Cows.

So lets talk about cows. As I'm sure you all know, cows are sacred in India. Like really sacred. Beef is banned in all of India, which I actually didn't realize. I know that McDonald's has no beef, and most restaurants don't, but I didn't know that it's actually illegal. I figured tourist resorts would maybe have beef on their menu, but nope. Nowhere. Our guide is Hindu and firmly believes that no one should eat beef. As a matter of fact, a fellow in Delhi had some smuggled beef in his fridge last year, and not only was his house broken into, he was killed. Killed.  And that was just last year...and not in a small village. 

If a Hindu accidentally kills a cow, it is the worst thing that can ever happen to him. The. Worst. He will never get over it, and there are all sorts of ceremonies and whatnot that he must perform in order to help clear his soul. It is literally worse for them than killing another human being.

Why, you ask? "To the Hindu, the cow represents all other creatures. Hindus believe that all living creatures are sacred—mammals, fishes, birds. The cow is more, a symbol of the Earth. It always gives and feeds, representing life and the support of life."

So, whatever. It's a nice idea actually. But it's a bit extreme. The cows are everywhere. In every town, city and village. They do indeed stop traffic and make a nuisance of themselves. They're not overly healthy and they shit all over. Although, the dung is dried and used as fuel, so that's a plus. They're not aggressive, so that's a plus too. Everyone takes care of them, which isn't really a plus because there are starving people all over, yet cows are tended to and fed before many people are. I don't get that. 

The thing is, the cows eat garbage, drink heavily polluted water, don't really have a home and are filled with parasites. They can't possibly be enjoying their lives. We need a "Vets Without Borders" to come and castrate them and thus bring an end to the filth and the misery. 

Granted, some cows are healthy and fine, but too many are not. Here is some cow pictures to let you see what it's like.

Taj Mahal cow, hanging outside the monument.

Hanging out on a Ledge cow.

Contemplating Temple cow.

Cow with Pink Shoe Necklace.

Waiting for the Shop to Open cow.

Striding confidently down the street cow.

Going to market cow.

Wrong way down the road cow.

Pretending to be a pigeon cow.

Living in an upscale areas cow.

Going to a new home cow.

Gang of highway cows, planning a heist? Traffic stopped for a long time.

I jest, but it's a serious problem.

India- still day 5, but at the Taj Mahal.

Leaving Delhi to get to  Agra took forever, oh my god the traffic was eye-popping...the honking and noise and craziness, but oddly enough no road rage. I guess if you live in a city this congested, you learn to adjust and cope with it. There were some pretty unusual sights to see.

Children selling fresh roses are everywhere. Smart little girls, as soon as they see a camera they hide their faces, they will only let you take their picture if you buy a rose. Kind of hard to buy something when the bus windows don't open. (Yeah, yeah, I know I just finished saying I hate taking pictures from a bus window, but I didn't say I didn't do it, just that I hate it. Insert sheepish grin)

This is a  tobacco shop, note the huge grin on the face of the fellow on the right, they want their picture taken, and happily pose for free.

The buildings seem a tad wonky, perhaps that is why this one wasn't finished?

Not sure what this is, but I didn't want to get "scaned" so I stayed on the other side of the road.

Finally we arrived at the Taj Mahal. It was quite extraordinary to see, although it's not anywhere that I have always yearned to visit, so it wasn't overwhelming or emotional for me. I felt like I was trudging along, sort of  like this:

I was sort of surprised at how many monkeys were on the grounds. This fellow just looks exhausted.

It was crowded, but not as jam-packed as I had expected, funny thing though, you know how we like to take pictures of other foreign people  in the clothes of their culture? Well, I've never seen so many people who think that we are the exotic ones and want to have their picture taken with us! Even in Africa I didn't find this. If we sat for a rest, there were literally families and families who wanted us to hold their children, or sit by their wives and have our picture taken with them. It was very strange.

Sometimes it was really hard to get away. 

This little one wanted to show us her pretty shoes. She was too afraid to actually sit with us though.

