International Hookah Sessions, Dancing with Miss Tibet, and Overcoming Hotel Adversity

Hello from Rishikesh! I apologize for keeping you all in suspense for so long, but...No, I did not meet His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Sadly, there seems to be a lot of mis-information and rumors regarding His Holiness' appearances in Dharamsala, so no dice for us. We did, however, meet many many Buddhist monks who have met him and have told us, as expected, that he is an amazing person and very very funny.
Our time in Dharamsala was unique because, lucky for us, we had a local to show us around. Way back in San Diego, my travel buddy Juliana was browsing the local swap meet when she came across a man selling Tibetan relics and struck up a conversation with him. She told him she was soon departing for India, and the man excitedly replied that his family lives in Dharamsala and he gave her his brother's phone number and insisted we call him when we arrived. So we did, and for the duration of our stay we were shown around town by Thupten, who is one of the man's brothers and probably one of the genuinely nicest people I've ever met. He took us around to all the Tibetan temples, all the best Tibetan restaurants, and even took us to the Tibetan Center for Performing Arts, where many young Tibetans were rehearsing for the upcoming Miss Tibet Pageant.
Thupten is the assistant to the organizer of the Miss Tibet Pageant, which is held annually in Dharamsala. We were able to see first-hand the preparations for the pageant, which began on June 6th (after we had departed Dharamsala). Thupten admitted to being extremely busy and frantic the entire time we were there, but never ever lost his cool and always took the time each day to meet up with us and show us a little bit more of Dharamsala. Such a cool guy. One night there was to be a welcoming party for the four Miss Tibet contestants and for all the people who helped organize the event, and Thupten invited us as well. The reason there are so few contestants in the Miss Tibet pageant, Thupten explained, was that Tibetan women are typically very shy, conservative, and reserved, and very hesitant to participate in an event which requires them to speak out for their country and for the rights of all citizens of their country, so having even four young women participate in such an event is a source of great pride for all Tibetans. When I spoke to the main organizer, he said he was quite happy with the outcome, but also admitted to be frustrated with the low number of participants and said next year, he wants at least ten. So, the party was quite a fun time. Free food, free booze, great tunes, and gorgeous Tibetan woman. Good times. We sat and drank and talked for a while, but once you combine drinking and music, dancing is bound to happen. I danced with several of the contestants for a while and had a pretty interesting conversation with one of them. At one point later in the night she shyly asked "So based on what you've seen, who do you think is going to be Miss Tibet?" I smiled at her and said "Oh that's easy! You, of course!" She liked that response. There came a point in the conversation where she admitted she couldn't understand what I was trying to ask, but fortunately, Michael Jackson came on the speakers and I said "Nevermind, let's dance!" If there's one universal language, it's good ol' MJ :)
Earlier in our stay in Dharamsala, we befriended a guy named Kenny who was working for the Tibet Post. He invited us out one night for a going-away party for his co-worker so we gladly came along. We had some coffee and ice cream but pretty soon found ourselves just three people, since the rest of the gathering "had to get to bed early." Laaame. So we found a rooftop hookah bar and sat on some pillows near a low, round table and asked for a hookah. As it turns out, this hookah bar is in possession of one, single hookah, which was being used by two Israeli girls nearby. The owner told us we had to wait one hour before it became available. I didn't feel like waiting, so we simply asked the Israeli ladies if we could join in. They said sure, and three was now five. After a pleasant conversation in a Hebrew-English hybrid, I found out that one of the girls knew my cousin's best friend back in the Holy Land. Small world, huh? No, not really. We just say that when situations like those arise.
It seems that news of this singular hookah spread quickly, because not ten minutes later, five became seven, the latest addition being two Indian girls on vacation from Delhi (where at the time, temperatures were in the high 110s). A few coals and several Kingfisher (the beer of choice in India...very strong) liter-sized bottles after that, we had one hookah and about eighteen people smoking, drinking, talking, and dancing with us. This group consisted of citizens from Israel, India, New Zealand, Canada, China, England, France, Egypt, and of course, the good ol' US of A. During my drunken good time, I made sure to take a moment and remember this event. I found it pretty darn cool how through one hookah and a few (OK, not a few, a lot) beers people from so many different places can come together for a night and have a great time as if we'd known each other for years. What a great model for foreign relations. Maybe the UN should start having keggers?
