India Day 9.

We left Pushkar today and headed towards Udaipur. The land here is semi-arid and hilly, a lot like Kamloops area. It was a 5 hr drive, so I don't have a lot to report so I'll chat about some general bits of info.

I flew in on China Southern Airlines, and I was pretty impressed. It's been a long time since I was on an airline that not only provided free food, but also free pillows, blankets, earphones, hot towels and wine or beer....all for no charge. Remember those days Air Canada? The food was decent too.

Some type of beef in gravy, but more importantly was the really good cheesecake for desert.

I watched 5 movies since I couldn't sleep, but I did have an aisle seat so I was able to wander a lot. 

We landed in China at 2 AM to change planes, and we had to walk across the tarmac to get to the terminal, there were little patches of grass so I put a few tiny grains of my Miss Gypsy there. She is also in Machu Piccu and in the lovely grounds of the Taj Mahal. 

The second flight wasn't as good, but still better than Air Canada, plus at this point I was just ready to be off of a plane.

I got my henna on the second day, and I had forgotten what a mess fresh henna makes. I left a mess behind me in Mexico and I left a bigger mess here. Damn Canadians.

This was when it was fresh, so you can see it's almost 3D-ish. I had it done in the evening so that I could sleep and have it dry by morning. Well, of course it "sheds" as it dried and I was like a lizard leaving its skin behind....little bits were all over the bed in the morning. Looked like someone had tossed a bag of dirt in bed with me. And it was all over the bathroom floor as well, I was glad we left that hotel that morning. The cost of this was a whole 200 rupees, which is just less than $4. And it lasted almost two weeks, it actually got darker for a few days before it started to fade.

School is not compulsory here. The government is trying to make people realize the importance of education and they provide a free uniform for kids and free meals in order to encourage poor families to send their children, but many (too many) parents prefer their kids to "work" by selling trinkets and flowers on the streets. Some kids I spoke to had no desire to go to school at all, one little boy hopped on the bus as it was stopped, did a few magic tricks (he was really very good, had a great spiel and involved the passengers) and probably got 1000 or more rupees in tips, probably $25 or so. He said he would never go to school, he didn't want to,  because he could never make this much money anywhere else. He'd then hop off the bus, take a tuk-tuk back to where he hopped on, and wait for the next bus. They don't understand that what is cute at 10 yrs old, isn't cute at 30 or 40. You look at these kids, especially little girls, and wonder what their future is.

Some kids though, are desperate for an education, and many of them desire to travel. They're all interested in Canada and the snow, I had a bunch of photos of our recent snowmaggeden, and they were astounded and amazed. 

Love this picture! This little guy was in trouble for not doing his homework, so he was sitting on the temple steps copying his friend's workbook. Kids are kids, no matter where!

 We had two sisters on our bus who both spoke punjabi, as well as our guide, and another couple too, so we were able to ask lots of questions and get lots of answers. Plus, I learned how much work it is to unwrap, wash, and rewrap a turban!

This is Joe, and he was awesome! He and his wife are from Surrey, and were revisiting India. He spent a lot of time talking to young kids, they were fascinated by him because they could actually see how a person from India could succeed with an education, move to a new country and yet still retain their identity. Every time the bus stopped and kids were there, he'd be down on his knees, talking to them. When the trip first started, he and his wife were very quiet, but it didn't take long before he was dancing the aisles. 

Literally. Dancing in the aisles. This man has all sorts of good karma around him.

You see the swastika symbol all over the place here and as I'm sure you all know, the swastika was a symbol of good luck, prosperity, long life and many other postive meanings for thousands and thousands of years before one of the most dispised men in the world turned it into a symbol of hatred. (I did mention to some people that I met that they should google the artist Manwoman, so this is just a reminder to them) 

One of my favorite souvenirs is this tile that I bought in an incredibley smelly, dirty street. One of those streets that was so full of winding, narrow alleys that branched off into a warren, a literal maze. Honestly, if one lost sight of your companions for a moment, you could be gone forever. The crowds and noise and cows and dogs and children were totally overwhelming. I mean, those of you who know me, know how I get lost and turned around even in a hotel, never mind the slum streets of India. You're lucky I'm even here today.

