for pizza tonight, again! Cecilia and I decided that we eat more pizza here than we do at home. In fact, I feel like my whole diet has been carbo-loading since I got to the ashram. At meals they often serve rice, potatoes, and bread... all at once. I feel like I'm gonna wake up one morning like the Goodyear blimp. So minus a few Indians at dinner, I was the only non-Italian speaker at the table. I could follow, somewhat, the conversation, but it didn't matter because it's just such a beautiful language. I love how they say "Madonna!" sort of like we say, "My God!"

I've decided that a scarf is the best accessory to have in Varanasi, key for covering your mouth when you take a rickshaw anywhere. The dust and pollution here are awful. I have a case of what I'm calling "Varanasi lung" right now, basically just coughing and congestion, with occasional burning eyes thrown in for good measure. Are they sure that Mexico City is the most polluted place on the planet? Have they been to Varanasi?

The other thing I love here is the lack of regulation. For example, the other day I was eating an Indian snack, a bar made mostly of sesame. I know it also had some sugar and cardamom in it, but after that I can't be sure. The last ingredient listed was "etc." Really, et cetera? What does that mean? A bunch of fake stuff that if we told you, you wouldn't want to eat this? At least in the U.S. they tell what kind of fake stuff is in it, all those things that you can't pronounce.

And on that note, it's off to bed. Madonna!

Wow, wow, wow

I was awoken this morning at 4 a.m. by the sounds of music blaring from the house next door and the occasional firecracker going off. The morning puja had begun! Women and their families came to the Ganges en masse to make their offering to the sun and the river. It was easily one of the coolest things I've ever seen in my life. In their beautiful saris women immersed themselves in the water, burned incense, and prepared elaborate offerings of candles, fruit and flowers. You could tell by the goosebumps and the shivering when they emerged that the water was cold. Even if it weren't, it would feel cold after standing in it for an hour. Indian women are hardcore. I read somewhere that it's a testament to their strength that they can withstand their treatment in society and still remain so poised and graceful. I agree!


Praying.


A lone noke-wallah floats dowstream.


Some women watched as others did their puja.


A family approaches the dock.

I took about 80 pictures of this ceremony, but I can't upload that many to this blog. If you'd like to see more, please check out my Facebook page. :)

Going green

Tomorrow at sundown a puja, or offering, will begin to the Ganges. Women will come and pray for the health and wealth of their family. They will offer candles and flowers and, unfortunately, plastic. The Ganges pretty much serves as a dumping ground here. If you Google it, you will find some shocking statistics on just how polluted it is, particularly in Varanasi. I will be heading to Rishikesh in a few weeks, closer to the source, and I guess it is much cleaner up there.

About a month ago the staff and children from the ashram held a rally in Varanasi to raise awareness and encourage people not to pollute the river. They made signs with messages like this:


Today we posted these signs along the riverfront, where the women will see them as they pass by on their way to do their puja. It seems like a Herculean task to clean up the Ganges, particularly when anything and everything is dumped into it, but you have to start somewhere!


Random cutie pie shot. This is Bharat. I know you're not supposed to have favorites among children, but this kid is my favorite. He's always smiling, beaming really, just a happy-go-lucky kid. :)

For the better half of your life

Forget the personal ads, here in India they have the matrimonials section of the newspaper! Listings include information such as height, weight, salary, and caste. Fascinating. The arranged marriage is still very much alive and well here, while "love marriages" are rare. Apparently the success rate is pretty high, but my definition and the Indian definition of successful, particularly in regard to the role of women, is quite different.

Highlights of the day (although this term may be inappropriate) included seeing my first dead body floating down the river, taking a motorcycle ride through town, and buying a cell phone. I have yet to visit the burning ghats here, but I'm sure I will. Apparently not all bodies are burned; it depends on how the person dies. The motorcycle ride was a blast, zipping past cows, people, rickshaws, and cars, right in the thick of it all. The driver was a former ashram resident who now lives in Delhi. He has a law degree and is working on becoming a judge. He also had his wallet and cell phone stolen in the metro there and needed to get a new one. I decided to get one for my travels over here. The day ended at the pizzeria, awash in the lovely sounds of Italian. Bellissimo.