After being gently kicked out of the bar, we went to one of the party people's hotel rooms to keep the party going. That lasted maybe ten minutes, and we were kicked out again. Fine. One my way out of the hotel, I was going down a dark staircase quite fast and banged my forehead on those roll-down steel doors so hard it left a mark for a week. Yay for drunken injuries. I stepped out onto the street and after realizing I had no idea where I was, I took three steps and found my hotel. What luck. Another party-goer was staying at the same hotel and confessed to having two more liter-sized Kingfishers in his bag, so we sat on the roof of our hotel drinking, with an amazingly clear full moon providing the lighting. I then realized I couldn't remember the last time I had heard a night as quiet and peaceful as this one.
The next day, while battling a relentless hangover, we came back to our hotel after dinner and found a scorpion in our sink. Not a spider, not a cockroach, a scorpion. And not a little one, either. After spending many many minutes deciding what should be done about it, we opted to cover him with a small pitcher provided by our hotel and then set a melon on top of the pitcher in case the guy was stronger than we thought. Oh yeah, Thupten gave me a melon earlier, so, we had a melon to use. I had never seen a scorpion in real life before (except maybe behind a layer of protective glass), so I had no idea how it would react to anything we did. With the scorpion trapped, we slept a very uneasy sleep and first thing the next morning, packed our bags and went looking for a new hotel.
We found a nice hotel along the next street, and since our room was on the third floor, we felt safer than we did before from different types of arachnids that might want to share our beds. Our previous room was along a slope of a hill and it had rained the day before, so we guessed the scorpion was trying to keep dry. So we go out and grab a bite to eat and when we come back, a British couple staying one door over from us approaches me and asks "S'cuse me, you didn't by chance see an iPhone around, did you?" I told them I hadn't, and they said they're pretty sure it was stolen. They had gone out on the common balcony for not even ten minutes, but had left their door open and when they returned, no iPhone. Maybe they just left it in a bag or something. The next day, the hotel manager comes and asks us to give him our passports for record-keeping, because there had been a robbery at the hotel. Upon further questioning, we find out that the man staying directly across from us had befriended a local Indian man who had drugged him while having tea in his room and then stole all his cash, credit cards, and camera. Sheesh, what luck. We go from a scorpion in one place to a thief in another. And to make matters even worse for the man across the hall, the drugs he had been given had apparently done a number on his digestion, because the day after the robbery, we came back to the hotel to find little pieces of human feces leading all the way from the lobby, up the two flights of stairs, and directly across from our room. As if having your stuff stolen wasn't bad enough, he had the digestive discomfort and the embarrassment of having shat all over the hotel to deal with. And I won't go into much detail about it, but the smell was f**king horrific. Ugh.
But, even with those little bits of adversity to overcome, Dharamsala was an amazing place with scenery like I've never had the pleasure of seeing before. Seeing the snow-covered foothills of the Himalayas every day just makes you a little happier than usual. Everyone we met was extremely friendly and I will definitely miss it.
And now I am back in Rishikesh for the final leg of my Indian journey. I am staying at an ashram here (just like the Beatles did) and it is SO relaxing. My days have become a bit of a routine, but a very welcome one. Wake up, eat breakfast, read and/or draw, eat lunch, take a nap, walk around the gorgeous grounds and admire the many statues of the various Indian deities, do yoga, meditate, eat dinner, read some more, go to bed. Ok, so it's not quite that routine. Yesterday, for example, I had my first sitar lesson and it is nothing like playing a guitar. My index finger in both hands throbbed and ached for the entire day as a result of a single, one-hour lesson, but it was so worth it! Once I caught a good groove on the sitar, my teacher got on the tablas (small Indian drums similar to bongos) and we were jammin'! I even had my eyes closed and head bobbing around to the hypnotic sounds, almost as if I knew what I was doing. We then listened to many Indian sitar masters on his computer and of course, talked about George Harrison.
I have about a week left here on this incredible sub-continent before I take off to Italy so I hope to give you all one more entry before I depart. I am already making plans to come back and further experience this country. While I feel I have seen so much during my time here, I know I have seen so very little. This is a journey I would highly recommend to anyone and everyone, especially for those who want to see something "different." No amount of mental preparation can ready you for actually being in India, but to me, that's what makes the place so darn interesting.