The little elephant has a wee baby elephant inside of her, all carved from a solid piece of stone.

My roommate and I got along really well. We had never met prior to this trip, which is odd because she lived in Fernie for years, and knows a lot of Stevens family very well, she's lived here in Cranbrook for years too, and we have a lot of friends in common, Steven actually knows her husband quite well through hunting, yet her and I had never met. I think we got along so well because we are both prone to foolish adventures.

We were in one hotel room where the taps turned the opposite (to us) way for off and on. We arrived at the hotel, quickly washed our hands and ran out to check out the land. When we returned, we stood at the door and could hear a trickling, watery noise....we looked at each other in horror and struggled with the lock (oh my god, some of the hotel rooms had locks that were positively medieval) only to open the door and find water pouring all over the floor. Of course you just have to laugh and be thankful that the the floors were marble and not carpeted, and also that the room was on a bit of a slant so that the water didnt flow into the rest of the room.

The key for this monstrosity was as large as the padlock and we were only allowed one, which made for thoughtful decisions when we decided to do separate things. Do you lock and hope that the key-holder is back first? Or leave unlocked and hope no one burgles you? Or, odder yet, if one decides to go to bed while the other goes out, do you lock the door so that no one sneeks  in and robs the sleeper? Well, that makes sense, but then the sleeper is locked in and will perish in a fire should the place burn down. We just decided to hope for the best and leave it unlocked. There were three places like this. I became the key-holder since my roomie was an early-to-bed girl, and I was not. Too many stars to sit under, and warm breezes to enjoy. 

Another night went to have dinner, I had ordered a noodle-type dish and as we waited the waiter brought bread and two dishes; one with oil and one with balsamic. We were dipping our bread and we both thought the balsamic had an unusual taste, and the oil was thin. The waiter came over frequently to ask if everything was ok. We were almost annoyed at him as he hovered nervously. When they brought my noodles, he sadly asked me if I would like more soya sauce and vinegar for my dinner as he gestured at the now empty "balsamic" and "olive oil" dishes! Bahahahahahaha, we laughed so hard that my stomach hurt. Rednecks. Can't take us anywhere.

So by about now we have arrived in Udaipur and check in to yet another fabulous hotel. I think I'll talk about hotels next.

India Day 8.

I don't really know if this is Day 8, but I'll continue to number my blog entries sequentially just to keep things tidy.

After Jaipur (which was the Amber Fort, the elephant ride, the Jantar Mantar (fun to say!), the crazy rickshaw ride and the gem-cutting) we drove to Pushkar.....the home of The Pigeon Who Fell From the Sky.

The Pushkar resort was sooo fantastic. It was just soooooo fantastic. Oddly enough, it was built to provide accommodation for Kate Winslet, Harvey Keitel and the cast and crew of the 1999 movie Holy Smoke.

It's in the middle of nowhere, not within walking distance of the city of Pushkar at all, and it was like an oasis of peace and quiet. The rooms were either little individual cottages or duplexes, all covered with vines and bouganvillea. It's like a little village, winding paths that connect each cottage and they eventually wound their way to the reception area, the pool and the restaurant. 

My biggest complaint about the hotels is the fact that most of them just have a duvet. Sure, it's a fabulously fluffy feathery item, but it's too hot to sleep with, but when I cast it aside I'd get too cold. I had to rustle around like a hamster, trying to get it fluffed up and tucked to one side to stay at an even temperature. I'd have killed for a sheet. 

