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Personal Blog of Steve Baumber
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We're in Delhi, we're in Delhi! On a good recommendation (thanks Mike and Janine) we caught an autorickshaw to the far Northeast of Delhi in the New Tibetan colony. It's like being back in Nepal and will be a very peaceful retreat from knocking around this huge city. So many monks here it's like a monestary.
When I get to a better computer I'll post the inevitable obligatory shot of the Taj Mahal. And yes, it was worth going to see. Was it worth 1,500 ruppees for us to see it? I dunno.
A big overdue shout out to Kristi and Barb who have had babies, one of each. The Hirshies and Johnsons are building their dynasties while we're busy spending our future dynasty's inheritance.
posted by Steve @
9:35 PM
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1.29.2006  |
We are now in Agra, the city that surrounds the Taj Mahal. It was a very short bus ride from Bharatpur, and with a good internet connection and some time to kill before our whirlwind sightseeing fest tomorrow, I thought some pictures were in order. At the risk of going too far back in our travels, here is a photo of our happy group going to the Karni Mata (rat) temple in Bikaner. Well, we're happy but the autorickshaw wallah was a bit grumpy by the end of the day. Lucky, Hussan and Ali from left to right.
 And here is a shot of the Nahargarh Fort in Jaipur, which should give you a feel for the ruins of the various Rajasthan strongholds we have visited.
Bharatpur was a great choice as a break in between cities, and we met a lovely American woman (Fran) who is spending four weeks cycling around Rajasthan. She was also an avid birder, and the three of us arose early yesterday morning and, with a park guide, cycled off into the Keoladeo Ghana National Park. The Park used to be a private hunting ground for the maharaja of Bharatpur, who created a series of wetlands to enhance his prey options. A sign in the park lists various hunting expeditions that resulted in unbelievable carnage (over 4,000 birds were shot in one day on one 'expedition'). Luckily in the mid-seventies the park was established and is now a World Hertitage site being a major migratory stopping place for Eurasian bird species. Of course, despite the immigrant birds being a major draw, the local species are no slouches, as the 'common' Indian Kingfisher illustrates. We birded until the late afternoon, and then relaxed in our guesthouse back in town. Bharatpur was an amazingly quiet city, and despite the slightly salty, smelly tap water, is very clean.
While reading on our balcony, we heard familiar voices, and were happy to see Martin and Deborah, the British folks, climbing out of an autorickshaw to investigate our guesthouse. We tried to tell them it was full, or burnt down, but they were wise to our tout tricks and stayed anyway. We had a great dinner catching up on their adventures, telling our stories and meeting a Scottish couple they had met in Bundi.
 We bid them goodbye again, and now that we are in Agra the final few days in India seem all too short. Needless to say that India has indeed grown on us since the early days of getting sick in Kolkata and suffering through the dirty sprawl of Jabalpur, and like everyone says it is a place that takes time for you to grow accustomed to (and perhaps appreciate some of) its 'charms'. Still, we chose to avoid the hardcore backpacking lifestyle every now and then, and so there was no avoiding it. India has turned me into a tourist.
With my new image firmly in place, I'm sure we'll fit right in to our final stops, the most touristy tourist stops in India!
posted by Steve @
12:22 AM
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1.28.2006 |
Condolences to those who voted other than Conservative. It seems that the urban/rural split frighteningly resembles the same distinction in views as the U.S. It's nice to read that Gordon Campbell is happy about the results, as he feels that the Conservatives will probably lift the moratorium on off shore drilling. Liberals in name only. But I'm whining from afar...
Jaipur isn't that bad. Not really. It's busy and more polluted and harder to get around, but it's no Kolkata. Or Nagpur for that matter as there are sights to see here. Sadly, being back in a major city means that the poverty is much more immediate and not hidden by a rural setting. We are once again targets for children and mothers begging in the streets. Yesterday while stopped at a traffic light a woman laid her obviously malnourished baby on the side of the autorickshaw to beg for money. Amidst shock, guilt, anger at her use of the baby to illicit our compassion, anger at myself for feeling angry with her, sadness at the condition of the baby, frustration, embarassment, indecision, the rickshaw pulled away leaving her in the traffic. How do you go back to "sightseeing"?
Rosemary and I have talked a lot about how traveling amidst poverty makes us feel. It really comes down to not traveling at all or avoiding developing countries so that you don't have to deal with the guilt, or finding some way of traveling compassiontely in the face of seeing the depth of your privelage.