Take care, my friends!

-Matan

P.S. To make up for the disappointment of not meeting the Dalai Lama, I'll leave you with a joke instead, courtesy of my good friend Raphael:

What did the Dalai Lama say to the hotdog vendor?

Make me one with everything.

A Change of Pace, the City of Le Corbusier, and Chillin' with the Tibetans

Hello and greetings from Dharamsala!

It's been a while since my last posting, and that's because, I'm happy to say, not too much has happened since. Rishikesh was a great change of pace from the crazy and hectic cities we previously visited. There was one day where I literally did nothing other than eat, drink, take a nap, and read. It was awesome! Did I feel guilty about not utilizing my time a little more efficiently while on the other side of the globe? Nope. I'm on vacation, so I shall treat it as such.

Not every day was spent in such a sedentary manner, however.

The first full day there we hiked down to the main village and wandered through the local shops, which sold pretty much what every other shop in India sold: jewelry, clothes, souveniers, and toiletries. But these stores also sold literature about yoga and spiritualism in the Buddhist and Hindu fashion, as well as CDs used for meditation. We walked down to one temple on the bank of the Ganges river and witnessed the Ganga-arti, which is a religious ceremony performed every night at sunset where hundreds of Hindus gather on the river's edge and sing devotional songs to the all-mighty Shiva. There's a fire pit, and at one point plates of fire are passed around and everyone grips the plate and shakes it in a circular motion. There are also small rafts made of flowers and leaves that you can buy, and in the raft there is a candle which you light and set adrift down the Ganges, along with a wish or devotion to Lord Shiva. It was cool to see, but sitting amongst so many people got rather hot and uncomfortable, and since I was sitting on marble steps, certain parts of my body got "un"comfortably numb after a while. Still, the tunes were pretty cool.

Another day was spent walking in search of "the waterfall" which we had heard other hotel guests mention. The info about the waterfall, however, was mixed. Specifically the distance it was from the hotel. The main source we talked to said "a few kilometers." Hey, that's not that far at all! I could even wear my flip flops for this hike :) So off we go, chasing waterfalls. For some of the time I did have TLC in my brain, warning me against the journey upon which I was embarking. So we walk...and walk...and walk some more. We walked through the main village, then another village, and pretty soon we were walking on a road with nothing but trees and monkeys around us. After a while, we started asking anyone we passed on the road if they know where the waterfall was, and every one assured us it was "just a little ways down further." So, after about two and half hours of walking, topped off with twenty minutes of climbing a rather steep mountain, we found THE WATERFALL. To be honest, it really wasn't that impressive. Sure, it was pretty, but nothing to write home in a blog about. But I decided to make the best of it and even showered off a bit in the falls, which were freezing cold and very refreshing. By the time we got back to the hotel, it was dark and my legs and feet were on fire, but at least the monkeys didn't attack us. All in all, I guess we hiked about 12-14 kilometers for this journey. A little further than we thought, but at least we got some great cardio!

The next day I did something I had never before done in my life: yoga. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but to sum it up, it was about an hour and a half of stretching. Not to say that it was boring or slow. There were times when I was really feelin' the burn and stretching muscles I didn't even know I had. And the poses really did wonders for my aching calves and quads. Our instructor was a delightful Indian guy about my age who pronounced the number 13 like "t-HAR-teeen." It was pretty funny. Every time I would get in a pose and stretch myself to the point of near agony, he would come along and gently position me right into agony. Thanks, dude!

On our last full day there, I walked down to the bank of the Ganges, because during our long waterfall hike I saw many pristine beaches which I wanted to further investigate. I brought along my bathing suit and a good book, ready to relax for a few hours. For a few minutes, it was pure tranquility. Nothing but the sounds the Ganges and a few birds here and there. I sat in the freezing waters (it was really hot outside, so this contrast of temperatures was great) and let my mind wander.