As in Europe, all the toilets had strange ways of flushing. This one was the most unusual, not only because the whole room was like of of those "magic eye" pictures where you have to squint to see the picture, but because you had to turn a knob to fill the toilet (each time) before you flushed it with another lever. Plus the shower had 4 knobs and a tub faucet, but no tub, and a thing that looked like an old fashioned well-pump in there also. Some knobs turned left for hot and some turned right for hot. Trying to have a shower was a dangerous procedure, shrieks of pain from scalding water and yells of shock from sudden blasts of cold water were frequently heard from all the rooms. 

The food was mostly organic and the grounds had huge gardens where they grew as much as they could, depending on the season. I really liked it here a lot, and would have loved to have stayed a few more days. 

The reception area, which has a billiard/games room and incredibly slow wi-fi on the top floor in the little lounge. 

Rosewater to drink. India either smells like roses or garbage. Very opposite scents.

A couple of us were told that the restaurant opened at 6, so we walked over and were told that it didnt actually open until 7, so we headed back to go for a swim. We ran into one of our travel companions who said she was told that it opened at 6:30 so we walked back with her to see what was what. A waiter was outside and said that it didn't really open until 7:30 (geeez) but we could go in for a drink. We went in and another waiter said the restaurant did open at 7, but not for us, but for a different group and we would have to come back at 7. What? That confused me, so I asked if we could just sit inside because the mosquitoes were bad outside and he said "yes, yes, come in and eat" So I'm not sure what was really happening, except maybe the waiters don't really know how to tell time. In any case, we went in and ate.

I have to tell you how horrible the coffee was IN ALL OF INDIA. I did not have one single good cup. It's really bitter and strong in a "left in the pot all day" strong, and while they do use hot milk, I'm pretty sure that it's skim milk. I was pretty sad about that. Occasionally you can find a good cappuchino, but not too often. Good thing that the food is incredible.

Next day we headed off to Udaipur.

India Day 7-ish.

I forgot that yesterday we went to a gem polishing demo, and of course we had to be herded into the gem shop right afterwards. I did not buy a gem.

Lets actually talk about the demos, which I may have already talked about, but oh well, you get to read it all again because my mind is still a bit fuzzy.

The tour companies make it sound like something really, really educational, but in reality we all know its just a way to get people to buy their wares. And the things they sell are incredibly marked up in price, the same items can be purchased in other shops for a fraction of the price, but, like a time-share salesman, or a snake-oil seller, they try to convince you that they have the best price and the only sure fire guarantee of a genuine object. But you know what? I didn't just fall off a turnip truck, nor was I born last night, so I take it all with a grain or ten of salt.

We saw a marble demo, teeny pieces of semi-precious stones and gems that were hand carved into incredibly intricate shapes and then inlaid into the matching carved out place in the marble. The brown that you see here is a henna, and is polished off afterwards so that the marble is pure white. 

Now, we saw them doing this by hand and I have no doubt that the workers have the capability of doing this, but the store room had stacks and stack and stacks of tables like this as well as larger tables and huge tables and huge, huge tables, and statues and little jewellery type boxes and big jewellery type boxes and chess sets and so many other items that it would take a lifetime to examine them all. The small tables were in stacks of 20 and I counted over 400 stacks, meaning at least 6000 items were there, and this was only one room and only tables! You cannot possibly expect anyone to believe that a small group of workers made all these items by hand. You know perfectly well that there are machines somewhere that help manufacture these. 

But, you play the game. The salesman hover and annoy and talk and talk and talk, but that's how they sell and people do get caught up in the excitement of the deal.

Below: one teeny corner of a huge warehouse kind of room.

So we saw the marble inlay demo, a gem cutting demo, a silk rug demo, a carpet weaving demo, a block printing (for textiles) demo, and probably one other that I've forgotten. Oh, it was silver jewellery. 

They dumped out piles and piles of silver on sheets throughout the room. It was sort of like being in Ali Baba's secret cave, all glittery and shiny. And did I mention that they give you free rum to drink? I guess a tipsy customer buys more. Or, a tipsy husband will "allow" his wife to buy more (more on women's rights later...) 

