mumbai is a truly amazing city, one that i very quickly fell in love with upon spending some time in colaba. kingfishers at leopold cafe (made famous by gregory david roberts´ shantaram), cups of chai under the gateway to india, walks along the chaotic covered market on the causeway and extremely outgoing fellow travelers make the city an intoxicating blend of colonialism, tourism and modern india.
after the train ride from chennai and the epic battle with the cab drivers, i spent most of the first day there sleeping in the hostel that i found with the help of an old man who was patrolling the early morning streets looking for someone to shepherd into a a place to stay. i woke up in the early evening, a perfect time to take in the people watching at leopold, where before long i had had drinks with an older swedish man who was some sort of telecom mogul and two danish girls, one of whom was an actress in sean penn´s into the wild. she thought it was quite funny that her billed role in the film was "danish tourist." they had earlier made friends with a wild german fellow named jan who later joined us and we wound up having a couple of beers on the breakwater near the gateway. a very productive first night in mumbai was just beginning.
it was very early in the morning by the time we decided to retire, though jan and i decided it was the perfect time to find a cup of chai. he quickly gave up on the search but i found a stand that was buzzing with locals, even around three a.m. one man noticed me observing the goings on and struck up a conversation. obviously, he was a tour guide and he asked if i would like to go around town with him. he seemed nice enough so off we went after talking for a few hours. the sun had just come up and the city was back to its crazy self. my new friend mayur decided to take me to his house in the colaba slum, also heavily discussed in shantaram. mayur´s house was on the top of a few others in the slum and he showed me his great view with the utmost pride. i spent the majority of the day with him there, before going to a fish market and having him take me to a few other spots around town off of the gora line.
i spent a few other days with mayur in the slum before leaving for dubai and new york. it was truly remarkable to see how those people live and to see the level of happiness that they exude at every turn. i found it to be interesting that the slum was the only place in india where i was not hassled for money, where no one attempted to scam me for anything. the people who needed the money the most were the most friendly people i met in that country. traveling there was very stressful at times and lovely at others, but the few days in the slum was unforgettable and made the six weeks in india truly worthwhile.
Monday, August 3, 2009
chennai to mumbai
train ticket secured, i walked across the street from my hotel to the chennai egmore station to board the six a.m. train to mumbai. chaiwallahs and other sellers of various goods were already out in full force, making it a perfect india train riding experience. making it an even more perfect experience was the fact that i had gotten a ticket on the most basic class of travel on indian trains. i had the lowest of three beds hung from the ceiling of the train, meaning i was packed against the wall by the rest of the travelers on that half of the berth.
the ride got underway almost on time, surprisingly, and i was glad to leave the station as it is not pleasant to wait on the tracks for an extended period of time in indian train stations - the local folks seem to rather enjoy using the tracks as a public toilet when they are unoccupied by the large, light blue train cars. they also open the water spigots that line the tracks in the stations and use them as impromptu showers whenever possible. stagnant water along with human waste along with the heat make for a truly memorable olfactory experience.
needless to say that i was concerned about the 26-hour ride that i had in front of me. after the first few hours, however, i realized that i was truly enjoying the trip, listening to my ipod and sporadically engaging in conversation with folks who were especially interested in my seattle mariners baseball cap. the only drawback that i could find about the lower train class was that beggars are not removed from the cars. in the air conditioned classes, the train conductors are pretty good about keeping people out of the cars who have not purchased a ticket, but they don´t seem to mind in the lower classes of travel. every so often i would be prodded by a beggar who had found himself lucky enough to encounter a gora in the sleeper class. one boy didn´t want money from me, he only wanted the remainder of a bottle of coke that i was drinking.
i had fallen asleep for a couple of hours, as it is pretty difficult to stay awake when it is very warm and you have a nice breeze coming through the window to keep you cool while listening to old sigur ros albums. i was jolted awake by a woman who pulled off my hat and headphones and grabbed my face in her hands. she was a really incredible looking creature, probably in her fifties, with stark white hair tied in a pony tail, hands and face died with henna, chains joining the piercings in her ears and nose and stunning green eyes contrasted against her chocolate brown skin. she stared at me for an uncomfortably long period of time, released my face from her grasp and said, "thank you, i have now seen the soul of god in you eyes." she disappeared out of the berth and up the aisle, leaving me to deal with the rest of the onlookers, whom by that point were numerous. each of them were giving me a stare that i can´t really classify, unclear as to what they meant by their glances.
