Pune is the second largest city in Maharashtra, and provided me with a one night rest on the way North. I visited the Tribal Museum. Yes, there are tribes in India. In many rural areas, there are people with cultures distinctly different from the dominant Indian culture.
While wandering the back alleys of Pune, I came across a small ‘café’. The proprietor sat cross-legged on a little platform with his tea-making equipment surrounding him. I ordered spiced milk and watched as he leaned this way and that to make it. This simple activity was so artistic.
My next stop was Ahmadabad, where I visited the Patels again. While eating lunch, Mansi, the daughter and I discussed food. I said how much I liked her mother’s cooking. She told me that she really likes pizza, and suggested that we go to Pizza Hut. So, in proper tradition I had pizza on Super Bowl Sunday. Actually Pizza Hut is much better in India than in the U.S., at least for me. The entire menu was full of yummy vegetarian options. We had the ‘Spicy Indian’.
On Monday Mr. Patel drove me out to a ‘step well’ outside the city. The well is a large, subterranean structure. A large staircase leads down through columned levels to a well at the bottom. It was wonderfully cool down in the well, and despite being under ground, it felt very open and airy.
My night trip from Ahmadabad to Delhi was less than comfortable. The train was full, and I was on the RAC list (Reservation Against Cancellation). This means that you have to share a seat with another RAC person until something opens up. I sat up talking to my neighbor, a man from Rajasthan, about politics, religion and life. It was a great conversation, but ended around 11 P.M. Finally at around 2 A.M. a berth opened up. I was first on the list, but had traded seats with another RAC person so she could sit with her friend. The Train Conductor (TC) gave the berth to her. I chased the TC down and asked the name of the person who should get the berth. It was of course me, and he asked the woman to move. I felt a bit guilty, but only until I fell asleep.
I think I wrote about my first evening in Varkala, when I met a couple people playing guitar and singing songs. One of them was Parvez, a documentary filmmaker from Delhi. When I got back to Delhi this time, I gave him a ring, and he invited me over for dinner.
He lives close very close to Mark's apartment (where I stay in Delhi), so I hopped in an auto rickshaw, and was there in five minutes. We sat and chatted for about an hour, and then his cook broght dinner. After eating, we went down to Parvez' office and watched some of his videos.
His work deals mostly with causes, such as rights for the disabled, and feminist issues in India. I found his films inspiring, and powerful, blending strong visuals and his ear for music. In fact two of the films are music videos, in one of which he himself performs. It was nice to see some of the contemorary art being produced here -- something other than bollywood.
When I told him I was vegetarian, he said he would take me to have some of the best veggie food in Delhi. So, the next evening we drove out to a suburb (actually in Uttar Pradesh), to a little restaurant in a quiet neighborhood. It is the sort of place that you would never find as a tourist. The food was excellent, especially the roti (flat bread) which was hot and crispy.
On friday evening we met again for a meal at a dhaba close to his house. It is a paratha (stuffed flat bread) joint (more of a shack), with tables out front. When we arrived it was swarming with people eating hot parathas. Parvez fought his way through the crowd and returned with one egg and one potato paratha for each of us. Again I have to say that the best food in India is to be found at dhabas (little road side stalls).
I am sorry I haven't written in so long. The last two weeks have been a bit crazy. Sarah was scheduled to arrive on February 7th, and we had our plans all set. We were going to go to Pushkar and Udaipur in Rajasthan, and then head north to Amritsar, McLeod Ganj and Mussoorie. Our plans were changed due to problems with Sarah's visa.
Usually the Indian Consulate gives visas the same day they are applied for, but because Sarah was applying in Germany, and was not German they said they needed three business days. This, combined with problems getting seats on a later flight, meant that she ended up arriving a week late.
After the initial panic and disappointment wore off, I was left with a week with nothing planned. I was staying at my friend Mark's apartment in Delhi, but he had left town, so I decided to head up to Mussoorie and spend the time with people I knew. So I cancelled our Rajasthan trip, and booked a ticket for Dehradun. It was interesting retracing my steps after so much time in India. The last time I had taken the trip, I was still a bit dazed and confused. Now I knew my way around and felt confident.
Mussoorie was very cold, and I decided to stay at a hotel down in the town rather than up at Devdar Woods, which is 1000 feet higher (and where there was still snow on the ground). This made it easy to visit my friends, and take a Hindi lesson from one of my old teachers. I had a very quiet week, and then headed back to Delhi to meet Sarah.