The salesman gave us the spiel about silver, and explained how the pile in the lower right was old silver, from families who had to sell the "family silver" due to economic issues. It was quite beautiful actually, slightly darkened and tarnished, and to me it was much lovelier than the "new" silver, just above it on the sheet, which was so shiny that it looked plastic. (It wasn't though, it was real) 

Anyhow, it was fairly expensive, but, as we were assured, it came with a certificate of authenticity (because no one could possibly ever make a phony one, says the cynic in me) 

But, to make a long story short, every day that we were on the bus, we stopped at a midway restaurant for lunch (not a chain, but the term for a restaurant between two cities) and there was always a shop attached where you could buy all manner of things....silks, teas, jewellery, snacks, plastic cruddy souvenirs, t-shirts, books, you name it, it was there, generally at semi-reasonable prices, and you could barter. I saw tables full of silver jewellery, identical, and I mean identical, to the lovely "family heirlooms" that were at the silver demo. Identical patterns and hallmark stamps, and at maybe 1/4 of the price.  A bracelet that I almost bought for $85 USD was only $22 USD....

But, as I say, it's all part of the game.

Walking on a silk carpet. The cashmere carpets were $46 USD a sq. foot, the camel was $48 and the silk was $139.  Beautiful, but nothing I'd care to own.

Lots of people bought lots of stuff, and what it all boils down to is if you're happy, then it's all good. I like to see sights, I like to touch things and I love to eat the food and "click the photo" and watch the people. My souvenirs are very minimal...my total expenditures were less than $200!

 

India Day 6 still...sorry for the delay.

Ok, so I need to get caught up on stuff, but it's more fun just to to prattle, but if I don't get stuff written down, I'll never remember what I actually did, so excuse the boring parts.

We arrived in India a day early, the original 7 of us, so our guide took us touring that day, a "bonus" bunch of sightseeing, so to speak. That was the Gandhi museum, making naan at the Sikh temple etc. 

And that's enough of that chatter. Back to the day of the elephant ride. After the ride we visited the City Palace and Jantar Mantar, which was pretty amazing. 

This is the technical explanation:

"The Jantar Mantar is an equinoctial sundial, consisting a gigantic triangular gnomon with the hypotenuse parallel to the Earth's axis. On either side of the gnomon is a quadrant of a circle, parallel to the plane of the equator. The instrument is intended to measure the time of day, correct to half a second and declination of the Sun and the other heavenly bodies."

Well, that's no fun. More fun is the fact that it was built in 1724 and keeps the time to the second. One can actually watch the shadow of the sun move. It's the correct time even today. There are five other astronomical "devices" here as well. 

After that, a few of us decided to take a rickshaw ride through the old city, holy cow, it felt like I was taking my very life in my hands. The traffic is horrendous enough when you're in a bus and have all that metal between you and the ground, but in a little rickshaw with traffic almost touching you, well, yikes! He careened around corners, and hollered out various bits of info...or maybe he was hollering to hang on, hard to say, in any case, I felt like I was on Mr Toads Wild Ride! It was a dusty experience if nothing else. Wind in my hair, Indian dirt in my teeth. 

Weaving thru the traffic.

We flew past the Palace of the Winds, lovely architecture until you realize that all these windows had sandstone "grills" on them so that the women could see some sunlight and blue sky, but could not really see the outside life, nor could they be seen. It's a tough life for women in India now, but it was far, far tougher back then, and they still have miles to go.

Our rickshaw driver, who may or may not have been trying to kill us with fear. At many points I was within a fingers reach of big trucks. An elbow misplaced may well have been deftly removed by a bumper or side-mirror.

My rickshaw partner almost lost her kneecap!

Anyhow, it was all fine and we moved on, except we didn't really move on at all. We got on the bus, but this happened:

It was a holiday of some sort, for Muslims, and after their visit to the mosque, they were leaving by the thousands (literally thousands) and they wanted to be able to walk down the street unimpeded by other pedestrians, traffic and even police. They refused to move, and they refused to let our bus through. They even took over the small "hut" that the police used to direct traffic. It was an interesting experience, that's for sure. They all looked rather angry, but I wasn't concerned about our safety at all. I think they were just trying assert themselves, but I wouldn't have left the bus, that's for sure.