it is impossible to go hungry or thirsty on indian trains as there are constantly chaiwallahs and wallahs of other drinks and snacks patrolling the train cars trying to make a sale, each screaming at the top of their lungs what they are selling. even in the middle of the night it is possible to procure some sort of treat, if you are able to look away from your sleeping quarters for a second. this is a very dangerous game, however, as it requires the dedication of a sentinel to protect your bed from those who have boarded the train without making a reservation with hopes of jumping into a bed with someone who isn´t paying proper attention to share a place to sleep for the night. even if you are asleep and someone sees an opening, they will not hesitate to take it and try to get into your bed with you. this was another thing that only happens in the sleeper class on trains.
another danger at night are the projectiles that are launched from the sides of the tracks by kids trying to have a good time. someone in an adjacent car was struck by a rock around two a.m., forcing the conductors to go around, waking everyone on the train and instructing them to shut the blinds, making the remainder of the ride rather uncomfortable without the natural ventilation provided by the open windows, which are actually just squares cut out of the side of the train with bars over the openings. needless to say, this proved to be a rather sleepless night.
the train pulled into the mumbai dadar station around six a.m. dadar is not one of the major stations in the city and i was therefore accosted by the gaggle of taxi drivers who had congregated outside the gate. i sat down on a curb, hoping that my indifference would force them into dispersing, though i had no such luck. quite the opposite, in fact, as a pair of drivers snatched one of my bags and put it into their cab. i was headed for colaba and they told me that they would run the meter, so i found myself to be quite fortunate. about fifteen minutes later, we were on the colaba causeway and i was getting out of the cab, handing them the amount of rupees dictated by the meter. of course, these two idiots pulled out a sheet of paper with the "meter conversion" rates on it, a list that stated that i owed them rs. 850.
a fifteen minute cab ride in new york city doesn´t cost $17, so these two were in for it. i demanded their names and the number of the cab so i could call the transit police, at which point the argument really got going. too tired and sick of the two idiots to continue, i handed them the money. when i asked for my change, they told me i had not paid them, so they owed me no change and kept asking for the original amount over and over again. at this point i got out of the cab, pulled the driver out and coincidentally discovered the money i had given him under an elastic band up his sleeve. the other driver jumped out of the car and threw my bags on the sidewalk before the two of them sped away.
i had been welcomed back to mumbai in true indian fashion!
the ride got underway almost on time, surprisingly, and i was glad to leave the station as it is not pleasant to wait on the tracks for an extended period of time in indian train stations - the local folks seem to rather enjoy using the tracks as a public toilet when they are unoccupied by the large, light blue train cars. they also open the water spigots that line the tracks in the stations and use them as impromptu showers whenever possible. stagnant water along with human waste along with the heat make for a truly memorable olfactory experience.
needless to say that i was concerned about the 26-hour ride that i had in front of me. after the first few hours, however, i realized that i was truly enjoying the trip, listening to my ipod and sporadically engaging in conversation with folks who were especially interested in my seattle mariners baseball cap. the only drawback that i could find about the lower train class was that beggars are not removed from the cars. in the air conditioned classes, the train conductors are pretty good about keeping people out of the cars who have not purchased a ticket, but they don´t seem to mind in the lower classes of travel. every so often i would be prodded by a beggar who had found himself lucky enough to encounter a gora in the sleeper class. one boy didn´t want money from me, he only wanted the remainder of a bottle of coke that i was drinking.
i had fallen asleep for a couple of hours, as it is pretty difficult to stay awake when it is very warm and you have a nice breeze coming through the window to keep you cool while listening to old sigur ros albums. i was jolted awake by a woman who pulled off my hat and headphones and grabbed my face in her hands. she was a really incredible looking creature, probably in her fifties, with stark white hair tied in a pony tail, hands and face died with henna, chains joining the piercings in her ears and nose and stunning green eyes contrasted against her chocolate brown skin. she stared at me for an uncomfortably long period of time, released my face from her grasp and said, "thank you, i have now seen the soul of god in you eyes." she disappeared out of the berth and up the aisle, leaving me to deal with the rest of the onlookers, whom by that point were numerous. each of them were giving me a stare that i can´t really classify, unclear as to what they meant by their glances.
it is impossible to go hungry or thirsty on indian trains as there are constantly chaiwallahs and wallahs of other drinks and snacks patrolling the train cars trying to make a sale, each screaming at the top of their lungs what they are selling. even in the middle of the night it is possible to procure some sort of treat, if you are able to look away from your sleeping quarters for a second. this is a very dangerous game, however, as it requires the dedication of a sentinel to protect your bed from those who have boarded the train without making a reservation with hopes of jumping into a bed with someone who isn´t paying proper attention to share a place to sleep for the night. even if you are asleep and someone sees an opening, they will not hesitate to take it and try to get into your bed with you. this was another thing that only happens in the sleeper class on trains.
