Bad Food and Good Sex

After one night of sleep in a hotel and a rainy farewell day to Pahar Ganj, we were back on our night train schedule. This time our destination was Khajuraho, home to a grouping of well-preserved temples famous for their erotic carvings.

We got into the station early, around 8:00, and we took an autorickshaw through the fields into town. Town consisted of one main street, which was still asleep when we arrived save for the hotels. With backpacks on and reservations unmade, we wandered from hotel to hotel inquiring about prices and inspecting the rooms (which eliminated most). By the time we decided to go back to place 1, we were leading a parade of touts shouting bargains and pleads. "No thank you" means little here.

As Khajuraho became more alive in the reasonable day time, it revealed itself as possibly the most aggressively touristic place we've been so far. We were driven to rooftop restaurants that offered refuge from the hassling below. I have to admit, we spent our second day hopping from one rooftop to the next - one for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert. Unfortunately, the worst part of the restaurants was the food. Reliance on tourism and food quality apparently have an inverse relationship, and we found ourselves craving the flavorful dishes India provides us elsewhere.

Finally, to the good part of Khajuraho: the temples. If you take away the surrounding town, Khajuraho was one of the nicest, most well-kept sites we've been to in India. (Maybe that's what the influx of tourist money goes towards, though I'm curious as to why the town still lags miserably in improvement considering its forced popularity.) The temples are gated within grassy and shockingly green grounds, and rise majestically towards the sky. What this means is that their carvers succeeded in mimicking the Himalayas, in homage to their power. As for the content of the carvings, they succeeded at setting lots of raunchy sex in stone.

See pictures below.

What's more fascinating than sex? Watching other people fascinate at sex. As much as I loved examining the erotic carvings, I took just as much pleasure (hehe) in observing a fanny-packed group of Asian tourists take turns at wildly snapping photos of a tiny doggy-style sculpture. Or watching an old couple point to a particularly dexterous pose that they could maybe have attempted back in their prime.

For some historical background on these incredible temples:
"One thousand years ago, under the generous and artistic patronage of the Chandela Rajput kings of Central India, 85 temples, magnificent in form and richly carved, came up on one site, near the village of Khajuraho. The amazingly short span of 100 years, from 950 AD - 1050 AD, saw the completion of all the temples, in an inspired burst of creativity. Today, of the original 85, only 22 have survived the ravages of time; these remain as a collective paean to life, to joy and to creativity; to the ultimate fusion of man with his creator. Why did the Chandelas choose Khajuraho or Khajirvahila - garden of dates, as it was known then - as the site for their stupendous creations? Even in those days it was no more than a small village. It is possible given the eclectic patronage of the Chandelas and the wide variety of beliefs represented in the temples, that they had the concept of forming a seat of religion and learning at Khajuraho. It is possible that the Chandelas were also believers in the powers of Tantrism; the cult which believes that the gratification of earthly desires is a step closer to the attainment of the infinite. It is certain however, that the temples represent the expression of a highly matured civilization. Yet another theory is that the erotica of Khajuraho, and indeed of other temples, had a specific purpose. In those days when boys lived in hermitages, following the Hindu law of being 'brahmacharis' until they attained manhood, the only way they could prepare themselves for the worldly role of 'householder' was through the study of these sculptures and the earthly passions they depicted."
- MP Tourism, http://www.mptourism.com/web/explore/destinations/khajurao.aspx

Fun fact: We had dinner with a swiss couple one night. They are BICYCLING across India. Liz and I couldn't believe it. India is a massive country, with major centers connected by train tracks and roads that can not have human company for miles. Rural villages sometimes fill in gaps, but I can't imagine they are used to accommodating two white people who roll up with saddle-bagged bikes. They even biked up to Mussoorie. I complained about the freaking drive.

To mention a few of our other experiences in Khajuraho: a waiter/masseur at our hotel who insisted on giving us sample massages while we ate breakfast, a bathroom sink that drained directly onto the floor, and discovering that playing gin rummy is a wonderful way to pass the time.

Two days was plenty in Khajuraho. And we're off.