Then I noticed two Indian guys about my age wading in their underwear nearby, and sure enough, they made their way towards me and started asking me all sorts of questions about my home country and how I like India. I didn't mind much, they were very friendly and curious. We spoke for quite a while about Rishikesh and India in general, and they were even kind enough to tell me all sorts of curse words in Hindi, as well as the various slang terms for both male and female reproductive organs. What nice fellas :) They then told me where in Rishikesh I could find the best hashish as well as the cleanest prostitutes. Awesome. I then said, "So, what do you guys do?" They replied, "We're police officers." At first I laughed, certain they were joking. But a few minutes later, they emerged from behind some nearby rocks, fully dressed in their Indian Police Force uniforms, saying it was "time to get back to work." I guess they do it a little differently here in Rishikesh, haha.

Since the travel time from Rishikesh to Dharamsala, our next destination, was 15 hours by bus, we decided to split the journey in half and stay for one day in Chandigarh. This city, located in the state of Punjab and mostly populated by Sikhs, is significant because it was planned out by the famous Swiss-born architect LeCorbusier. Unlike any other city in India, this one is laid out in a very rigid and organized grid system and the entire city is divided into "sectors." This made traffic slightly less chaotic and certainly gave the city a greater feeling of organization and control. I foolishly thought that since we were so much further north than Rishikesh, it would be cooler. WRONG. Holy crap I don't know how these folks do it. We did go see this amazing sculpture garden made entirely of recycled glass and ceramic (www.nekchand.com), but after that, we had to get indoors. I was excited to see Chandigarh's Museum of Architecture featuring the planning process of the city and plenty of models and drawings outlining the city's evolution, but no, all city buildings are closed on Monday. Crap! I napped instead.

The next day was spent on what was probably the most uncomfortable bus ride of my life. We sat about eight-and-a-half hours in seats built for children tolerating dusty, bumpy roads, hairpin turns, and constant honking from a horn that I swear was an air-raid siren in its past life. But then I reminded myself how much worse this whole experience would be if I had traveler's diarrhea, and suddenly life wasn't so bad. We made it to Dharamsala in the late evening and if the direct views of the Himalayas weren't enough, the air was cool and the roads were clean! It was like we had reached Nirvana.

So Dharamsala is the home of the Dalai Lama and the exiled Tibetan government. There are many many Buddhist monks roaming the streets here and today we took a tour of the main temple and discovered a juicy bit of info: His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama of Tibet will be here TOMORROW!!! He will be at the Temple and will deliver a speech and with any luck, I'll be able to see him speak. Wow, what luck! The entire time in India everyone had told us "That's cool you're going to Dharamsala, too bad the Dalai Lama's never there."

Well, I'll let you folks know tomorrow if I saw him or not...wish me luck!