another danger at night are the projectiles that are launched from the sides of the tracks by kids trying to have a good time. someone in an adjacent car was struck by a rock around two a.m., forcing the conductors to go around, waking everyone on the train and instructing them to shut the blinds, making the remainder of the ride rather uncomfortable without the natural ventilation provided by the open windows, which are actually just squares cut out of the side of the train with bars over the openings. needless to say, this proved to be a rather sleepless night.
the train pulled into the mumbai dadar station around six a.m. dadar is not one of the major stations in the city and i was therefore accosted by the gaggle of taxi drivers who had congregated outside the gate. i sat down on a curb, hoping that my indifference would force them into dispersing, though i had no such luck. quite the opposite, in fact, as a pair of drivers snatched one of my bags and put it into their cab. i was headed for colaba and they told me that they would run the meter, so i found myself to be quite fortunate. about fifteen minutes later, we were on the colaba causeway and i was getting out of the cab, handing them the amount of rupees dictated by the meter. of course, these two idiots pulled out a sheet of paper with the "meter conversion" rates on it, a list that stated that i owed them rs. 850.
a fifteen minute cab ride in new york city doesn´t cost $17, so these two were in for it. i demanded their names and the number of the cab so i could call the transit police, at which point the argument really got going. too tired and sick of the two idiots to continue, i handed them the money. when i asked for my change, they told me i had not paid them, so they owed me no change and kept asking for the original amount over and over again. at this point i got out of the cab, pulled the driver out and coincidentally discovered the money i had given him under an elastic band up his sleeve. the other driver jumped out of the car and threw my bags on the sidewalk before the two of them sped away.
i had been welcomed back to mumbai in true indian fashion!
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
pondicherry to chennai
definitely the most interesting bus ride of my time in india, the short three hour jaunt from pondicherry to chennai proved to be high quality bang for your buck entertainment. rs. 53 (roughly one dollar) for the three-hour trip, which although not one of the more scenic drives, was one of the more expeditiously completed legs of my journey, due to the fact that it traveled along an actual, legitimate highway, therefore allowing the bus to go more than 40 km/hr.
since there were several wide lanes in which to drive and since it was india, people had idea that they could drive as fast and as outrageously as they pleased. this is all in good fun until people start cutting off the massive and overpacked 18-wheeler trucks that are also flying down the road. my fellow traveler and i were crammed into the back of the bus with our backpacks and an indian woman had sat down next to me, who decided to use my leg as an arm rest. apparently, the social stigma of indian men sitting next to white omen doesn't apply the other way around.
looking out of the very dirty windows, we witnessed yet another event that i will never forget. a small car cut in front of a huge truck. the truck had to attempt to to swerve out of the way, unsuccessfully. the truck then fell on its side, slamming to the pavement with such force as to throw its passegers through the windscreen. the men skidded down the road in front of the truck and i would be surprised if any of them survived the ordeal. it was one of those things that happens in slow motion, and the noise of the crash was quite remarkable.
we later saw a few more accidents, but none were as intense as the truck crashing. the longest part of the trip as getting into chennai, which is a sprawling, filthy, indian city. negotiations were made with a rickshaw driver who took us to the backpacker area and further negotiations were made for a place to stay for the night before we could find train tickets to escape chennai.
after dealing ith multiple 'travel agents,' who claimed there ere no seats on any trains for a couple of weeks, we went to the main train station and were able to purchase tickets for the following day. my friend was off to delhi, going north on a 33-hour train and i was heading 26 hours west across the country back to mumbai on a sleeper class ticket, the lowest class on long distance indian trains. this was going to be a true india experience. total cost for the ticket was rs. 400, about eight dollars.
since there were several wide lanes in which to drive and since it was india, people had idea that they could drive as fast and as outrageously as they pleased. this is all in good fun until people start cutting off the massive and overpacked 18-wheeler trucks that are also flying down the road. my fellow traveler and i were crammed into the back of the bus with our backpacks and an indian woman had sat down next to me, who decided to use my leg as an arm rest. apparently, the social stigma of indian men sitting next to white omen doesn't apply the other way around.
looking out of the very dirty windows, we witnessed yet another event that i will never forget. a small car cut in front of a huge truck. the truck had to attempt to to swerve out of the way, unsuccessfully. the truck then fell on its side, slamming to the pavement with such force as to throw its passegers through the windscreen. the men skidded down the road in front of the truck and i would be surprised if any of them survived the ordeal. it was one of those things that happens in slow motion, and the noise of the crash was quite remarkable.
we later saw a few more accidents, but none were as intense as the truck crashing. the longest part of the trip as getting into chennai, which is a sprawling, filthy, indian city. negotiations were made with a rickshaw driver who took us to the backpacker area and further negotiations were made for a place to stay for the night before we could find train tickets to escape chennai.
after dealing ith multiple 'travel agents,' who claimed there ere no seats on any trains for a couple of weeks, we went to the main train station and were able to purchase tickets for the following day. my friend was off to delhi, going north on a 33-hour train and i was heading 26 hours west across the country back to mumbai on a sleeper class ticket, the lowest class on long distance indian trains. this was going to be a true india experience. total cost for the ticket was rs. 400, about eight dollars.