Alexis

Naturally Nepal

Nepal. We had high hopes for Nepal because my mom and Dan had been there three days previous and it was their favorite place. And it was mostly just exciting to get a break from India, to be in a new country! We were whisked from the airport by a taxi that looked more like a metal death trap than anything and proceeded to bump along the unpaved roads leading into the main city. We didn't need to ask, to know that we'd reached Thamel. A main back packer's haunt, it was like the streets of Pahar Ganj plus the streets of McLeod Ganj mixed together on more narrow, more congested streets. A shopper's dream. We arrived too late to make a day of it, so we had a little look around to get ourselves oriented and then headed to dinner. Fabulous dinner options here are endless. Every ten feet is a cute outdoor courtyard cafe complete with mood lighting and potted plants. I had a feeling our meals for the next few days would be highly satisfying. (Unfortunately a stomach bug on my part prevented me from taking full advantage of the atmospheric joints.) In our hotel, we quickly came to learn that power outages are the norm, so we got used to taking up in four flights to our room in total darkness...yet somehow the wifi still worked?

We knew our time in Nepal would fly by, so we decided to take a half day car to speed up the sight seeing process. Our attempts to start nice and early were thwarted by a student protest, all of the roads were closed. Our driver told us to come back at noon and maybe the roads would be open by then. So we moseyed along the bustling streets, buying a lot more than we should. The difference between here and India was striking. The shopkeepers still urge you to enter their shop and look at their goods, but when you say "no thank you" they respond with "ok have a nice day" and you don't feel their eyes following you for the next 20 meters. So, even though the streets are more hectic and congested it was less draining and overwhelming than anywhere in India. That held true even at the local market that we visited later that day.

At noon we returned to the driver only to learn that the roads were still blocked. With a new meet time of 3pm, we decided to try our luck walking to Durbar Square, home of the living deity. We had no guarantee that 3pm would prove fruitful and we couldn't afford to have an entire day go to waste with so many things to see! We stopped for lunch first at a little Tibetan restaurant where we enjoyed momos and thukpa. The switch from Indian to Nepalese rupees has been very difficult. I saw the prices and was outraged at the cost of momos, but after converting to Nepalese rupees, they were a steal. We didn't actually enter Durbar Square because it cost a lot of money (even by US standards) but we could see a lot from the outer edges. The living deity is a girl picked at a young age as the a living incarnation of a god. She leads a very lonely life and once she reaches puberty, she is discarded. It is considered bad luck to be involved with, or married to a former living deity so she is virtually guaranteed a solitary life.

We did end up making it to some temples because by 3pm the roads were open! We started at the monkey temple. It was the less impressive of the two but still very cool. It is located on a hill overlooking the Kathmandu valley. Despite the view being a little hazy, it was impressive how large Kathmandu actually spans. One thing that was a little disappointing was the number of tourist shops that were inside the monkey temple complex. There were so many shops, I can't even believe that there's a market for so many items up there! It kind of ruined the feel though and in my opinion made the temple pale in comparison. The Boudhanath temple had many tourist shops as well, but they almost added to the feel of the place rather than diminishing it. For one, the temple itself is much bigger and feels mo impressive when surrounded by tiny buildings. The buildings themselves, had ornately carved windows and doors giving off the impression that it could be a section of Epcot. People walk clockwise around the temple and it gives the sense of a mass migration. In a way, it is. Boudhanath is the one of the most important Buddhist temples in the world and is the top pilgrimage site for Buddhists.

The story of how the temple came into being is very interesting. It is a very old temple (and the biggest stupa in the world) and is dated around 400-700. Dates and stories differ but my favorite that I heard involved a poultry woman. She wanted to spend her life savings to build a temple to honor the Buddha. When she petitioned to the king, he granted permission provided it spanned no more than the area of a buffalo skin. The woman, wanting a large monument, cut up the skin into strips and encircled an area that enclosed the massive stupa today. The king refused to go back on his word, despite outrage from his officials and thus the stupa came into being.

We watched the sun set from one of the surrounding rooftop cafes and then descended down at dusk to join the mass of people traveling in a clockwise direction. Dawn and dusk are popular worship times because these are times when praying is said to be most effective.


The next day we decided to get an early start and head to Nagarkot. Nagarkot is in the Bhaktapur district and is one of the best places (near to Kathmandu) to view the Himalayas. On a clear day you can even see Mt. Everest! After a bumpy but scenic ride steadily uphill, we reached the town. The town itself was nothing spectacular just a few run down restaurants and many hotels. The view once you walked outside the town however was stunning. There really is nothing like snow capped mountains. And while it wasn't clear enough to see Everest, the mountain range itself is enough to take your breath away. I found myself frustrated all day that pictures cannot do it justice at all. So I suppose it will have to remain in my mind and I can show you second rate pictures. But know that they pale in comparison. We walked along the downhill road where the Himalayas were visible. Unfortunately I was having tummy problems so once the road no longer had views of the mountain I returned back to town where I had access to constant bathrooms. Alexis went on to discover a cool local village but met me back in town soon after.