Anyhow, it was all good and we drove to our hotel, which was a fabulous respite after the somewhat hectic day of dust and heat and protesting, angry men with sticks.

The hotels all met us with hot towels, red dye for the bindi mark on the forehead and a blessing. The red dye they use for the bindi dots is something thick and oozy, and we all walked around looking like we had taken a bullet to the forehead. It was hard to remove too, so all the hotel facecloths looked like they had cleaned up a crime scene.

Also, each hotel greeted us with a non-alcoholic drink, which I know many hotels do, I'm not a total novice in a hotel, but these were all interesting drinks. One was a hot drink with ginger, cardamom, honey, lemon and maybe cinnamon, one was rose-water...mmmmm, lovely and pink and tasted like roses, one was a sickly-sweet mint which was brilliant green, so no doubt it was filled with some type of food colouring, and one was warm coke, which struck me as odd, and others were masala tea. 

Rose water.

So after we checked into the hotel we had to go to a gem cutting demo. I hate that kind of thing  because I have no intention of buying anything at the shop they herd you into after the demo, but there is nowhere else to go...these shops are invariably in an area with nothing nearby. To me it's a waste of an hour or two, and a reason why I wouldn't go on another organized tour....any kind of shopping is not my thing, and "forced" shopping is even less my thing.  I'll admit that the actual demos are interesting though, and I really did enjoy them. 

Anyhow, that was the end of that day, and in "real life" I'm home now, so I can take some time to go thru my photos and write up the rest of the story in more interesting (hopefully not boring) detail.

India. More Day 6.

So we left Agra and headed towards Jaipur. We first stop at a small city just west of Agra called Fatehpur Skiri, which is a Unesco World Heritage Site. At this point I'm still enthralled with mosques, forts and temples, however within a few days I'll be templed out. 

Everything in this area is made of red sandstone.

We arrive in Jaipur and are at one of the Trident Hotels and I will now discuss the way the staff tries so hard to please. First of all is the Indian "head-waggle", by which I mean no disrespect. It's like in Greece where an up & down nod means no, and the side to side means yes. Opposite of us. Although here, some Indians do it "our way" so as not to confuse the tourists and others do it "their" way because, well, it's their way. This of course leads to all sorts of confusion and hilarity. (To me, anyhow)

As well as this, most of the staff will say anything to be agreeable. Example. One lady was feeling ill and just wanted clear broth and cold water.

Her: Do you have a clear broth? Maybe chicken?

Waiter: Yes, ma'am, we have.

Her: chicken broth?

Waiter: Yes, ma'am, mushroom soup.

Her: No, no, I want clear....no cream, no milk.

Waiter: yes ma'am, we have tomato soup.

Her: No. Clear...(gestures to her water) No milk...(and she gestures to the cream on the table)

Waiter: Oh! Yes ma'am. Room temperature?

Her: No. Hot please.

So he brings her a cup of hot water.

Later. 

Me: Is the name of this desert The Sam?

Guy: No, this is The Tahr.

Me: Oh, the highway sign said The Sam Desert, is that a different one?

Guy: Yes, yes, this is called The Sam if you like. But it is The Tahr.

Me: So it has two names?

Guy: No, it has a different name, not Sam or Tahr. 

Me: ok.

Later.

Waiter: yes ma'am, chai?

Me: No thank you, cappuccino?

Waiter: Ok madam...just some hot chai?

Waiter: With more sugar?

Me: no chai, just cappuccino please (as I point to Cappuchino on the menu.

Waiter: Yes, ok.

And brings me chai. 

You just gotta go along with it and drink your chai.