Awesome night

Just when I think I won't have anything to blog about for the day, something super cool happens. The boys were invited to dinner at a neighbor's house tonight (they all piled into that same vehicle from the other day!), so it was just the staff and volunteers to feed tonight. A new volunteer arrived today. His name is Stefano and he's from Italy, from the same city as Kamla and Loknath in fact. It was interesting to see how quickly some of the boys gravitated to him. The role of women in this society is very different from the U.S. and some of the boys tend to connect more easily with male volunteers.

As we were standing around chatting, waiting for the dinner gong to sound, we were invited into the kitchen to help cook! I have a whole new appreciation for our cook after participating in the process. We have chapati every day, pretty much at every meal. He rolls out and cooks each one by hand. I can't even calculate how many hours a day he must spend on chapati alone. The rest of tonight's meal was vegetables with some very yummy dill mixed in, another vegetable dish, and rice seasoned with tomatoes and some seriously hot spices. It was such a fun experience helping to prepare the meal. Cecilia helped with translation when body language wasn't enough. The cook, Pieremohan, is super nice. The first day I was here I thought he was going to hate me forever because I ended up composting some of the dahl he had given me. As it turns out, I may be misinterpreting the harsh stares that I encounter here. As the Swedish couple I met my first day in Delhi said, "What is considered normal here would be considered very rude at home." So needless to say, everyone looks much nicer when they smile. :) And Mohan makes a mean chapati, not to mention killer chai, which I look forward to every afternoon. Yum.


Cutting pieces of the dough to roll out.


The chapati puffs up over the gas flame. Note the hardcore cook - he mostly uses his fingers to flip them.

Um, did that just really happen?

Oh wow, what a day! It started out in the usual way - yoga for me, yoga with the kids, English lesson... and then it went a very unusual way. Annapurna, one of the teachers at the ashram school, was kind enough to organize a trip to the cinema for us. Yes! A Bollywood movie! I was hoping to see one of these while I'm here. What a trip, literally. The ride to the theater was the craziest ride I have ever taken in my life. 19 people in a 7-person Land Rover-type vehicle, 13 young children and 6 adults. We dropped off groups of kids along the way, so this served as the school bus for the day. It was wild.

So there were 6 of us for the movie - Annapurna, me, Cecilia, and three of the older boys/young men at the ashram. I had read that it's a good idea to go to the movies with a male companion here and this is definitely good advice. I've gotten used to the stares here, but they were even more intense in this setting. There were maybe 15 women total in attendance and scores of men. The movie was three hours long with a 15-minute intermission where they walked up and down the aisles selling snacks. It was unlike anything I've ever seen - parts of it felt like a commercial, others like a music video, and there was the craziest underwater SCUBA fight scene I've ever seen... no wait, the ONLY underwater SCUBA fight scene I've ever seen. Rajou, one of the teachers, was kind enough to translate some for me, but there was enough English and a very predictable plotline so that I was able to follow. What an experience.

Last night was a first as well - pizza in India! It was soooo good, mostly because it was something different. Pizza, Coke, and apple pie with ice cream. Mmmmm. Kamla and Loknath also got "finger chips" - French fries. Indian English, or Hinglish, is very odd.


After the movie we walked to Annapurna's house and were invited in. She made us delicious lemon tea that smelled like curry but tasted sweet. I was amazed - she, her husband, and their three children all share a space the size of my room at the ashram. Basically one big bed, a TV and DVDs in the corner, clothes hanging from string strung around the walls, and a kitchen area next to the TV. They do have a cell phone, though. So many contrasts. Despite this, what I would call a difficult living situation, they were so kind, offering tea, water, food, anything. Before we left Annapurna and her sister offered to paint our feet like theirs. We tried to offer them money, but they refused, saying we were sisters.

Steppin' out

I have been at the ashram exactly one week today. I have been out of the ashram four times, and today marked the day that I went out on my own. It's been nice to have the help of Cecilia, especially her Hindi skills, but let's be honest - after I leave the ashram I will be very much on my own, so I decided that I just need to deal. And surprise, surprise, it was fine. I managed with my few key Hindi words and the locals with their few key English words. I got what I needed - bread, jam, conditioner, Oreos (OK, not really a need, more of an indulgence) - and made it back to the ashram. I even took some photos along the way. There is simply no avoiding the feeling that you need to take a long hot shower after each foray into town. It's hot, muggy, and super dusty... kind of like New York City in the summer... times a thousand.