Anyway, I wanted to also do a special shout out to Ali, Lucky and Hussan from Bikaner. Ali and Lucky are in University there, and Hussan is still in high school. But the three of them spent two days with us, showing us the sights, with never putting a hand out. Ali took us into his home and his sister henna'd "Stephel Loves Rosemary" on Rosemary's hand (spelling is tough with henna). They met us at the train station to see us off, and gave us a box of Indian sweets for the journey. To be honest we had been waiting for "the other shoe to drop" the eventual request for money or something. There was none of that - these three Muslim gentlemen were genuine and the best example of the hospitality and friendliness we've had in Rajasthan. Thank you boys!
We toured the "Pink City" today by buying a ticket on the Rajasthan Tourism Development Corporation bus. Feeling like we had stepped out into a limbo somewhere between being a dispicable tourist and a hard core backpacker, it was still a great inexpensive way to see a whole lot of things in and round Jaipur, only at a pace that became annoyingly restrictive by the end. However, we seem to make friends with the tour guides wherever we go and Raj had lunch with us and generally made our day-long sight-seeing experience a little less gorby-like! I'll try to post a picture or two when I get to a better computer.
It's unreal, but our time in India is growing short and compressed (we fly to Singapore in a week and a half). We're going to Bharatpur next to do some bird watching, then to Agra (home of the Taj Mahal and supposedly the worst touts in the country) and then to a smorgasbord of shopping in Dehli. Hang on to your lunch kits, the ride's going to get a little bumpy!
posted by Steve @
7:05 AM
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1.25.2006 |
Election day in Canada, and we are feeling very disconnected from the democratic process. I don't presume to tell anyone their politics, but traveling through countries where homosexuality is illegal and men are routinely imprisoned, where women are second class citizens, where corruption is a way of life in the government and not just the odd croni-ism of the Chretien or Mulroney government, where currently Nepal's King is silencing the people's voices of protest and their desire to have representation and stability, where India is filled with the walking wounded and dying that have no social assistance, and all we can feel is that the Conservative party's policies would be a step back for Canada. Please think about your vote and what kind of country you'd like to be from if you were in our shoes on the other side of the world, seeing that ignorance and intolerance are far worse dangers to a society than corruption. All parties are corrupt to some extent, but it seems to me that not all parties are willing to uphold the values and social programs that Canada is respected for.
Sorry for that. Back to the trip. To recap, we traveled north from Mumbai to Udaipur via an overnight bus, and while there we met a French couple who were staying at the same hotel as us in the “White City”. We then traveled Northwest on a very windy road up and over the mountains to Jodhpur (birthplace of the puffy pants) to mill around the majestic fort that overlooks the “Blue City”. Here we met a British couple to round out our group to an international six, and the six of us hired an SUV to drive the flat straight stretch of road to Jaisalmer, the “Golden City”.
 With a ready made group we sounded out some places offering a camel safari into the Great Thar Desert, and settled on Sahara Travels, run by the indomitable Laxshmi Narayan Bissa, or “Mr. Desert”, a title which has apparently been made official by the state. As you can see, he also had the obvious credential of the best moustache we had seen, so it was a no brainer.
We jeeped out to an undisclosed location in the desert where we met Dadayu, our camel driver. We very quickly climbed aboard six grumbling camels and began to plod our way down a sandy trail. The Great Thar Desert is not endless dunes like the Sahara, but more scrub brush, stunted trees, rocks and sand. At times it felt like the Alberta badlands, and at times like pictures I've seen of say Monument Valley in the U.S. Camels are a lot higher off the ground than horses, not as smooth, and yet not as rough as you might think. One of the most disconcerting thing is that I have no idea what goes through a camel's mind. Dadayu is convinced that camels are more intelligent than horses, as they can find their way home in a sand storm, an obvious plus. I wasn't sure as it was very difficult to know what a camel is thinking. And they don't speak English or Spanish.
 After we had gone a little ways, I wondered why Rosemary got to steer her camel and why Dadayu was dutifully leading my camel for me. I wondered if it was perhaps my royal bearing, and a camel-wallah was a fitting accoutrement to my status as obviously being our group's White Raja. The truth, however, was that my camel, whom we'll call Baboo, was in rut. Apparently for camels this lasts for a month, and all Baboo was thinking about was finding a girl camel, and he might be inspired to run for miles if he thinks he sees/smells/hears/senses or otherwise believes that a female camel may be in the vicinity. Dadayu said that at the time the only voice he could hear was Dadayu's, but if I'd like to I could steer my own camel. Visions of bouncing off into the desert trying to think of the Hindi words for "Whoa camel!" I said I was quite happy for Dadayu to continue leading my camel, despite feeling like I was on a glorified pony ride at the beach.