On the morning Sarah arrived, I hired a taxi and headed to the airport. Sarah's re-routed trip brought her first to Mumbai, and then by Air India to Delhi. So, I directed the driver to the domestic airport. When we arrived there, I discovered that Air India lands at the international airport, so I jumped back in the taxi and we sped off. I still managed to make it to the airport a few minutes before Sarah's flight landed. I waited about fifteen minutes watching strangers wander past. Then she appeard in the crowd. It was such a relief to see her: after the disappointment the previous week, I wasn't letting myself believe that she was really coming.
We spent the next two days zipping around Delhi to see monuments and to do some shopping. I have to say that she held up much better than I did in my first two days in Delhi. We wandered the back streets of some of the busiest Bazaars in the city, ate at little roadside Dhabas, and got to know each other again.
More soon, I promise...
On Monday night Sarah and I packed up our stuff and headed to New Delhi Railway station to catch the "Golden Temple Express" train to Amritsar (scheduled to leave at 7:35). When we arrived, we discovered that it was delayed by 3:15 minutes. After going out for a chai, we found that the delay had increased to 4:30 minutes. We decided to go back to Mark's apartment to get away from the crowds of people, and loud announcements. We returned a bit after 11:00 P.M.
We sat on the platform with an older man who was waiting for his wife to arrive on the train. With him was his neighbor, who didn't want him to come to the station alone, since "Delhi is not safe at night". The man had just spent two months in Los Gatos, California, and we had a good talk. Actually he saw more of California in those two months, than I did in ten years.
We arrived in Amritsar at around noon on Tuesday, and took a room in a hotel near the old city. After stuffing ourselves with Naan at a Dhaba next door, we took a cycle-rickshaw to Jallianwala Bagh. From there we walked to the Golden Temple. Even though I knew what to expect, it was still as impressive as on my first visit. Sarah was struck by the clean gold and white marble which shone in the bright sunlight, and by the humility of the Sikh pilgrims coming to worship. Again we both felt welcomed.
From there we visited a chai stall I had gone to on my first visit. The Chaiwalla remembered me, and asked lots of questions about my trip. We were soon joined by a group of locals who listened in and discussed what Sarah and I said. After chai we wandered the narrow back alleys of Amritsar.
The next morning we headed to the train station. After taking langar (in this case tea and sweet toast) with the richshaw-wallas outside the station, we boarded our train to Pathankot. Sitting in our section were three travelling salesmen, with whom we chatted. At one point, one of them (an older Sikh man who sold auto parts) asked if we could sing. I said that Sarah could. After some encouragement she began to sing a Hind movie song ("Kuch Kuch Hota Hai"), and all three of the men joined in. Afterwards Sarah said to the same man, "you have a good voice, you should sing us a song." He first went to the end of the car to practice, and then came back and sang a song for us. Just a typical day with travelling salesmen.
Losar is the Tibetan New Near. Sarah and I came up to McLeod Ganj to be here for the celebration which started on Saturday. It seemed like a good idea at the time. However, almost all of the town is Tibetan-run, so the town has been all closed for most of our stay here. There is also not much peace and quiet, since firecrackers are constantly going off.
On Saturday morning we got up early and headed to the temple, for a Losar ceremony. The area around the temple was packed with Tibetans and tourists all trying to get a view of the ceremony through the temple windows. The Tibetans were all dressed in their finest clothes, while the tourists were mostly pretty scruffy. Everybody was in a festive mood.
Inside the temple, monks with large yellow hats chanted, their voiced being brought to the crowds over loudspeakers. Tea and sweet rice were served to those attending. After the monks were finished, a group of children sang and danced.
Later in the day, while Sarah rested in at the hotel, I went to visit my old neighbors. They had invited me over to celebrate with them. The stuffed me full of cookies and tea (salty butter tea and sweet milk tea). The decorations for Losar consisted of stacks of food offerings -- sweet cakes, fruit, butter, tea. They explained that in Tibet, the celebration lasts for fifteen days, but here in India they limit it to three. The first day is spent at the temple, while the second and third are spent visiting friends and family.
Last night I joined my friends Champa, Pema, Raj and Mark (the friends with whom I was in Kerala) for a small gathering on their balcony. The lit a fire, cooked food and served "Chang", home-made Tibetan barley beer. It tasted a bit like sake, but was not as strong. It was fun to see them again now at the end of my trip.