A piece of clothing waits for its owner to return from a dip in the Ganges.


Said dip in the Ganges.


Not only are the fabrics vibrant here, but so is some of the food.

Happy Diwali!

Yesterday was Diwali here in India, basically a holiday as big as Christmas. People exchange gifts and cards and since it is the Festival of Light, celebrating the god Ram’s victory over the god Ravan, everything is lit up. We spent much of the day placing candles all around the ashram, even up on the roof. In fact, I finally saw the monkeys today!! Here is my favorite shot that I got:


Pretty cool, huh? Well, the monkey didn’t think so. As it turned out he was jumping up onto this roof to come over and tell me just how uncool it was that I was taking his picture. Basically, he just came to the edge and gave me a menacing look. It was enough to freak me out, though, and I think my monkey craving is satisfied now. Yesterday Soham, one of the boys here, found a king cobra under one of the walkway stones. Snakes I never have any desire to see, especially the poisonous kind. I’m trying to adopt an Indian attitude, however, which means I should regard him as an incarnation of Shiva, one of the many, many gods in Hindu lore. Basically the thing lives here because he has found a good food source, namely the many frogs that live here too. So it’s been heavy on the animals these past couple days.

Diwali is also celebrated by setting off fireworks… lots and lots of fireworks. They started around 9 p.m. and went until 11 or so. Basically they’re just set off by the people who live here; it isn’t organized per se, as it is for the 4th of July, so they’re just going off everywhere, with no breaks. It's what I imagine a war zone might feel like.

One of the really cool things I got to do tonight was make an offering to the Ganges. I had seen this on TV before and thought it looked beautiful. It's even more beautiful in person - handmade candles drifting down the river en masse. It was an amazing experience.


An artistic take on the lights of Diwali.


The boys setting off their own fireworks and having a grand old time.


Making our offering candles.

Going native

There are so many things that are done differently here and the nice thing is you can choose which things you are willing to try and which you are not. Last night I decided to try eating with my hands. They offer us foreigners a spoon, but there is also chapati, kind of like pita bread, so you rip pieces of this off and use it to pick up your food. I figured I was halfway there. I found that eating with your hand is not as easy as using a utensil. Supposedly in the ayurvedic tradition it is better to eat with your hand because your body can better tell what you're eating and thus how to digest it. I'm not sure about this theory, but there it is. Ayurveda is an ancient system of holistic medicine that uses natural herbs. There is also a component about food and how we can use it to balance our body's needs. I don't know a lot about it, but I'm sure I'll learn more while I'm here. I still tend to have a lot of faith in western medicine, but then that is what I grew up with. One really different thing is that you can just walk into a pharmacy here and tell them what you need and they will sell it to you.

The other new thing that I did today was burn my trash. I know our trash is burned in the U.S. as well, but it's different doing it yourself. So today I did my part to add to the cloud of smoke in this city. Mostly it was toilet paper, another thing that isn't used here. They sell it for tourists, however, and I am grateful. That is one thing I'm just not willing to give up. You have two hands, of course, and one is used for eating while the other one is used for... well, you get the picture. Nevertheless, these two activities seem mutually exclusive to me. To be fair, there is also a spigot next to the toilet, bidet-style. I never got into that in France either.


Andrew, the American here with Princeton's Bridge Year program, eating Indian-style. The food is good, but is getting monotonous. Lunch every day is rice, dahl, mixed vegetables, and chapati. Andrew was also kind enough to share his butter cookies with me today, purchased at a bakery in town. He left a couple in a plastic bag in his backpack and when we returned from lunch they were gone. Apparently the monkeys came in and took them! I am probably the only one here who wants to see these monkeys because I guess they can be pretty destructive. They are around, but they keep eluding me!


This is the "school bus". Every morning one of the men goes out into Varanasi to pick up 10-15 of the small children and take them to the school. At the end of the morning he drives them back home. If not for this they would likely spend their days on the streets.