Thanks for reading,

Matan

You know they wrote the White Album here

Hello friends! I have just arrived in Rishikesh, the famous ashram-riddled town in the northern Indian state of Uttarakand where the Beatles came and wrote the legendary White Album. I am extremely happy to be here for one reason: it's not triple-digit weather. This town is quite near the foothills of the Himilayas so the heat isn't ridiculous and there are more breezes to cool you down. Today is the first day we didn't book a hotel with A/C. The tab? A whopping 300 rupees, which split down the middle equals 3 bucks a day. Not too bad.
So since my last posting, we had a few days in Varanasi, considered by many to be the holiest city in India. Varanasi is one of the oldest continuously occupied cities in the world, having been constantly inhabited for over 3,500 years. What makes Varanasi different from other ancient cities like Athens, Jerusalem, and Beijing is that religious tradition hasn't changed one bit over the millenia. The practices we observed along the ghats (steps) of the holy Ganges river were the same thousands of years ago.
We took an overnight train from Tundla (about 30 minutes east of Agra) to Varanasi in a 4-person sleeper car which we shared with two Muslim pilgrims from Indonesia. They were on a religious pilgrimage from Indonesia through Bangledesh and India which was to last about 4 months. The more talkative pilgrim, Habib, told me that my name in Indonesia means "tiger." Cool. After a surprisingly pleasant sleep, we woke early in the morning and observed the pilgrims in their morning prayers, which was very interesting to me. One of them even had a compass to insure the prayer was directed in the appropriate direction, which in this case I would assume to be West, since India is east of Mecca.
We arrived at the Varanasi train station very early in the morning, but not too early for the rickshaw drivers, who came up to us immediately with offers of rides. Since we were both still tired and dirty, we took the first offer presented to us, which turned out to be quite a fortunate decision. Our driver, Khan, ended up being our driver for the entire stay in Varanasi and somewhat renewed my faith in the rickshaw drivers in general, because while they're all trying to make money, there are in fact some who are trying to make it honestly and fairly. Our hotel was quite comfortable, but in Varanasi there is a shortage of electrical power and the city is prone to frequent blackouts during the day, which means no A/C at times. This proved to be frustrating since Varanasi was the southernmost location so far on the trip and it...was...HOT. But we just sweated it out and dealt with it. Most of the first day was spent indoors trying to stay cool. A bit later Khan took us to a few temples, including one founded by Ghandi himself. To our amazement, we actually heard thunder and it even rained a little bit! This was only temporary though, and along with the rain came strong winds which created terrible dust storms which made riding through the choatic streets nearly unbearable.
The next day we woke at 4:30AM and Khan took us to the Ganges river for a sunrise boatride. This was my favorite part of the trip so far, due in no small part to the fact that it was cool and breezy. The boat ride took us along all of the ghats of Varanasi, where we saw locals bathing, fishing, washing clothes, playing water polo and cricket, and of course, burning dead bodies. In Hinduism, Varanasi is considered a holy place to die, and if you are cremated along the banks of the Ganges you get an instant, one-way ticket to Nirvana. Funeral processions led by Hindu holy men are quite common in the streets and always lead down to the banks of the Ganges. There is a very precise science to using the right amount of wood to cremate a body, and prices can vary from a few hundred to many thousands of dollars, depending on the type of wood you use. Photography of the burning ghats is strictly forbidden, but I got lots of good pics of everything else.
After the boat-ride, we were taken to several Buddhist temples about 20 kilometers north of Varanasi. We went to one Buddhist temple where the Buddha himself gave his first sermon. Kind of a big deal. We also saw the Indian Archaeological Museum which featured many carved stone depictions of Buddha from the 11th and 12th centuries. I also had an amazingly refreshing mango creamsicle.
We had lunch at a very nice hotel and invited our driver to eat with us, since before he always waited outside for us in the scorching heat while we dined in comfort. We spoke with him for quite a while about his life, his family, his goals and ambitions and this made me realize how incredibly fortunate we Americans are. Khan has no education of any kind and driving the auto-rickshaw is all he is able to do to make money. He said he wanted to be a police officer, but since this requires bribing the police academy many thousands of dollars, this dream will forever be just that. The average Indian citizen earns about 95 dollars per year, yet I had spent this much in my first 3 days in India. Wow. Khan did say he was very happy though, because he had a wife he loves very much and two wonderful children. Indians place great importance on family and divorce is nearly unheard of and is treated as a shameful act in Indian society.
The next morning we took a train from Varanasi to Haridwar, which was a journey of 18 hours. This was actually quite enjoyable, since we got a chance to speak with a very intelligent and friendly Indian man about life, philosophy, cultures, and family. It was nice to see that even though our cultures are quite different, they're also very very similar. Towards the end of our journey we found out that he is a very high-ranking police officer in the Indian Police Force (he's in charge of 1,200 officers) and even though he had several Indian police officers come on the train with him, carry his bags, and salute him, I didn't detect one trace of ego or entitlement from him. A very pleasant experience.
And now, after a noisy and dusty busride from Haridwar, we find ourselves in Rishikesh, the yoga capital of the world. This place is quiet and clean, and surrounded by mountains and tranquility. I am relieved to be here and wouldn't mind staying a while...it's nice to get away from the crowds and noise of the Indian cities. There are many tourists here, most of which have come either to learn yoga and meditation, or go trekking and rafting. I look forward to just sitting and relaxing for a bit, and not hearing the constant honk of a rickshaw or bus horn. Maybe I'll even pick up a sitar and write my own White Album. Or maybe I'll just take a nap.
Yeah, that sounds good :)