Monday, June 22, 2009
kumily to pondicherry
after a few days of peace and quiet in kumily, it was time to move along and the girls that i was with headed to a different hill station, the guy that i was with headed to bangalore and i decided to make the long overnight trip to pondicherry. the only bus that was going from kumily to pondi stopped in a place called cumbum where i waited for a few hours for the second bus to arrive. the second bus was a "sleeper" bus, which meant that instead of having seats it had small beds hung from the sides of the bus. this seemed like it would be a pretty nice way to travel at first glance, but having fairly extensive experience with the way in which buses are piloted around in this country, i knew that i was in for a long fourteen hours.
laying down in the "bed" to which i was assigned was a chore in and of itself and as soon as the bus began to ramble down the road it took quite a bit of concentration to hold on to the small rail that was meant to be keeping me from falling off of the thing. this is all on top of the basic chaotic nature of travel in india, with people screaming at each other, cars and scooters dodging cows in the road and there always seems to be one person who has to cycle through every one of the ringtones on his or her phone until one is deemed suitable. this could take anywhere from a few seconds to a few hours. either way, its not particularly pleasant.
arriving in pondi in the early hours of the morning was also not pleasant as i was the only foreigner on the bus, which meant that the rickshaw drivers would be especially hard to deal with. i guess you could say that i was a bit lucky that these were the fiestiest of rickshaw drivers, including three who decided to have a shoving match during which a few punches were thrown to decide amongst themselves who would be taking me to a guesthouse. i sat on the curb for about a half an hour while this unfolded and finally one gentleman emerged victorious. he took me to a few places which were full and in the end i wound up about ten kilometers out of town in a homestay which was cheap and decent enough for my purposes.
after taking a nap, it was time to secure transportation. i asked the man who was running the homestay if i could rent a bike from him and he called a friend who quickly appeared with a real deal motorcycle, not a scooter or moped or anything, a motorcycle. i have gotten to be very good at driving the scooters in traffic in asia, but was a bit intimidated by having to shift gears on a much more powerful bike. i jumped on it and took off into traffic and ever since have been in love with motorcycles.
it was an especially great way to get the lay of the land in pondi, which is an old french colony that still retains a great deal of its french history. combined with modern india, it makes for quite the interesting place and is easily navigable due to its simple grid layout. north and south of the city are nice, clean beaches which at times are empty. riding the indian-made bajaj motorcycle to discover new places to swim in the bay of bengal was an excellent way to spend a few days until my friends met me in pondi. we took the trip to auroville on one afternoon which is a sort of cult-like city that is meant to be based in no way on politics, cultures, religions or anything of that nature. the few thousand inhabitants of auroville only are there to devote their lives to discovering what was referred to as the "ultimate truth." there is a very large spherical structure in the center of the town that looks like a giant gold golf ball, inside of which is a crystal ball that is supposed to have some sort of truth discovering power. it was definitely an entertaining place to visit.
i think the most interesting experience that i had in pondi was on a ride out of town towards the homestay where i spent my first week here. people had been setting off fireworks for days and none of us could figure out why until i came upon a procession of people setting them off and throwing flowers on the road. they were also pulling behind them a cart with a dead body on it, which was neatly dressed in traditional indian clothing. obviously, it was a funeral procession on the busiest street in town during the busiest time of day which made the traffic that much more outrageous. on top of that, the flowers that were being thrown around had also attracted a large number of the local wandering livestock. amidst the fireworks, dead bodies, traffic, screams of mourning and the general chaos that is india, were dozens of cows, buffaloes and goats that had emerged to eat the flowers that were being thrown. it made for quite the scene, especially since there were three such processions occuring one after the other.
on top of all of this, the absolute insanity of the situation had forced to buses to collide and all of the passengers had disembarked to scream at the opposing bus driver. if you have read shantaram then you have an idea of what this might look like. it seemed as if there were two tribes of people getting ready to go to war with each other as soon as one group or the other acted first. this is all happening on a two lane road, which is used by hundreds of thousands of people on a daily basis, around five in the evening which was the beginning of the local rush hour.
i was on my way out of town to check out of the homestay where i was an move into town to hang out with my friends. i gathered my things, returned the bike and keys and then jumped in a rickshaw that came to life with a sound i had never heard before and then dozens of people rushing towards the little three-wheeled device screaming at the top of their lungs. they began to pull the driver out of the seat and one man was furiously attempting to detach a chain from the rickshaw while the group of people were screaming at the driver. the man working the chain got it free and then pulled his small dog out from under the wheel of the cart. the dog was alive and had a few scratches, but was very happy to have been removed from the situation.