Just another day

Today I led a yoga class for four of the boys here at the ashram, which was fun. Then I had an English lesson with two of them; I will see the other two tomorrow. Cecilia and I are on a rotating schedule for English lessons while the boys are on a 10-day holiday from school. After this we went to help Lokenat, Kamla's husband, sift through and process the compost for planting flowers. Everything is done by hand here, which is great because it really helps you to focus and remain present.

It was a pretty peaceful afternoon after that and I managed to take a nap. In fact, last night was the first night I was able to get a normal night's sleep since arriving in India. It felt good. After my nap Cecilia and I went into town. Given the shock value of my first ride through the city, I felt like I was preparing to enter a war zone upon leaving the ashram. It was not what I expected, however. Dusty, noisy, and chaotic, yes, but not unmanageable. We went to Asi Ghat, which is a pretty well touristed area. There were lots of Westerners walking around, in fact. We went to one shop and I bought two pairs of loose-fitting cotton pants, some toothpaste, shampoo, lotion, face wash, and hand sanitizer. All of this came to about $13. I keep forgetting that everywhere you're supposed to offer half the asking price because the prices are just so ridiculously reasonable to begin with. I didn't take as many pictures as I might normally. The people are probably the most interesting sight, but I don't want to photograph them unless it feels respectful. I haven't taken many pictures of the people at the ashram either for that same reason.

I learned that there are many, many ashrams in Varanasi. A lot of them are dedicated to yoga, but this one is dedicated to seva and has its own unique rituals and traditions. There is, however, room for improvisation. The food here is delicious, and vegetarian. But tonight for dinner Kamla (Camilla) and Loknath (Lorenzo) cooked up a wonderful meal of pasta al tonno, pasta with tuna. Nothing like eating Italian food made by Italians. This was followed up by some cookies (Hob Knobs, from England) that I bought today. There is no dessert here at the ashram, so I need to get my sugar fix somehow. :)


Men bathing in the Ganges, a daily ritual for folks who live here. Not a good idea for tourists, however, due to the high level of pollution.


The small packages on the left of the display are called "paan," basically the Indian form of chew, only red.


We took one of these rickshaws into town. Most of the drivers are quite thin and I'm amazed that they can pull the weight of two or more people around.

Good Morning, Gangaji

This is the view from my room every morning:


Not too shabby. It's hot here, all the time. I'm just getting accustomed to being sweaty. I shower in the evenings because there's no point in the morning; all you do is sweat, even just walking around. Today I joined the morning meditation. I don't have a real meditation practice of my own, so by the end of 45 minutes sitting lotus-style, I couldn't feel my left leg. Tomorrow morning I'm going to try to start the day with a combination of yoga and meditation instead. The yoga room is amazing. It's all windows and overlooks the Ganges. In fact, tomorrow morning I am also going to be leading a yoga session with four of the boys, aged 9 and 10. There is no yoga teacher at the ashram currently, but there has been in the past. Really studied Indian yoga teachers, heavy into the spiritual side of things. So I'm just going to focus on breath awareness and posture. The mere thought of teaching yoga in India is intimidating, but I just have to remember that we all have something to offer. Also, Kamla has a way of making suggestions that makes it nearly impossible to say no. "You will do yoga with the children in the mornings while they are on holiday. I think it will be good for them." All of this said in her beautiful Italian accent. So, yes, I will do yoga with the children.

Kamla studied Indian culture at university and so is very knowledgeable. It's a vast subject area. I learned a lot from her today as we were all repairing some of the children's clothes. (Yes, Mom, I'm sewing, can you believe it?!) There is also a young Italian woman here named Cecilia, the c sounding like ch in Italian. And a young American man comes to the ashram every day to do seva, or selfless service. He's here through a program with Princeton. One of the main ideas behind this place is seva. You're expected to do something every day. Today I also helped wash the exterior walls and worked with two of the boys on their English. It's funny, for someone who is trying to take a break from teaching, I keep getting pulled in that direction. Maybe it's a sign. It was actually really fun today. Deepak and Samyak wanted to start out working from their grammar book. Grammar? Really? Now you're talkin'! :) We also read some stories and I got them to write for me a little bit. Their English is quite good. Apparently the teaching method in this country is rote memorization, however, so I'm doing a lot of checking for comprehension and trying to get them to think outside the box.