We headed to Peaceful Cottages. It is said to have the best view of the mountains in all of Nagarkot. Their roof is the tallest point of the town and allows for a 360 degree view with the Himalayas on one side and the Kathmandu valley on the other. Needless to say our afternoon was spectacular. We watched the sun go down over the Himalayas while reading J.R.R Tolkein on Valentines Day. Right as the sun went down we went back up to the now windy roof and watched as the last pink light hit the snow peaks. We then completed our day back in Kathmandu at the Jesse James bar where we enjoyed the beers and rum and cokes that are so hard to find in India.


Not much exciting happened the next day. We packed a lot into our three day excursion to Nepal and that included shopping. We spent the day split between high stress bargaining and relaxing at atmospheric cafes. The night was my favorite as we spent it at the hookah bar. We watched people get drunk and go to clubs from our cosy corner in the rooftop bar and smoked hookah all the while. There was a live band playing classic American rocks songs such as Born to Be Wild and Smoke on the Water.

Our time in Nepal was a nice break from India. It gave us time to regroup and relax. There were not as many stares and wee weren't hassled nearly as much, it was refreshing. And of course now we're back in India where our first smells were of urine and shit and there was garbage everywhere. Incredible India. We're back.

Cheers,
Liz

Attempt to Eat, Pray, Love

If you had asked for an update from me at around 4pm on February 6th, this is what I would have told you:

I have arrived to Sivananda Ashram* run by the Divine Life Society. It is located in Rishikesh, a well-known spiritual center of India and the world, and where the Beatles wrote the White Album. This place was even recommended by Lonely Planet.

I have discovered that Eat Pray Love is deceiving.

Elizabeth Gibert's chronicled ashram experience was, I'm quite convinced, unique. Not because of her post-divorce self discovery, but because her unnamed place of spiritual retreat sounded rather nice, and dare I say expensive, in retrospect. I haven't read the book in a few years so don't quote me on that. But any ashram where you can get promoted as a greeter must be something special, considering Liz and I couldn't even find the reception, or anyone to inquire to, as we roamed our ashram upon being dropped off. Eventually we did find reception, across the road, and I awaited instruction while filling out the usual paperwork. Ashrams have specific guidelines and programs to be honored by guests, and a serious-looking list of the former hung on the wall behind the desk. However, these were left entirely unexplained, and I received instead a room key and a dining hall voucher.

What I really wanted to ask was, "Why am I here and what do I do?" I didn't, of course. But in a slight panic I asked the man some questions like, "Are there any mandatory ashram activities?" (Whereupon he dug out a schedule for me.)

"No, but we encourage you to come to Bajan and evening satsanga." He pointed to them on the paper, and crossed out a few of the activities that were no longer offered as an afterthought.

. I looked at the schedule. I had vocabulary questions.

"What is Bajan?"
"Singing."
"Kirtan?"
"Chanting."
"Ganga Arati?"
"That, you will have to see when you get there."

I never did get there, as you will find later in the story.

Liz and I walked up many flight of stairs and up through the empty ashram complex to our room. It was pretty spartan. They had even gone the extra mile to impose simplicity by shoving the colorfully patterned blankets on the twin beds into white duvet covers. Swami Sivananda hanging in a frame was the only decoration. I can't make too much of a fuss about the room, though, since we stay in pretty budget accommodations everywhere. It wasn't so bad. If you ignored the decidedly prison-cell feel...

We checked out the schedule. I was mainly interested in the yoga. Bummer, because the cancelled activities happened to be all the yoga classes. "Looks like 4 days of singing, chanting, and worship." (We didn't stay 4 days, but that will come later as well.) The schedule paper had a new list of instructions to visitors. Sample:
2. You are expected to participate in ALL the spiritual programs of the ashram.
6. Use of electronic gadgets is prohibited. (Liz hides the ipad)
8. An atmosphere of peace should be maintained at all times.

Confusion and the feeling of being out of place are good at dashing the spirit, but I remained open minded and hopeful. I went to the first activity I could: tea. It took place in the dining hall, an enormous and empty cement room. At meal times, long rugs were unrolled for everyone to sit on, so after I filled my metal cup with chai from a giant dispenser, I made for least crowded rug, where only a few men were sitting. As soon as I sat down, they got up and moved. Men and women do not eat together there, and seeing as I was the only woman present, I drank my chai alone. Eventually an older woman came in with her husband, and she sat with me. She wasn't any Richard, and she spoke only a little English, but she was very nice. The kindest soul I encountered, in fact. I appreciated our small talk.