the driver rushed to the man and began to bow and prostrate himself on the ground, touching the dog owner's feet and asking for forgiveness. the owner touched him on the head and he stood up, continuing to apologize. he then shoved me back in the rickshaw and took off down the road, waving to friends in passing as if nothing had happened, asking the two standard questions that all rickshaw drivers ask young travelers, "where country are from," followed by, "want smoke marijuana." why in the hell that guy had tied his dog to a parked vehicle is still a mystery to me, but it certainly was interesting.
in the span of an hour i had seen quite a bit of things that really are impossible to accurately depict in words.
laying down in the "bed" to which i was assigned was a chore in and of itself and as soon as the bus began to ramble down the road it took quite a bit of concentration to hold on to the small rail that was meant to be keeping me from falling off of the thing. this is all on top of the basic chaotic nature of travel in india, with people screaming at each other, cars and scooters dodging cows in the road and there always seems to be one person who has to cycle through every one of the ringtones on his or her phone until one is deemed suitable. this could take anywhere from a few seconds to a few hours. either way, its not particularly pleasant.
arriving in pondi in the early hours of the morning was also not pleasant as i was the only foreigner on the bus, which meant that the rickshaw drivers would be especially hard to deal with. i guess you could say that i was a bit lucky that these were the fiestiest of rickshaw drivers, including three who decided to have a shoving match during which a few punches were thrown to decide amongst themselves who would be taking me to a guesthouse. i sat on the curb for about a half an hour while this unfolded and finally one gentleman emerged victorious. he took me to a few places which were full and in the end i wound up about ten kilometers out of town in a homestay which was cheap and decent enough for my purposes.
after taking a nap, it was time to secure transportation. i asked the man who was running the homestay if i could rent a bike from him and he called a friend who quickly appeared with a real deal motorcycle, not a scooter or moped or anything, a motorcycle. i have gotten to be very good at driving the scooters in traffic in asia, but was a bit intimidated by having to shift gears on a much more powerful bike. i jumped on it and took off into traffic and ever since have been in love with motorcycles.
it was an especially great way to get the lay of the land in pondi, which is an old french colony that still retains a great deal of its french history. combined with modern india, it makes for quite the interesting place and is easily navigable due to its simple grid layout. north and south of the city are nice, clean beaches which at times are empty. riding the indian-made bajaj motorcycle to discover new places to swim in the bay of bengal was an excellent way to spend a few days until my friends met me in pondi. we took the trip to auroville on one afternoon which is a sort of cult-like city that is meant to be based in no way on politics, cultures, religions or anything of that nature. the few thousand inhabitants of auroville only are there to devote their lives to discovering what was referred to as the "ultimate truth." there is a very large spherical structure in the center of the town that looks like a giant gold golf ball, inside of which is a crystal ball that is supposed to have some sort of truth discovering power. it was definitely an entertaining place to visit.
i think the most interesting experience that i had in pondi was on a ride out of town towards the homestay where i spent my first week here. people had been setting off fireworks for days and none of us could figure out why until i came upon a procession of people setting them off and throwing flowers on the road. they were also pulling behind them a cart with a dead body on it, which was neatly dressed in traditional indian clothing. obviously, it was a funeral procession on the busiest street in town during the busiest time of day which made the traffic that much more outrageous. on top of that, the flowers that were being thrown around had also attracted a large number of the local wandering livestock. amidst the fireworks, dead bodies, traffic, screams of mourning and the general chaos that is india, were dozens of cows, buffaloes and goats that had emerged to eat the flowers that were being thrown. it made for quite the scene, especially since there were three such processions occuring one after the other.
on top of all of this, the absolute insanity of the situation had forced to buses to collide and all of the passengers had disembarked to scream at the opposing bus driver. if you have read shantaram then you have an idea of what this might look like. it seemed as if there were two tribes of people getting ready to go to war with each other as soon as one group or the other acted first. this is all happening on a two lane road, which is used by hundreds of thousands of people on a daily basis, around five in the evening which was the beginning of the local rush hour.
i was on my way out of town to check out of the homestay where i was an move into town to hang out with my friends. i gathered my things, returned the bike and keys and then jumped in a rickshaw that came to life with a sound i had never heard before and then dozens of people rushing towards the little three-wheeled device screaming at the top of their lungs. they began to pull the driver out of the seat and one man was furiously attempting to detach a chain from the rickshaw while the group of people were screaming at the driver. the man working the chain got it free and then pulled his small dog out from under the wheel of the cart. the dog was alive and had a few scratches, but was very happy to have been removed from the situation.