I've been picking up quite a few Hindi words. The script seems difficult, but the pronunciation is pretty easy. And it seems to me that most words are only two or three syllables long. I can usually tell where the verbs are when people are talking, although I have no idea what those verbs mean. Today I learned that "ji" is often added to the end of words as a sign of respect, hence Gangaji, in reverence to the river. Also, my name is Melanie didi, or sometimes they just call me didi, which means sister. It's a pretty spiritual place and has quite a calming effect on you. Even just from the first day I already feel more relaxed. Kamla has loaned me a pair of flowy pants until I can get some of my own at a shop in town. The travel pants are great because they wick away moisture, but in this heat they also seem to create moisture. Basically I feel like I'm wearing pajamas around all day. It's great. And I haven't really worn shoes since I got here. I could get used to this.


Laundry drying in the sun. I've stepped it up a notch from my New Mexico days and actually hand-washed my clothes today. There's someone who comes and will do your laundry if you like, but there's plenty of time in the day to do your own.


Every afternoon the cook comes around with chai, milk and sugar all mixed in. Yummy.

Welcome to India

Flying into Varanasi is a whole different experience than flying into Delhi. In Delhi you still get the sense that you are sort of not in the Third World, so to speak. In Varanasi you're right in it. It began with baggage claim, which was one tiny belt circulating, around which everyone on the plane crowds to try and find their bag. I have to say, though, that security seems pretty tight at Indian airports. They were vigilant in making sure that every item brought onto the plane had been screened. They even tagged my passport pouch. They also checked that your baggage claim ticket matched your bag before exiting. I did, however, manage to completely miss the customs area the day I arrived in Delhi. That's what 23 hours of traveling will do to you. Oops.

The taxi ride to the ashram was a complete assault on the senses. I have heard the term sensory overload, but I prefer the word assault. I think there are 1.4 million people who live here in Varanasi. And for the most part we're talking one- and two-storey buildings. The expression "hole in the wall" comes to mind. We drove by many of these - convenience stores, barber shops, homes, you name it. To say that the living conditions are poor is an understatement. I have yet to venture back out there, but I'm sure I will at some point. There is lots to be seen, apparently. Right now I am enjoying the peace and relative quiet of the ashram. Kamla, the volunteer coordinator who is originally from Italy, returned from a field trip with many of the kids and volunteers today, so I expect I will get a run-down on the place tomorrow. There is a definite schedule that I'm not yet used to. Most people seem to wake up around 5:30, there is meditation at 7, and breakfast sometime after that. Lunch is around 1 and dinner is around 8. Out of three meals so far, I have had curry at every one, even breakfast! There is no shortage of food, that's for sure.

Today as I wandered around the grounds, I was taken into the schoolyard and then invited into one of the classrooms. The morning starts out with meditation. It was pretty amazing - last night I happened to listen to a favorite yoga song of mine, Gayatri Mantra by Deva Premal, and this morning the children were chanting it, in full and in unison! Beautiful. There are brief interludes of meditation throughout the school day as well. I happened to be in the elementary class for most of the day. It was so cute. Some of the kids are the perfect picture of meditation - great posture, eyes lightly closed, mudra (hand positioning) all set, some are really straining to keep their backs nice and straight, and then there's the occasional kid with one eye open trying to see where the teacher is. Hilarious. Kids really are the same everywhere. I was thrown right into the mix and encouraged to teach some English. We did the alphabet, what some objects in the room are, and they practiced writing the letter A. The teacher's name is Annapurna. She actually left me alone with them a few times, which was interesting because their English is limited and my Hindi is even more limited. Somehow we managed, though.

I am beyond ecstatic at the moment as I was just shown how to turn the hot water on for a shower. Last night I had a cold shower, which actually felt great, and I had resigned myself to a month of these. Ah, the little pleasures in life. As I was reveling in my hot shower, however, in what I can already safely call classic India, the lights went out. Another adventure! Anyway, it's time to get some sleep. If you've actually managed to read this entire entry, congratulations. That is how I feel at the end of each day: congratulations, you've made it through another one!