I went to the room after tea. The whole ashram complex was quiet and I didn't know what else to do. Liz and I set out when we could to the next activity offered, women's singing and chanting in the library. It, too, was cancelled, apparently because too many members were sick. Once again, back to the room. I was getting discouraged. Sitting in a barren room when you're a little homesick is not ideal, and meanwhile a downpour of rain commenced outside. Rain and hail continued until 5:30, when we were supposed to attend our next activity next to the Ganges river. We reasoned that we would be the only ones to show up in the horrid weather, if it wasn't cancelled already, so we remained indoors. (Plus we don't really have proper rain gear anymore.) We did wander the street along the river when the rain slowed to a sprinkle, and then we went to dinner in the dining hall.

Dinner began promptly at 6:30. It was surprisingly delicious, too, though it went by so fast I hardly remember it. We sat with all of the women sat along the far wall, and everyone sung a meal blessing. Dinner was served onto our round metal plates (men always first) by a guy who ladled scoops of rice and a veg curry out of large buckets. Like I said, I was pleasantly surprised, but everyone in the dining hall started shoveling in the food so fast that the whole process - singing, serving, eating, and dish washing in the next room - was over by 6:50 flat. That's faster than the speed of light for a slow eater, and especially so in comparison to the lengthy European meals we had just been reminiscing about.

Dinner was our second to last programmed activity of the day, and soon we were walking in the drizzling rain to evening satsanga, an experience I will never forget. If you've read Eat Pray Love, you'll remember Elizabeth Gilbert's struggle with the Bhavanagita. Richard calls it "The Geet." It is the bane of her existence during her time at the ashram, and I can understand why after a two-hour nonstop session of that and other devotional songs. There are times in India when you feel like you will never reach your destination. First, your vehicle is bound to get in an accident considering all of the chaotic driving. But mostly, there are no promises of punctuality, detour and stop free journeys, and clarity of direction. Your train might stop in the middle of the desert for an hour without explanation, and your rickshaw driver will have to stop and ask 10 people for directions even though he said he knew where your hotel was. Sometimes you have to adopt a sort of transcended state, entering the limbo of Indian journeys and surrendering the majority of your instinct to react or complain, when it will do absolutely nothing.

This is how I felt in the shrine for the two hour program. I sat on the floor absorbing the prayers, music, devotional singing. I sat with my thoughts and I attempted to maintain good posture. I discovered a clock on the wall and that was a mistake. When the whole thing was over I felt like I had just run a marathon. Happy that I did it, happy it was over, surprised I made it.

At the end of the day, we concluded that it was just not our time to be in an ashram. "I'm too young for this." "There's no yoga." and other reasons could be listed. But the truth of the matter is that you get a new feeling every time you arrive somewhere new, and this feeling/vibe takes precedence over all plans, intentions, and impressions you had. It's like visiting a college campus in person when you're deciding where to go to university - suddenly none of the prestige, academics, or logistics matter. You just love it or you don't. And we didn't, and the vibes were off. I don't believe in "toughing out" a place that gives me bad vibes. That's pushing your luck.

We left the ashram in the morning. Maybe when I'm recently divorced I'll give it another go.

With our new time and breathing room in Rishikesh, we found a guesthouse situated in the forest a bit, that had gardens and a pleasant outdoor restaurant. We went on a waterfall hike. We explored the town, which spans both sides of the Ganges and is connected by the famous Laxshmi Jula, a foot (and motorcycle) bridge with temple views. We ate at a treehouse style restaurant enjoying the river view, and had tea by candlelight at night when the power at the hotel ran low due to the recent rains.

We managed to get back to Delhi early, and via India's nicest train at that. They fed us about every 5 minutes, and we were back in the familiar hold of Paharganj that same night. We spend several days returning to our favorite spots and visiting some unexplored corners, like the upscale and artsy Hauz Kauz village. The days slowed down a bit, being back on our old stomping grounds. But, hey, we're in Nepal now; objects in motions once again.

Namaste,
Alexis



*An ashram is a place of spiritual retreat.
*Fun fact! I just wikipediaed "ashram" and the one we stayed at is featured in the article.