the driver rushed to the man and began to bow and prostrate himself on the ground, touching the dog owner's feet and asking for forgiveness. the owner touched him on the head and he stood up, continuing to apologize. he then shoved me back in the rickshaw and took off down the road, waving to friends in passing as if nothing had happened, asking the two standard questions that all rickshaw drivers ask young travelers, "where country are from," followed by, "want smoke marijuana." why in the hell that guy had tied his dog to a parked vehicle is still a mystery to me, but it certainly was interesting.
in the span of an hour i had seen quite a bit of things that really are impossible to accurately depict in words.
kochi to kumily
after having made friends with a few traveling brits in fort kochi, it was decided to head east into the mountains to visit the periyar wildlife reserve outside of kumily in kerala. the trip consisted of about six hours of being thrown around on a classic indian bus, with hard seats and instead of having glass for windows, only a few metal bars were in place to keep all appendages inside the vehicle. these sort of trips were much more stressful traveling solo and having a group of friends with which to enjoy the ride made it a much more fulfilling experience.
the most interesting part of the journey was that none of the indian men who boarded the bus would sit next to the english girls with whom i was traveling. the men would rather stand or sit three to a seat than sit next to them. at one point when there were no more sitting or standing options, a man pulled me by the arm to the seat across the aisle where one of the girls was sitting and told me that i should be sitting with my people. this came as quite a surprise but everyone took it in stride and it turned into a bit of a joke. regardless, the social taboo that is sitting near a western woman for an indian man became quite apparent. it could very well work the opposite way, that western men should not sit next to indian women, but i haven't had the chance to test this theory as of yet.
the periyar wildlife reserve is quite a beautiful place and we trekked to the top of a peak about one thousand meters high, which allowed for a really incredible view of the western ghats on one side and the deccan plateau into tamil nadu on the other. there were a few issues with leeches but all in all it was a very nice way to spend an afternoon. no animals were spotted, however, which was not surprising, especially for one of the guides who had been working in the area for decades and had only once seen a tiger.
animals or not, it was quite nice to get into the mountains for some fresh air and a much more relaxed atmosphere in general.
the most interesting part of the journey was that none of the indian men who boarded the bus would sit next to the english girls with whom i was traveling. the men would rather stand or sit three to a seat than sit next to them. at one point when there were no more sitting or standing options, a man pulled me by the arm to the seat across the aisle where one of the girls was sitting and told me that i should be sitting with my people. this came as quite a surprise but everyone took it in stride and it turned into a bit of a joke. regardless, the social taboo that is sitting near a western woman for an indian man became quite apparent. it could very well work the opposite way, that western men should not sit next to indian women, but i haven't had the chance to test this theory as of yet.
the periyar wildlife reserve is quite a beautiful place and we trekked to the top of a peak about one thousand meters high, which allowed for a really incredible view of the western ghats on one side and the deccan plateau into tamil nadu on the other. there were a few issues with leeches but all in all it was a very nice way to spend an afternoon. no animals were spotted, however, which was not surprising, especially for one of the guides who had been working in the area for decades and had only once seen a tiger.
animals or not, it was quite nice to get into the mountains for some fresh air and a much more relaxed atmosphere in general.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
mysore to kochi
i elected to get on another overnight bus from mysore to reach kochi, which is in kerala, the southernmost province of india's west coast - self proclaimed to be "gods own country." the twelve-hour adventure south was relatively uneventful, except for crossing the provincial border from karnataka into kerala, which is also a wildlife reserve. a few small trees had been knocked over across the road and there were buses and trucks and all sorts of conveyance gathered around the trees. it was the middle of the night at apparently, a couple of elephants had gotten adventurous and decided to knock the trees into the road. they were youngsters, most likely elephant teenagers, so this made sense to me. the two elephants stood on the side of the road observing their handiwork and the chaos that it had created.
the most interesting thing about taking the overnight buses is that you arrive in the towns just as they are waking up and you get to see what goes on in the early morning in all of the different places. what goes on in the early morning is very similar to what goes on during the rest of the day - not very much. a lot of standing around and spitting, which seems to be the favorite past time for all men in india.
the bus arrived in ernakulam and i took the short ferry to kochi where i was accosted by autorickshaw drivers and hotel owners at the dock. i now refuse to give people who hassle me my business so i walked away from them and into the little town which is wonderful. it is very relaxed and full of friendly people, though i came to find that the hotel i booked into lacked hot water.
kochi is famous as a portuguese, dutch and chinese fishing and trading village from the 1500's . there are still giant chinese fishing nets on the shore at fort cochin, which the fishermen still use today. they are run on cantilevers and only used at high tide when the current is going the right way, but they are remarkably interesting contraptions that are made of teak wood and have been standing for centuries.