Did I mention that the ashram is right ON the Ganges River (or Ganga, as it's called here)? Those are city buildings to the left, well cloaked in a blanket of haze. It was a high of 91 today and humid.


My room.

Sea of humanity

I have heard this expression used to describe India, and today I got a little taste of that. Unfortunately we didn't get into Old Delhi, where you're supposed to see things beyond your wildest imagination, but we did get to two different markets. The first one you had to pay to get into and the second was a wild free-for-all that winds through narrow alleyways and tiny stalls. You can get just about anything you want - clothes, jewelry, housewares, you name it. If I had a house to decorate, I would probably be going hog wild. The fabrics here are unbelievably gorgeous - fine silks, wools, and cottons, all at unbelievably low prices. I'm working on my bargaining skills. It's a little weird to bargain when somebody wants $6 for something you would easily pay $25 for in the States, but it's pretty much expected.

Tonight we went to a birthday party for one of my friend's colleagues from the school. It was fun, but also strange to step off the streets of Delhi into someone's apartment and feel like you're back in the U.S. The ex-pat scene is interesting. Some people have been teaching abroad for most of their careers. I can certainly see the appeal and I think it would probably be difficult to return to public school after such an experience.


This is a pretty good example of the range of fabrics and prints you can find here. What I would consider dressing up, some women just wear day-to-day.


This was the crazy market. No personal space here.

Three days in one

This is only my third day in Delhi, but it feels like I've been here forever. Each day is packed with so much information and so much for the senses, it almost feels like I live three days in one. Tomorrow is my last day before I head on to Varanasi and ashram life. We are planning on going into Old Delhi and to the Russian market for some shopping.

Today was amazing. I started out at Lodi Gardens, which was a pleasant walk on a hot sunny day. There's a bonsai garden in the park, along with Mohammed Shah's tomb and a couple of gumbads, or domes. The guidebook describes it as a favorite spot for lovers and there were a fair number of couples canoodling. There were also hundreds of chipmunks and several stray dogs. There are lots of stray skinny dogs everywhere here and it's hard not to pet them. I made the mistake of acknowledging one the other night and he followed me around for a bit.

The view from inside one of the domes at Lodi Gardens.

Because my driver is Sikh and I was asking him about his religion, he offered to take me to the biggest Sikh temple in Delhi. It's beautiful - marble everywhere, a big pool for bathing (if you have troubles you're supposed to come here and bathe for 40 consecutive days), and a large industrial-style kitchen. Every day they feed about 35,000 people here for lunch and dinner, free of charge. Everything in the temple is free - admission, the shoe check (you can't wear shoes on the grounds or inside the temple), the food, if you want it. It's a really beautiful place. And thanks to Mr. Singh, I was able to go into the kitchen and take pictures. It was really cool and I was feeling very National Geographic. ;) They also insisted that I try some food, a delicious creamy rice dessert. Yum!


The Sikh temple and bathing pool.


Making bread for the masses.

Also on the agenda today was the Gandhi museum. What an amazing human being - so inspiring. I also went to the Tibet House, a small museum about Tibetan culture which has rekindled my desire to try and go there. The last stop of the day was an outdoor market - finally! Now I understand why the indoor markets, even though you pay more, can be appealing. At least there you only have one person hovering over you; in the outdoor markets every stall is, "Hello, ma'am, you come look. Nice price for you." It was way overwhelming by the end.

So all in all, another great day in Delhi. I'm a little sad to leave, but I know that new adventures await me in Varanasi.

This snake charmer was in the courtyard outside the restaurant where I had lunch.