After the Taj Mahal we had to go to a marble cutting/inlay/polishing demonstration and then of course they herd you into their shop to purchase. Their shop is, of course, the best and the cheapest in all of India. I'll say, the art of cutting the gemstones and doing the inlay into marble was pretty amazing, but they insisted that everything was totally handmade by the small group of men in the family business. So. There were well over 8,000 pieces in the store, from huge tables to small trinkets, but there is no earthy way that all these items are hand made. A normal plate-size item takes about a week. They obviously have a machine of some sort somewhere. I did not fall off the proverbial turnip truck. 

Anyhow, I'm just not interested in writing about the Taj Mahal, don't get me wrong, it was incredibly beautiful and the story behind it is a touching love story, but at the end of the day, it's still just another monument to me. I know some people practically make it a pilgrimage to see it, so to each their own.

On to better stories and pictures!

India Day 5...the rest of.

So the hawkers and touts at the India Palace were enough to drive a person insane. They are in your face constantly and simply will not take no for an answer. It tends to makes one be very rude, which I'm not normally, but I got good at it pretty quickly. 

We then drove by the Presidential Palace, people are not allowed to stop there, so we drove by twice in order to be able to "click the photo." I did not "click the photo" as I do not give a rat's ass as to where the president lives, plus I hate taking pictures out of bus windows. I'm not sure why, but I just

do. One of my many quirks.

Next stop was the Qutub Minar, and I did "click the photo" there, and you may "view the photo" here:

And here: (as a plane passes over...old and new)

It's the worlds tallest rubble masonry red sandstone minaret at 273 ft tall, 45 feet wide at the bottom, and about 8 feet at the top. It's incredibly intricate with each of the different levels being carved in different styles. Pretty impressive considering it was built in 1192. There were also other buildings there, old temples and whatnot and I won't bore you with a history lesson (mostly because I didn't pay really close attention, I was too busy sweltering in the heat and trying to keep the sweat from running into my eyes) but suffice it to say, they were very beautiful.

Then we got back on the bus and headed to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal.

India Day 5

This morning we were out of the hotel by 8:30 and off to do a bit of sightseeing in Delhi. The weather is invariably warm and muggy and the smog is intense. I was thinking that something was wrong with with either my camera or my camera card because the pictures are all a little "faded", this morning scene is not  rays of sunshine as the sun rises to beautify another day....it's rays of smog. 

Anyhow, what do you do? Breath deep, hope for the best and carry on. 

We went to the Jama Masjid mosque this morning, the largest in India. Its marble and red sandstone and holds 25,000 people. It is to Muslims what Jerusalem is to Christians. We had to make sure we had no food or gum, and they supplied us with gowns to cover shoulders and legs, both men and women, and they were very strict about it. One fellow had super long legs and they were in quite a dither trying to find a gown long enough to hide his hideous, white. North American calves!

Below, prayer mats being laid out

In this picture, notice the women in long gowns, they are other tourists in the gowns they supplied, we had to have all our skin covered. The men were washing face, hands and feet in preparation of prayer. I highly enjoyed the experience as I doubt I'll ever get the chance to go into a Muslim mosque again.

Me outside the mosque overlooking part of Old Delhi.

Next we went to the Raj Ghat, which is Gandhi's cremation place. It was a nice garden and memorial, but what is most memorable are the bathrooms.....filthiest I have ever seen, and I've travelled to some pretty dicey places. It was also very smoggy. Poor Gandhi, he would be so disappointed. 

Then we moved onwards to the India Gate, the traffic here is unbelievable, and I mean really unbelievable. Bumper-to-bumper means literally that.

The do, however, have what I assume to be a high-tech hydro electric system. I say this because I've never quite seen a system like this, it includes monkeys running across and over they wires, screeching and pooping as they run. This is where we outsource?

Old Delhi was pretty amazing. The streets are a winding maze of confusion, and if one wandered off, chances are good one would never be seen again. 

Headed off to the India Gate next, a monument similar to others in almost every country, an eternal flame and a memorial to soldiers who died in war. It was huge and impressive, but not my kind of sightseeing. There were a lot of soldier there though, it's a place prone to protests.

I'll finish the rest of day 5 shortly....gotta run! The pool is calling.

Holy!