all in all, it was well worth the trip to kochi to get away from the chaos of the rest of india.
the most interesting thing about taking the overnight buses is that you arrive in the towns just as they are waking up and you get to see what goes on in the early morning in all of the different places. what goes on in the early morning is very similar to what goes on during the rest of the day - not very much. a lot of standing around and spitting, which seems to be the favorite past time for all men in india.
the bus arrived in ernakulam and i took the short ferry to kochi where i was accosted by autorickshaw drivers and hotel owners at the dock. i now refuse to give people who hassle me my business so i walked away from them and into the little town which is wonderful. it is very relaxed and full of friendly people, though i came to find that the hotel i booked into lacked hot water.
kochi is famous as a portuguese, dutch and chinese fishing and trading village from the 1500's . there are still giant chinese fishing nets on the shore at fort cochin, which the fishermen still use today. they are run on cantilevers and only used at high tide when the current is going the right way, but they are remarkably interesting contraptions that are made of teak wood and have been standing for centuries.
all in all, it was well worth the trip to kochi to get away from the chaos of the rest of india.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
mumbai to mysore
i escaped my sort of prison that was shunde, china to hong kong a few weeks ago. i spent a week in hong kong waiting for my visa to india to be processed and then made my way to the airport to jump on a flight to mumbai. my experience in china was so unfair, even by the standards of my employers, that they offered to purchase a plane ticket for me to wherever i wanted to go. of course, when i said i wanted to go to india, they retracted the offer and only after me really screaming at them did they stand by their word. it is amazing how many times on a daily basis people in asia, and from what i have heard from other friends, people in the developing world as a whole, will try to do whatever sort of dishonest thing that they can to get out of spending money.
no matter where i have gone, there have always been people trying to run some sort of scam. i arrived in india in the early hours of the morning and had made a reservation at a hotel near the airport. when i showed the address to a cab driver, he, of course, told me that the address doesn't exist and that he would take me to a cheap hotel, the entire time showing me some sort of identification card that should have been a dead giveaway that i was in for it. it was 3 am and i just wanted a bed to sleep in, i didn't really care at that point.
so the cab driver takes me to a hotel, which looks decent enough and i am immediately escorted into a room where the quick talking boss sits me down and asks for six thousand rupees for the bed for the night, two beers, breakfast and a bus ticket to goa. i was planning on going to goa anyway, so i figured this was pretty sweet and handed him the money, drank my beer and went to bed. i got up around noon the next day, had my breakfast and went to the "bus stop" which consisted of two plastic stools with a tarp over the top of them. the operator of this bus stop told me my bus would be there in a half an hour. a half an hour later, it would be there in another hour. i wound up sitting at the bus stop for over five hours waiting, during which time i did the math on my room for the previous night. i had spent about 150USD on something that i could have gotten for around 30. i also realized that the hotel was in the dead center of a slum so if i had been smart and left the place, i would have had nowhere to go.
a 17-hour busride dropped me in mapusa, goa, where i went to anjuna. anjuna is a really nice little beach town perched on top of a cliff that drops into the water. i was very pleased about this and even more pleased about the accomidation that i found. a hotel run by an elderly couple for 250 rupees a night. perfect! it was a ten minute walk on the beach to the ever popular "shore bar" and i spent a week there before traveling south to margao to catch a train to mangalore.
margao is pretty basic, not much to report on it. i got my train ticket and spent a night in a place that had a tv in it - i realized i hadn't seen sportscenter since feburary and it was excellent. the train ride the next day however, was not. 10 hours to mangalore in 3AC class, which means there are six cots hung from the ceiling of the train, three on each side of the berth. these trains and horrifyingly filthy, cockroaches everywhere, people spitting and throwing food, screaming babies and there was even a domestic dispute in the adjacent berth. needless to say i didn't get any rest, but it certainly was an experience.
mangalore is just as non-descript as margao, even though i did find an electrical outlet converter so i could finally recharge my ipod. i had to spent a few extra days in mangalore because i was too sick to travel anywhere else - enough said about that.
i then got on another ten-hour busride southeast over the western ghats and up onto the deccan plateau to mysore, which is a very crazy place. the maharaja's palace is in mysore along with the devashara market and a few other fun things to see. the con artists here are also first rate because marijuana is legal in this province. one guy started chatting me up about some music festival and next thing i knew i was sitting in a house operated by a man who claimed to be a national bodybuilding champion from the 1970s where they make incense and essential oils. i was pretty much forced to purchase something so i got this oil that keeps mosquitoes away - it actually works!
the guy that originally started the scam then took me to a bar where he and his two friends ordered drinks, which were obviously on me, and started smoking weed. one of them claimed to be some sort of palm reader and said that he would read my palm if i bought him a small bottle of whiskey. i bought it because it cost nothing. the guy started chugging the whiskey and smoking weed simultaneously - he had taken notes from bill murray and chevy chase in caddyshack. he then was far too messed up to read my palm so i left, highly entertained.