Leaving Delhi, The Taj Mahal, and some lessons of India

So here I am sitting in an internet cafe in Varanasi thinking about the past 5 days in India, although it seems more like 5 weeks. Even though I'm not even a week in, I'm already exhausted from traveling.
The rest of our stay in Delhi was nice, but after 3 days I was ready to leave. Our timing was unfortunate because the Commonwealth Games are coming to Delhi, so there's construction everywhere, which of course means lots of dust and noise. Combine that with intense heat and sweat and you don't get the most pleasant of combinations. One day I ventured out past our main hotel's street to see some of the older monuments of Delhi and soon found myself in near desperation trying to find a subway station that's "right around the corner," according to our hotel clerk. Any person offering help was just ostensibly attempting to guide me to another government tourist office, which is just one of many scams in Delhi where you are taken to a very cozy air-conditioned office where they offer you tour packages of India for insanely inflated prices. Pretty soon I found myself greeting any person on my way to the subway with "Hi, I'm looking for the subway station, and no, I'm not going to the government tourist office, thank you." After navigating through a maze of construction obstacles and endless offers of rickshaw rides, I found the station! The Delhi Metro is very clean and organized, although not used by many non-Indians. I was the only non-Indian in the station and was getting many lengthy stares. But the ride was quick and easy and although I missed my stop and was fined 50 rupees, I had made it to the Jama Masjid, an old mosque built by Shah Jahan, the same guy who built the Taj Mahal. Once I got there, I was denied entrance since it was prayer time for the Muslims. I took a cycle rickshaw over to the nearby Red Fort, was hassled again by sales people of all kinds, took some pics of the Fort, decided it was too hot to go in, and headed back to the Metro. I got back to the hotel and relaxed in the delightful A/C and realized that yeah, I'm ready to leave Delhi.
Our train to Agra was scheduled for 6:15 the next morning, but when we carried our heavy backpacks to the station bright and early, we saw that it had been re-scheduled for 9:30. We decided to use this delay to our advantage and booked train tickets in advance from Agra to Varanasi. In India there is a separate booking office for foreigners and it's always a good idea to book as far in advance as possible, since trains fill up very quickly. An estimated 18 to 20 million people use the Indian railway system daily.
Since we booked a first class car, our trip to Agra was very very comfortable. We got a full Indian breakfast (including Corn Flakes served with warm milk...sounds kinda gross, but it was actually really good) and English newspaper with Delhi news. Once in Agra, we took a taxi to a recommended hotel and after some hard bargaining, found ourselves in a room with a direct view of the Taj Mahal. After a quick shower and lunch, we made our way towards the Taj on foot, since it was only about half a mile away. We had hardly stepped out of our hotel's gate when we were accosted by sales-people of every sort. "Hallo! Hallo! Come see my shop! I give you good price on sandals, hats, cold drinks, cold beer, tobacco, marble, hallo hallo!" The sales pitches were intense and unrelenting all the way to the Taj and severely tested our patience, but we made it! Even with the large crowds and afternoon heat, the Taj was still just as amazing as I had imagined. Truly a magnificent structure. The inside was nice, but I was distracted since we weren't allowed to wear shoes and the marble floor was HOT. I kept thinking back to the scenes in Slumdog Millionare and to prevent my shoes from getting stolen and sold on the streets, I just kept my flip flops in my back pack :) Not that this would've really happened...they had a guard and an organized cubby system.
The next morning we saw the sunrise from the roof of our hotel with the Taj again in plain view. We had been told that the best time to see the Taj was at sunrise where the quality of light makes the view most splendid, but sadly it was cloudy and hazy, so the view was just kinda amazing, not totally. I was able to create a nice sketch of the Taj while sipping delicious Indian coffee, but very soon after the sun rose it got a little too hot for comfort, so back to the comforts of the room I went. We were taken around Agra that day by a taxi and saw the Agra Fort, where Shah Jahan was imprisoned by his son for the last 8 years of his life. While this betrayal was a terrible one, the Shah did have a sweet view of his own creation out of his tower prison cell window. Upon exiting the Agra Fort we had to wait a few minutes on our driver, which left us wide open and vulnerable to all the beggars and sales-people waiting by the entrance. After almost 15 minutes of unrelenting persistence, I finally caved and bought a portable wooden chess set from a guy for 100 rupees (2 dollars). He started his offer at 1200 rupees, so as I said before, haggling is a good skill to have.
Then, our driver took us to see "the finest marble crafts in all of Agra." I had been warned that some drivers would take you to their friend's shops in hopes of collecting a percentage of whatever you buy. And in this case, our driver did indeed collect, because not only was this place air-conditioned (it was around 110 degrees that day), but the marble crafts in there were nothing short of astonishing. They had boxes, plates, tabletops, chess sets, carved animals, and many other objects all carved from the same white marble used on the Taj and imbedded with precious stones. Not your typical souvenier shop. I found a very beautiful gift for a very beautiful woman (sorry to spoil the surprise, Mom). After another delicious meal we were taken to another temple known as the Baby Taj, but decided not to go in and asked our driver to take us to Tundla, where our train would depart. We waited over 4 hours at the station, but this gave me time to sketch more and play a game of chess.
So some lessons and observations I've made on this trip so far include a fascinating look into Indian culture and the differences in everyday behaviour from our own culture. First off, Indian people stare. A lot. Even though I'm sure they're quite used to seeing foreign tourists, they still walk by you and stare the entire time, especially if you're female. If you're sitting down and eating in the same restaurant, rarely will you see them looking anywhere but in your direction. It's not any kind of rudeness, just an interest in the unfamiliar. Also, Indian men and woman both pick their noses openly in public without any attempt to hide it. They also spit a lot. However, any Indian person I've spoken to has been extremely polite and friendly. They almost always ask the exact same questions, those being "What is your country? How long you stay in India? and What is your profession?" They are also very curious to know what we think of India and are always extremely delighted with any positive response.