 I wanted to tell my story in an orderly manner, and while I've only written up to Day 4 and we're actually on Day Something Else Maybe Nine, I have to interrupt my train of thought to tell you this story. You have to read this to the end, please, even though parts of it refer to religion. And you have to know how the Hindu people respect all animals and will never hurt one deliberately, all life is sacred to them, and they feed and care for all of them...pigeons and birds always have seeds, cows have hay, dogs are fed and they all live harmoniously together. That's important to this story.

We are in Pushkar right now, which you may have seen on various travel shows as a very famous place known for the camel fair, where camel traders come from around India to buy and sell camels. It also has one of the holiest temples in all of India and you can go to the ghat there and partake in a blessing ceremony. 

A ghat is a holy place near a lake or river where a Brahmin (type of holy man) will bless you in a ceremony that includes also blessing your family and friends; past, present and yet unborn. It's a very serious ceremony, no shoes, no skirts for women, no bare arms or legs and certainly no cameras or cell phones. Husbands must sit to the right of their wives and everyone cups their hands as the Brahmin pours fresh rose petals which signify (and you are warned to not smell them under any circumstances, it's apparently very insulting)  then some rice, which signifies prosperity,then sugar which signifies a sweet life, then red powder which signifies family and future family, and finally turmeric which signifies the ones you love who have died.  As he adds each one, he prays and blesses you, and then he has us repeat a series of prayers in Hindi. At the conclusion of this, he puts a smear of the mixture on our foreheads and we then think of everyone we want to be blessed and then we are to go to the lake and toss our petal mixture into the water whilst wishing for good karma for all our loved ones.

Above picture is the ghat, steps leading down to the water.

Below picture is the temple, and also some of the pigeons in flight. Keep reading to understand the importance of the pigeons! 😳

So we walk down the steps to the water and I hear this sort of hollow "thunk" and a freaking pigeon falls from the sky and lands at my feet. He's flown straight into the pole beside me. He tries to lift his head and I see blood all over, and his wing is broken. What the hell kind of message is this?!  I'm standing there, kind of shocked and sad and a bit panicked, and a stray dog runs right over; grabs the bird and rips it in half and runs away! Imagine all this happening in a split second, at this holiest of holy ceremonies. And the Brahmin's robe opens up as he runs over and he's wearing a t-shirt that says "Venice Beach, California." Seriously, what the hell? All that's left at this point is a few feathers and I'm wondering if I hallucinated the whole thing. Then I thought I was going to burst into hysterical giggles, because I look at everyone else and they're standing there, mouths ajar and eyes wide and bugging out and some of them have grains of rice stuck to their forehead from the Brahmins blessing and it looks ridiculous and also sort of like maggots. It was probably one of the strangest experiences of my life. 

So that's India for you, always expect the unexpected. 

I will be back on track tomorrow since its a complete day off at this fantastic resort and speedy wifi. 

Until then....namaste! 

Day 4 continued in India.

To continue Day 4, after we visited Gandhi's place, we went to a Sikh temple, but before we could enter we had to remove our shoes and socks, and  cover our heads with a supplied blue and yellow scarf, both men and women. The temple itself seemed clean enough, but the small room where we had to leave our shoes wasn't the cleanest, and the short walk to the temple was, uh, revolting. It was only 50 or 60 steps, but they were not fun steps, New Delhi is not a clean city by any stretch of the imagination. The temple was beautiful, very ornate, lots of gold and other adornments. I felt a little odd walking through a Tempe while people were inside praying, but then I realized that it's no different than walking through any church in Europe while people are inside.

Now, attached to the temple is a huge establishment that is similar to a soup kitchen at home  except anyone can eat there...rich, middle class, poor, homeless and any faith is welcome. Obviously it is utilized mostly by the poor and homeless. They sit outside by the hundreds and wait their turn while the people inside have their meal. 

All the food is donated and all the labour is volunteer. It's an incredibly massive operation. The kitchen and eating area would never pass inspection in North American, but things are different here. Really different. Remind me to tell you about cows later. I know you know that cows are sacred here, but it's a whole different level than what I realized.

Anyhow, as we were watching the food prep I was asked if I wanted to help make some naan bread, and of course I wasn't going to miss this! The balls of bread were flung at me almost faster than I could roll them out, but its not a complicated procedure, and before long I was rolling with the best of them, sitting on the floor with bare feet, flour flying everywhere.