by this time i am pretty fed up with this guy following me around and spending my money for me, so i tell him i am going to get something to eat and then go back to my hotel. he takes me to a restaurant and orders something for me, then holds out his hand and asks for money for showing me around. it is more of an insult to give these people a small amount of money than no money at all so i gave him 10 rupees and told him to go away.
as soon as he left, i realized everyone in the place was looking at me with a very disappointed countenance. one of the waiters came to my table and said, "your friend is a very very bad man." obviously he hadn't seen the seinfeld where babu baht says this to jerry, but it sounded exactly the same. i had to laugh because of all this.
at least the con artist is not a respected member of society in india.
no matter where i have gone, there have always been people trying to run some sort of scam. i arrived in india in the early hours of the morning and had made a reservation at a hotel near the airport. when i showed the address to a cab driver, he, of course, told me that the address doesn't exist and that he would take me to a cheap hotel, the entire time showing me some sort of identification card that should have been a dead giveaway that i was in for it. it was 3 am and i just wanted a bed to sleep in, i didn't really care at that point.
so the cab driver takes me to a hotel, which looks decent enough and i am immediately escorted into a room where the quick talking boss sits me down and asks for six thousand rupees for the bed for the night, two beers, breakfast and a bus ticket to goa. i was planning on going to goa anyway, so i figured this was pretty sweet and handed him the money, drank my beer and went to bed. i got up around noon the next day, had my breakfast and went to the "bus stop" which consisted of two plastic stools with a tarp over the top of them. the operator of this bus stop told me my bus would be there in a half an hour. a half an hour later, it would be there in another hour. i wound up sitting at the bus stop for over five hours waiting, during which time i did the math on my room for the previous night. i had spent about 150USD on something that i could have gotten for around 30. i also realized that the hotel was in the dead center of a slum so if i had been smart and left the place, i would have had nowhere to go.
a 17-hour busride dropped me in mapusa, goa, where i went to anjuna. anjuna is a really nice little beach town perched on top of a cliff that drops into the water. i was very pleased about this and even more pleased about the accomidation that i found. a hotel run by an elderly couple for 250 rupees a night. perfect! it was a ten minute walk on the beach to the ever popular "shore bar" and i spent a week there before traveling south to margao to catch a train to mangalore.
margao is pretty basic, not much to report on it. i got my train ticket and spent a night in a place that had a tv in it - i realized i hadn't seen sportscenter since feburary and it was excellent. the train ride the next day however, was not. 10 hours to mangalore in 3AC class, which means there are six cots hung from the ceiling of the train, three on each side of the berth. these trains and horrifyingly filthy, cockroaches everywhere, people spitting and throwing food, screaming babies and there was even a domestic dispute in the adjacent berth. needless to say i didn't get any rest, but it certainly was an experience.
mangalore is just as non-descript as margao, even though i did find an electrical outlet converter so i could finally recharge my ipod. i had to spent a few extra days in mangalore because i was too sick to travel anywhere else - enough said about that.
i then got on another ten-hour busride southeast over the western ghats and up onto the deccan plateau to mysore, which is a very crazy place. the maharaja's palace is in mysore along with the devashara market and a few other fun things to see. the con artists here are also first rate because marijuana is legal in this province. one guy started chatting me up about some music festival and next thing i knew i was sitting in a house operated by a man who claimed to be a national bodybuilding champion from the 1970s where they make incense and essential oils. i was pretty much forced to purchase something so i got this oil that keeps mosquitoes away - it actually works!
the guy that originally started the scam then took me to a bar where he and his two friends ordered drinks, which were obviously on me, and started smoking weed. one of them claimed to be some sort of palm reader and said that he would read my palm if i bought him a small bottle of whiskey. i bought it because it cost nothing. the guy started chugging the whiskey and smoking weed simultaneously - he had taken notes from bill murray and chevy chase in caddyshack. he then was far too messed up to read my palm so i left, highly entertained.
by this time i am pretty fed up with this guy following me around and spending my money for me, so i tell him i am going to get something to eat and then go back to my hotel. he takes me to a restaurant and orders something for me, then holds out his hand and asks for money for showing me around. it is more of an insult to give these people a small amount of money than no money at all so i gave him 10 rupees and told him to go away.
as soon as he left, i realized everyone in the place was looking at me with a very disappointed countenance. one of the waiters came to my table and said, "your friend is a very very bad man." obviously he hadn't seen the seinfeld where babu baht says this to jerry, but it sounded exactly the same. i had to laugh because of all this.
at least the con artist is not a respected member of society in india.
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