Anyhow, in the morning of our first day in Jaipur, which is called The Pink City, we visited the Amer Fort. It's high on a hill and we rode an elephant up. I was really, really undecided as to whether or not to do this. The whole elephant treatment issue is so controversial. I hate zoos and circuses aquariums and swimming with dolphins...all of it sickens me, the using of animals for our amusement. I didn't want to be a hypocrite and I know that elephants are one of the most mistreated animals in Asia so I did some intense research, including getting ahold of the company who put together this tour, as well as local animal rights groups (and oddly enough, there was one in Jaipur)

So these elephants are considered rescues, but they have worked for this company for quite a few years. They work 4 hours a day, carrying two tourists up the hill (it's about a 20 minute ride) They are not allowed to carry tourists down the hill, apparently it's too hard on their knees/legs.

After their 4 hours, they have an area to go where they are fed, watered and rest. Our fellow told us that they are well cared for because it's their (the owner/driver) livelihood and an angry, sick elephant isn't going to go over well with tourists. I checked out their feet and ankles, one website I read told some ways to check for an abused elephant. So, I was satisfied and "Remember" our driver said "in North America you use horses for work and to ride for pleasure and for tourists"  I though "touché, you are right."

So I went on an elephant, she was 40 yrs old and her name was Madonna. When the driver called her name, she curled her trunk up and touched his cheek.

 At the top.

And that was that. My first and only elephant ride. It was fun, but I still had a bit of guilt.

India Day 6

So, I'm not going to go into detail about the various forts and temples we've seen. I find that kind of thing to be not very interesting if you haven't actually been there and there's nothing super-fabulous about the place. Instead, here's some things that I find interesting.

The street signs in Delhi are in 4 languages; Hindi, English, Punjabi and Urdu.

"Eve Teasing" signs are everywhere, particularly since the recent spate of rapes. The government and various other woman's rights groups are trying to get the message across that all women are to be treated fairly. All women are "Eve"....you wouldn't want your mother, sister, aunt, wife, or daughter to be sexually harassed, so don't do it to any woman. There are special help-lines now, similar to a 911, that women can call, and specials phone booths with locking doors and direct phone lines to the police that a woman can lock themselves in if they feel threatened. There are pink tuk-tuks (the little local taxis) that are for women only. India is trying to rid itself of the stigma of such horrendous women's rights.

Can you read #11? A woman who enters the temple while she is menstruating defiles the temple.

The trucks here are fabulous! The guys who drive them are generally away from home for long periods of time, so they decorate their vehicles to be "cozy". I love that the men enjoy the vivid colours. It's right up my alley....the glitter and glitz. 

No one pays attention to stop signs or traffic lights, so you pass whenever you want to, but you honk the horn in a polite little staccato  as you pass...often on the wrong side of the highway. Our bus driver drove the wrong way on the highway rather frequently, as did other drivers. It's quite horrifying! And I don't mean that they drive on the left instead of the right (opposite to North America), I mean thatthey actually drive facing the oncoming traffic now and then, in order to get to where they want to go.

So, just so I keep my journal in order, I'll mention what we did on day 6, except I can't really remember what we did without my notes in front of me. (I'm on the bus) I know we left Agra and drove to Jaipur. We had spent two nights in Agra at a hotel from the Trident chain, and in Jaipur we also spent two nights at a Trident hotel, and let me tell you, these two hotels are unbelievable. Extremely over-the-top as far as luxury goes, although maybe they seem that way because you leave the incredible filth and squalor and poverty and go through the gates of grounds and it's an entirely different world. Greeted with a blessing, hot scented towels, rose water, mint tea and snacks. Probably more food and cleanliness in one literal minute than some of these people see in a day, or more. Example, one day we saw a woman running her hands through the streams of raw sewage (human as well as dog and cow) looking for coins or silver that people may have dropped in it. The sewage runs down the narrow streets in little trenches and the smell is enough to make you gag, and this lady was sifting through it with her bare hands.

Oh oh losing Internet....gotta run!

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.