This is half the room of people eating.

The naan making area.

Food prep, shelling peas and dicing potatoes today.

Gargantuan containers of rice. The smaller ones are 5 gallon pails.

The reason it's all free is for two reasons, one is it creates work (not for pay, but "busy work" to keep people occupied) and two being it brings you good karma.

Oh honest to gods, I just can't seem to get anything written, but if I don't do it now I'll never rememeber the order of things, so excuse the disorder of my mind.

We then went for lunch where I had paneer sharmi and naan, then went and found a money changer and probably got totally ripped off, but when you need money, you need money. Headed back to the hotel to sit by the pool for a while and then try to repack my suitcase which has expanded greatly and I haven't bought a single thing yet. How does that happen? All I've done is switched my sneakers that I wore down here with my sandals. Jeez. Time to start tossing stuff and leaving things behind already? 

Anyhow, here's some photos to amuse you.

Ate here:

Ate this:

Sat around this:

Yearned for some of these:

Felt rich owning 18,000 of these:

India Day 4

So I'll call it Day 4, but I'm not sure. Close enough.

We are at The Metropolitan Hotel in New Delhi. It's very nice, nothing overly-special, but it has a really good breakfast buffet. I love foreign hotels that cater to tourists because the buffets are so varied...one can have anything for breakfast; from oatmeal to mutton to curried veg and fish. I don't want to get Delhi-Belly just yet, so I ate sparingly (well, obviously I don't want to get Dehli-Belly ever, but I believe it's inevitable. I'm not sure I'll be here long enough to build a good tolerance to street food. So I stick to yogurts, cheese, fresh fruit and toast. For now.

When I woke up about the first day and looked out my window, I thought it seemed sort of misty/foggy out there,  much like Vancouver and other coastal cities and I assumed it would burn off by noon. Well, as you may have guessed, it burns off never as it's smog and pollution from this city of 16 million. Million. That's like half the population of Canada in one city.

This is the view from my room. Looks ethereal until you realize it's smog and never goes away. It smells like burning garbage. I remember a Russell Peters routine where he said that everyone needs to go to India once, and "when your plane lands and you get out....stretch and breath deep, if it doesn't smell like shit, well, you're not in India."  I'm not gonna say it smells that bad, but it does smell.

The city is like everyone says....it's so loud, the constant cacophony of vehicle horns just drills its way into your head...the noise never stops. The traffic is bumper to bumper at all times, and I literally mean bumper to bumper. There is no rhyme nor reason to the streets. It's quite terrifying. But you know, there is also no road rage or anger.

The trucks are decorated in intricate designs, and have signs painted on the back to "please blow horn" so that they know you're behind/beside them, as a polite warning. I don't know how that works  since the sound of horns never, ever stops, so how a driver distinguishes between someone honking at him as opposed to the other 8 million drivers is a mystery to me. But I guess it works, although not too well because I have yet to see a vehicle without dozens of door-dings.

There are three major religious groups in India. Hindu, Sikh and Muslim. That makes up 86% of India. The other religions make up 12% and Christianity is 2%. Only 2%. We visited temples/mosques of all three.

First we saw a Hindu temple. Pictures were not allowed inside, but the outside looked like this:

It's the Birla Hindu Temple, built in 1939 and covers 7 acres. It was inaugurated by Gandhi, he would only inaugurate it if all castes and religions were allowed in. A priest blessed us by putting a tilak or bindi (the red smudge) on our foreheads.

Notice how the shape of the domes are elongated. That means a Hindu temple. Round ones are Muslim.  See? You can learn things by reading my blog.

We next went to Gandhi's place of assassination, which I did not think was going to be interesting in the least, and I was so wrong. First of all, the minute you get off of the bus, the sounds of the city are enough to drive you a bit insane, and then the minute you step past the walls surrounding his home, into the gardens, it's like night and day. It's instantly cool, quite, serene, the birds are chirping, the temperature goes from a muggy, sticky 25C to something sweeter and enjoyable. It's quite amazing.