A day in Delhi

Today I hit the town with Mr. Singh, my friends' reliable and very knowledgeable taxi driver. He is a Sikh, so wears a turban and he tells me that his hair is 2 and a half feet long, having never ever cut it. He also speaks five languages: Punjabi, Hindi, English, Japanese, and Russian. He was wonderful, driving me all over the place and waiting for me at each stop. All of this for around $20 for the day

My first stop was Qutb Minar, a minaret and one of the first monuments of Islamic rule here. It and the surrounding structures are examples of early Afghan architecture. It is 73 meters high and very impressive. So of course I was taking plenty of pictures and then a series of funny events began to take place. I was taking a photo of one gateway through which a group of Indians was descending. When they noticed me taking a photo, they all started waving and shouting. As they approached me they smiled and asked me to take their picture. I obliged, of course, though utterly confused. Did they expect this to be a polaroid that I could print out for them to take home? No. They just wanted me to take their picture. Next, as I approached the monument an Indian woman encouraged her kids to gather around me so they could take my photo with them. Again, confusing but entertaining at the same time. Being the cautious tourist who had heard so many horror stories, I had in the back of my mind that I was being distracted in order to have something sneakily removed from my person. Nope. None of this. Just pictures. There were several school girls visiting the monument as well and pockets of them would approach me from time to time to say hello or ask me to take their picture. I think in some cases they just wanted to try out their English. One random guy took my picture with his cell phone. I felt a little like an animal at the zoo. Not offended, just highly entertained. My theory is that these people are exotic looking to me, so perhaps I am exotic looking to them. My hosts tell me it might be a status thing, like Westerners are considered worldly. I don't know. In any case, it was one of the most interesting experiences I have ever had as a tourist. I can only imagine what they might say when they show this picture to their friends. Will they pass me off as some distant cousin from America?

After this, Mr. Singh took me to a couple of indoor markets, which are not unlike souvenir shops in the U.S, where every kind of souvenir native to the area can be found. The first one was reasonably priced and they were very nice, promising "no pressure" even though the guy followed me around to every corner of the store. He almost had me sold, but I was pretty sure I could get better deals on the street. The second market was very upscale, where apparently people from the embassy shop. This translates to ridiculously overpriced. Here I learned to tell the difference between what a real pashmina scarf should feel like and what a cheap one feels like, however, so that was worthwhile. I didn't buy anything until I got to another market where the shops are separate. Women's clothes here are both beautiful and practical, made for the climate and the cultural norms. I am planning on stocking up so as to blend in a bit more.

Someone who has been to India on several occasions told me that I would know if I loved India or hated it within the first 48 hours. It is a land of contrasts - rich and poor, chaotic and peaceful - and I love it. Again, I 'm sure that part of this has to do with my introduction to it, in dribs and drabs and with insider information, but it's beautiful. I think it's like the traffic here; you just have to know how to maneuver through it.

Qutb Minar with the sun behind and a bird soaring above.


Detail on the monument.


Some of the sweet school girls who wanted their picture taken.

First pics

I managed to get some sleep last night and only ventured out briefly on my own today, namely to get some cash from the ATM. Gandhi is pictured on the bills here. I met Clara Jean at her school in the afternoon for a tour. They work at the American Embassy School here and it really is like an oasis in the middle of the chaos. They also live in the diplomatic enclave so their apartment serves as kind of a refuge. I think if I didn't have this connection here and were thrown into downtown Delhi on my first night, it might be a little overwhelming. We met a Swedish couple at dinner who were completely swept up in a tourist scam their first day here. From everything I've heard and read, this is quite common. You arrive exhausted, hungry, and disoriented and these "touts" are everywhere telling you they can help you with this, that, and the other thing. This couple booked a tour to a number of cities for way too much money. Apparently it is quite common here to charge foreigners more for just about everything. In the news recently was a story about a couple who paid 10,000 rupees for a doughnut in some market. This is the equivalent of $200. So needless to say, one must proceed with caution.

After dinner we went to Purana Qila (Old Fort) for a performance of classical Indian dance. Each piece told a story about Hindu myth and scripture. Thanks to yoga I was able to follow a little, as many of the poses are named for various gods and we learned some of their stories during our training. The outfits, not surprisingly, were stunning. And I have to say that there is just something captivating about Indian women, something beautiful and graceful. Even the flight attendants seemed to exude this peaceful air about them. During the performance I had one of those moments of, "Wow, I'm really here. I'm watching an Indian dance performance in India. How cool is that?" It's one of those rare moments when you are truly present and just drinking it in.


On my morning walk I saw this tree. I have no idea what kind it is, but it's pretty huge and cool looking. There also appears to be some type of shrine on it.


The best pic I could get of the performance with low lighting and no tripod.


Exiting the venue.


The gateway into the fort.