Coming up next: Varanasi, the Holy Ganges, and staying where the Beatles stayed!

Journey, Arrival and First Impressions

Greetings from Delhi, India!

So after traveling for 34 hours (which included a wonderful 15 hour layover in NYC with my brother and sister-in-law), we arrived in Delhi at 9PM last night and made it to our hotel via an extremely aggressive and honk-prone cab driver. The first thing I noticed when I left the airport was the air quality, which is comparable to standing near a bonfire or barbeque pit. The heat is very much there, but not as unbearable as I was led to believe. Even though the ride to the hotel was at night in the dark, I still saw many interesting things I wasn't used to seeing in the States, including a man and a woman on a scooter with an infant sandwiched in between them on the highway (no helmets on any of them), several men urinating openly on the road, and of course, cows peacefully roaming the narrow streets munching on random piles of garbage. The Delhi I have seen so far is extremely filthy and dusty, but full of character. After an uncomfortable few moments of the cab driver insisting on a tip (which was already paid through the hotel), we arrived to a very friendly hotel clerk assuring us that no matter what tip you give, the cab drivers will always want more. Our room is small and dirty with several little bugs sharing accomodations with us, but it has A/C, so it's all good. The plumbing hose was disconnected from the sink bottom, but I fixed it with the duct tape I brought, which quickly quieted the nagging voice in my head warning me of over-packing.
We rose early this morning to seek out food and cash, as I had arrived in Delhi with only $23 American in cash. Our hotel's street, appropriately named Main Bazar, was already swarming with residents and tourists alike, as well as cars, bikes, scooters, and auto-rickshaws, or three-wheeled taxis. The street is extremely narrow, so having cars and motorbikes pass inches from you is pretty common. There are many many shops selling clothing, food, electronics, musical instruments, and random Indian souveniers as well as street vendors selling fresh-squeezed juices and freshly-cooked Indian dishes. We ate a delicious and cheap breakfast (with a Coke made with real sugar, not that corn syrup crap) and then headed out to find an ATM. On our way we met a very friendly Indian man who took us on a very long walk to the ATM, and then to the tourist information office, which led us to believe he is employed by them and directs tourists there for commission. We got some great info on visiting nearby cities like Agra (home of the Taj Mahal) and Rishikesh and then decided to head back. At this point it was close to noon and the weather was getting pretty hot.The jeans I was wearing didn't help much. On our way back through Main Bazar I picked up some Indian pants and a shirt made from very thin cotton for a whopping 400 rupees, or about 8 bucks. Bargaining is an essential skill to have when buying from local shops and it was nice to get back in the practice. I was also pleasantly surprised to see many shop signs written in Hebrew, as India is a very popular spot for Israelis to visit. I have already heard several conversations in Hebrew, from both Israelis and Indians.
Tomorrow we will visit the popular spots in Delhi and get a greater overall feel for the city. I have yet to take one picture or create one sketch, so time's a-wastin'!

Thank you, come again!