The life of Gandhi is fascinating. I won't bore you with a history lesson right now, although I'll bet you wouldn't actually be bored.  What an incredible man.  Every morning he'd walk the same path in the garden and contemplate and pray. The foot prints here are where he walked the last day of his life before he was assassinated in the spot where you see the small column.

There also a museum here of his life, which also surprised me. It was FABULOUS. You should go there! Really! It had room after room after room, each filled with the most incredible interactive displays.  Some were like magic or like something from a Harry Potter movie, seriously! Writings that would appear on walls and the floor, as if an invisible person was holding a giant quill and was writing thoughts and quotes of Gandhi's, giant chess sets that would shine quotes on the walls as you moved  the pieces,  a huge harp in the whimsical shape of Gandhi that made picture appear as you plucked the strings and more and more in every room.  It was all free, and filled with docents who were more than eager to show you how it all worked.

There were a lot of school kids there that day, all dressed in their uniforms and oozing politeness. They all wanted to show us how well they could converse in English (which was really quite good) and we joined them in a really fun display, which was teaching us how powerful unity can be. One person put their hand on a brass (brass? I'm not actually sure, is brass a conductor?) plate on the floor and everyone else held hands and the last person put their hand on another brass plate. As we held hands,  purple lights lit up the column higher and higher the longer we held hands. The minute one person let go, the lights went out. I mean, I know it's simple science, but it was still a teachable moment. 

After our lessons we all went out for a class photo, and then we went on our way. It was a really fun time!

I would write some more, but at this moment I'm beyond exhausted. The heat is that sticky kind of heat and it just sucks the life right out of me and my mind won't work and I need to check my grammar before I hit the "publish" key, because there is never an excuse for poor grammar, but I fear that saying that may come to bite me in the ass today. 

Day 2-ish...maybe Day 3 too?

Day 2.  So Day 2 was mostly spent in the air.  The plane left at 11:40 and because my Dad drilled it into me that it's always "better to be early than late" (I used to piss him off by retorting "yes, but better to be late than never." I caught an early shuttle and was at the airport in enough time to stand in the endless lines, so of course there were no endless lines. We were through check-in and security in less than 45 minutes.  Killed a bit of time by taking some touristy pictures in the airport, which was decorated for Chinese New Years, lots of colour!

The first plane ride was surprisingly comfortable. The airline was China Southern and I gotta say, it was a pleasant departure from Air Canada. Seats were roomy, the flight attendants were constantly up and down the aisle with hot tea, cold drinks including beer and wine....no charge (I didn't partake as I am an extreme light-weight drinker and don't day-drink at all) and hot lemony towels to wash away the stress of all that free wine. The dinner was really good. Honestly, it really was! The meat was chicken, and it was genuine boneless thighs, none of that "chopped, formed and frozen" nugget crap. And the desert was cheesecake! Yay! 

Also free were pillows, blankets and headphones....try and find those on Air Canada these days.

The movie selection was good too. I watched five. And for those who care to know, they were:

-Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (fabulous, but only if you've read the book)

-the new Jack Reacher (horrible, especially if you've read the books)

-Keeping Up With the Jonses (meh...basically a Mr and Mrs Smith)

-The Masterminds (probably bad, but funny anyhow because of Zack Gallifinakis)

-The Accountant (I thought it was good.)

I managed to watch all 5 because it was a 13 hour flight. Ugh to that. We landed in Guangzhou, China and changed planes for the final 6 hour jaunt. Big ugh to that. 

However, we did land on the tarmac in China and had to walk a bit to get inside, so at least we got some fresh air and a good stretch.  The second flight wasn't as good as the first, still on China Southern but the plane was not quite as roomy, the food not quite as good (it was actually inedible) and by this time everyone is tired and just wanting a full size bed. 

Possibly the closest I'll get to China, and maybe Ethiopia as well!

The reason I was so confused about the days and time is because we flew about 19-20 hours, but we crossed the international dateline, so we either gained a day or lost a day, no one knew for sure, plus there was a 13.5 hour time change, plus the route we took followed the sun so there was no nightfall for my circadian rhythm to adjust, and my poor brain had no idea what time it was. All I know is I got on a plane at noon on the 14th, and 20 hours later it was 1:00 AM on the 16th. I don't know where the 15th went and I'm too confused to care.