Being in rut, and also being the dominant camel of our bunch, Baboo also had the pleasant habit of inflating his soft palate, or "goulla", with a wet rumbling gurgling sound that started from his belly and produced a fleshy baloon that hung out of the side of his mouth. Apparently this behaviour drove the ladies crazy, which possibly explains some of the local male behaviour we've seen when Rosemary sits down to eat or makes an appearance outside of the hotel room. But I digress.
We visited a village, where they made us tea and asked for almost everything we carried with us, but settled for 5 rupees per chai. A drought has been ongoing for the past three years, and next to no rain has come in the monsoon. Most farmers have turned to other means of supporting their families, like camel safaris for foreigners. One shop we visited in Jaisalmer had nifty antiques, but the owner was open about the fact that he was purchasing items from villagers that had no other means of support than to sell their family treasures and household goods. A sobering thought to picking up souvenirs, and our village visit was a bit uncomfortable. We continued on, and the magic of the quiet desert wind and the wide open spaces soon helped ease away the guilt we often feel at our privelage to travel into someone else's backyard.
We reached our campsite which was nestled amidst several large sand dunes, and we spent a while climbing them, running down them and generally enjoying being off our camels. Dadayu and his two assistants prepared a tasty thali (basic veg) dinner, and we settled in for the evening around a campfire. At which point the two Canadians from Vancouver produced three bhang cookies we purchased at the official government bhang shop in Jaisalmer that morning. We were told to only eat half a cookie each. The British couple declined a nibble, and by the end of the brief desert dessert only 1/4 of a cookie was left of the three.
I played guitar and sang all the songs I could think of, and as I became more aware of the planet spinning beneath us, it was time for bed. We lay out on bedrolls beneath the stars and as Rosemary and I giggled our way to sleep between brief bouts of poignent confusion we wondered who ate too much bhang cookie. It was the French girl. After some anxiety late at night she was able to sleep again. Damn Indian bhang. The next day I learned that Rosemary and Jean Luc (Alexia's other half) had sold us to Dadayu. I for a camel, and Alexia for one small aubergine. Here we are being welcomed into Dadayu's family for a life of desert fun.
The rest of the journey was peaceful and a great rest from the tourist grind of the cities. It was sad that we had to split from our new friends, but such is the life of the backpacker. Now in Bikaner, which is halfway between Jaisalmer and Jaipur as you head East across Rajasthan, we are getting used to making our own decisions again instead of being part of the committee. However, we were befriended by three local youths (Ali, Lucky and Hussan) who have been our tour guides for the past two days. From the bus window North Eastern Rajasthan has been flat and dusty, so what better way to celebrate than to take an autorickshaw 30km down a straight stretch of black top to the Karni Mata temple, which is filled with rats that Hindus feel are holy rats as they beleive they are the reincarnations of poets and artists. Cute little milk-drinking rats. They say it's lucky if you spy the white one, and we did. I share it with you all, and perhaps the luck will spread itself out!
Now off to Jaipur, the "Pink City" which everyone says is dirty, polluted, noisy and crazy with touts. But we've been to Kolkata. How bad can it be?
posted by Steve @
5:17 AM
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1.23.2006 |
We are in Bikaner now, but here is a brief glimpse of the camel safari we did out of Jaisalmer.
We have done a lot, and met some interesting folks (including Mr. Desert), but internet has been difficult in this dusty town, especially getting photos off the camera.
And there's just no time! We're off to the infamous Rat Temple. Will Rosemary survive? Will Steve see the lucky white rat amidst the thousands crawling over his toes? Wait and see...
posted by Steve @
10:54 PM
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1.21.2006 |
From Udaipur the bus was an easy jaunt up the highway to Jodhpur, and as we disembarked we caught up with a couple from France that we had met in Udaipur. They had joined ranks with a couple from England, and the six of us rickshawed into the Old City of Jodhpur, crammed at the base of a huge bluff that held the awesome Meherangarh Fort. It's name means "Majestic" and it truly is. I've never been to something so old and so huge and well-preserved. This picture doesn't do it justice, but it gives you a sense of its scale. As a group we hiked up to the ramparts for the sunset, and with the sandstone walls glowing blood red in the twilight contrasting the angular buildings of the old city below that are a pale cobalt blue, the view was truly breathtaking.
We spent the next day exploring it's insides. A large portion of the interiors have been turned into a museum that displays various portions of the Maharaja's collections, dating back 600 years. Some of the rooms within the fort are incredibly ornate, and examples of the coming together of Moghul and Indian (Islamic and Hindu) artistry.