The Dalai Lama and School Yard Drama

Sorry that it's been a little while. Things get crazy when you're with the 'rents. Well, I say things were crazy but really that's a lie. The past two and a half weeks have been the most relaxing of this entire trip! We went to McLeod Ganj (aka the Dalai Lama's residence) by train where we had the luxury of traveling first class. Alexis and I could not get over how fancy it was. The beds were more comfortable than most of the hotels we've stayed at and we had our own turn down service. Needless to say the train went very smoothly. The only unfortunate thing is that there are still three of us hacking up a lung. You could hear our barks up and down the train.

McLeod Ganj is unlike any place we've stayed in India. For one, it's a not really Indian. There are more Tibetan people here than Indian and that makes the vibe totally different. You can see snow capped mountains in the near distance, and pine trees everywhere. I was a huge fan of the area. The trees and the mountains almost reminded me of Northern California. We kept a pretty low profile in McLeod Ganj (also known as Upper Dharamshala). We were more interested in relaxing among family than doing intensive site seeing. Not to say that we didn't do any. We ventured to the Tibetan government in exile where we met with the father of one of Setse's friends at school. He was very humble about it, but we're pretty sure he has a really important role in the government. He showed us around a little bit and we got to the the Tibetan library and also a monastery where the oracle to the Dalai Lama lives.

We also went to see the big boy himself. Well not really but we went to the Dalai Lama's residence where he lives when he's not traveling around, bettering the world. When it comes to his residence, it's really location, location, location! The view is spectacular and you can see the towns in the valley and the mountains above. I certainly wouldn't mind living there.

We had one more notable outing to the Norbulingka institute, a place that teaches recently arrived refugees traditional Tibetan handicrafts. Here as well had a brilliant feng shui. Vaguely resembling a Japanese water garden, it could have been a high end resort in any moderate climate location. It was well maintained, and had a lovely atmosphere. We ate lunch at the outdoor cafe and then got a free tour of all of the workshops. My favorite was the wood carving because I love the smell of wood shavings, but the thangka paintings were cuisine also. Thangka is a traditional Tibetan art form that is paint or fabric appliqué on silk. They typically depict either mandalas, Buddhas or other deities. We got to see the apprentices at work which was cool. It was funny though because a lot of them were lounging at their work places on smart phones. Technology really has pervaded everywhere. Even in the streets we see monks using their smart phones. Anyway, our tour ended at... You guessed it, the gift shop. We got to see the finished products of the workshops which was nifty but also pricey.

Everything here really was Tibetan themed including the food. They do momos (also known as dumplings) and boy do the Tibetans know how to do them. My personal favorite were from the Momo cafe, a tiny hole in the wall that makes the dumplings fresh when you order. They were so good and I already crave them with no hope of gratification. The food in general here was really tasty and we even attempted Italian! Mom and Dan assured us it paled in comparison to real Italian but Alexis and I are so removed that it tasted fine to us. Other than that, we did some shopping, got some massages and just generally relaxed. Those of us who were sick worked on getting better and those who were well worked on not getting sick.

All too soon, the time came for us to head to Mussoorie to drop off Setse at Woodstock. The trip up consisted of a 12 hour car ride. For me and Alexis, this travel day was quite easy since we didn't need to do anything tricky, we just sat in a car. Mom however was extremely unamused and said it was a hideous travel day that she never wanted to repeat. We arrived in Mussoorie and after some confusion with directions we managed to make it to Rokeby. It was by far the nicest place that Alexis and I have stayed in our entire five months of traveling. The bed was plush and soft with an equally plush down duvet. It was warm, it was clean and decorated much like any high end Western bed and breakfast. The only tragic thing was that we were only there for one night because I easily could have stayed there for months. The weather was pretty dreary during our brief stay. We never got to see the great view that Setse raved about and it was miserable to walk around too much. Alexis and I moved into the guest house at Woodstock when Setse moved back into her dorm. It certainly wasn't as nice as our room in Rokeby but it was clean and quiet. Everyone knows everyone at Woodstock so we were questioned many times about who we were and what we were doing there. We ate cafeteria food, we attended Setse's Hindi class and we enjoyed our last few days with each other.

After what seemed like no time at all, our time with my parents was over and we are now back to the two of us. Mom and Dan were nice enough to drive us to Rishikesh so we had one last easy travel day. It was hard to say goodbye when we've been traveling for so long and I'm more than a little homesick but we have more adventures to have and so do they!

Cheers,
Liz