We landed in smoggy New Delhi on time (not sure on who's time, exactly) and we had to go straight to the tourist visa counter and show our e-visas and also do a retinal scan and be fingerprinted on a biometric thing. Very odd. My eyeball photos are now in a foreign database somewhere. So much for my career as an international spy. Anyhow, our visas were processed and our passports were stamped so we got our luggage (yay! Not lost!) and went to immigration. The line ups were unusual, one said "for nationals" and one said "red card line". Then there was an open hall with a guard standing there looking very lackadaisical and bored. We walked over to ask him what a red card line was since we didnt have a red card, and he just waved us through before we could even speak and pointed to the rest of the airport. So, no customs and immigration for us.

We found the fellow holding the sign for our group and he called a bus for us, and off we went through the insane traffic of New Delhi in the dark hours of the night. Kinda surprised I'm still alive after that harrowing ride. 

We arrived at the hotel at about 1AM and the only good thing about the lack of sleep and weird time changes is the fact that I can go to sleep now, get 7 hours and wake up with my body adjusted properly and on time. No jet lag!

India. Day 1.

Yikes! After months of waiting and planning, here I am!  Well, by "here" I don't mean I'm in India quite yet, I'm in a Vancouver hotel. The flight leaves tomorrow morning, and not until almost noon which is so incredibly fantastic. No ungodly early rising. Nothing starts a holiday off worse (for me) than getting up at 4 or 5 AM.  I haven't seen a sunrise for about 3 years now. Seen one, seen 'em all.

So anyhow, some blog info. I've kept a blog for lots of years, but generally just for myself, like an online journal, and then I shared it with a few friends and family. So if you're new here, look around and I hope you stay awhile. 

I am a bit of a grammar freak, and I do try to double check my punctuation and spelling, however I don't understand commas at all, I use them far too often, and I think I use them in all the wrong places as well, so please excuse the plethora of them. I use commas like I talk, which is with lots of pauses.

I write like I talk, which is a bit disjointed with lots of side-stories.

I start too many sentences with "so" and "anyhow", and sometimes even "So, anyhow"...a double annoyance, but, again, that's how I talk. So if you're ok with all of that, hang around and read my stories.

Here's the first one. 

I'm traveling to India sort of solo. There are 7 other people from Cranbrook, maybe 9, who will be on the same flights and the same hotels and we will have the same guide. We won't always be doing the same things, so it's sort of solo, sort of not.  

I don't want to be the kind of person who writes like they're an inspirational meme, everything all rosy and wonderful as I travel through far away countries. You know the kind I mean. Every picture is captured "seeing the real part of the country" and "not a tourist!" or an artfully positioned selfie; hair blowing in the wind, or yoga pictures on the beach....you know what I mean. But sometimes I do get a bit passionate about what I'm seeing, so excuse any spewing of prose that might flow from my fingertips. 

I had my hair cut the other day (this ties into my story, so be patient). It's short, and blunt and swings when I walk. It still has some pinks and purples in it, and my bangs are sort of edgy.  I actually get a lot of compliments from total strangers. (Thank you Heather!)  So, I'm striding through the hotel restaurant here, well, striding as best I can with my stubby little legs, and a woman leans over and gently says "Excuse me...". and you know, because I'm a strong, independent, travelin' woman with an edgy haircut, striding through a hotel on my way to India, I turn and say "Yes?", fully expecting a compliment of some sort. She leans and whispers "You have toilet paper on your shoe".

Ewwwwww. Oh my god. How embarrassing. What does one do? Does one scuff it off and kick it under a table and run away? Does one pick it up and hold it arms length away from one's body as one runs away? Does one pick it up and scrumple it into their hand as one runs away?  Or does one just say "oh, thank-you" in a small voice as one scurries around the corner to remove it discreetly?  You decide. I'm not even going to tell you which one I chose.

Anyhow, I will try to not write about the next few weeks in a pretentious and arrogant way. If I do, please excuse me, because remember, at the end of the day, I'm just a chick with toilet paper on her shoe. 

Pronunciation concerns.