With six of us to split the bill, we hired a jeep to cover the distance to Jaisalmer, where we are now in a beautiful 250 year-old Haveli rest house inside the walls of a fort even older than the one in Jodhpur. Our nifty room has a window seat that overlooks the northern portion of the small city, and then the expanse of the Great Thar Desert stretching to the horizon on its way to the border with Pakistan.
As we continue to follow the Rajasthan trail, any misgivings about touts or difficulties in traveling have been overwhelmed by the scenery, our new friendships, and the good humour of the locals. We are truly enjoying this portion of India! The six of us (Jean Luc and Alexia from France and Deborah and Martin from England) are off on a camel trek tomorrow to get jiggy with the desert and try some non-beach-related sand for a change...
posted by Steve @
4:21 AM
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1.16.2006 |
 The India of postcards and James Bond films lives in Rajasthan, and as our last set of stops in India we have kept the "best" to last. Udaipur is a warm, friendly and magical city perched on hills surrounding a lake. It is the beginning of the very tourist travelled "ruin route" where you can see the glory of India's Maharaja past.
From the windows of the City Palace, you can look down to the lake where the white Floating Palace perches just above the water line. This is the place where Octopussy had her harem in the Bond film of the same title, a fact that many guest houses will remind you of (reminiscent of every hotel in Ko Phi Phi in Thailand that had tours to James Bond Island from "Man with the Golden Gun"). Although you can't tour the palace (as it is now a high-end hotel) at several places you are welcome to watch the film on a little TV while eating dinner on a rooftop restaurant that overlooks the lake and the palace. Tempting as this was, last night we instead went and watched a performance of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" by an acting troup from the UK. They performed in one of the courtyards of the City Palace, and it was incredibly atmospheric to be sitting amidst a 400-year-old palace watching Shakespeare. Who says one can't find culture in tourist land?
Of course, I suppose we should really be seeking Indian culture, but finding said path to India's curried heart is of course the million tourist question while you're here. As we've bussed and trained and beached we've read through several of the "India experience" books like "Holy Cow!", "Are you experienced?" and "Karma Kola". Each in its own way tries to make sense of what draws people to India, what India is really "like", or what India has to "offer" the typical Western traveller. "Are you experienced?" seems to give a voice (through its various characters) to a lot of the different sides of what I've been thinking about, even though the main charcter is a bit of a git. Why India? Do you come to India to chalk it up as a test of your "traveler" integrity? Is there truly a spiritual practice or teaching that transcends what is possible in Western society? Am I here just to have a look at something I can't see on Salt Spring Island, or at least appreciate where all the New Age folks on Salt Spring Island get their ideas (and odd clothes that no self-respecting Indian wears)? It eventually gets very personalised, and our meet and greet with India will resonate and teach and linger in us in ways dictated, to some extent, by who we were when we got here. It seems that India has made me consider more than other countries why we're traveling here. Perhaps it's because the fact that you are a tourist/guest/voyeur/infidel is thrust back at you more than anywhere else we've been to. India constantly asks why you're here and after a while you end up asking yourself as well.
I know for certain though, after 19 hours from Mumbai to Udaipur, that a sleeper bus is marginally better than a regular sitting bus. In a small compartment over top of the seats of the bus, it is a combination of a train sleeper berth and the top bunk in your parent's truck camper. Except your parents aren't always pulling over to pick up anyone on the side of the road who doesn't mind sleeping on the floor, or for the obligatory chai/toilet stops. It's noisy, bouncy, and wierd enough to be fun. For an hour. Then you just try sleeping.
After three great days in Udaipur we're ready for the next bus that will take us to Jodhpur, and the next set of forts, palaces, temples and touts.
posted by Steve @
11:06 PM
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1.11.2006 |
Happy New Year! Our New Year’s Eve was peaceful (dare I say romantic?) on the houseboat – here’s a view from the dinner table.
We traveled the backwater canals of Kerala on New Year's Eve, but it was decidedly lacking in remoteness or seclusion. The area is populated and developed, and the steady stream of houseboat traffic dispels the idea that you're delving into a hidden part of India rarely seen. That and every child you pass along the way shouting "Helloonepen?" Once I got over my expectations of hoping to see the Kerala backwaters of 20 years ago, the magic of the place crept in. By sunset we had moored next to bright green rice fields that stretched into the distance, and before dinner we shared a bottle of Indian wine with the crew of three that ran the boat – Santos the driver, Joseph the engine man, and Thomas the cook. After dinner we lay on the daybed on the roof of the boat, I played a little guitar, we swatted a hundred mosquitoes, and stared up at a million stars as the clock ticked us into 2006.
We must now leave behind the quiet peace of our Kerala hideaway, and venture back on to the tourist trail - not too briskly though! A sudden exposure may be deletirious! First a beach resort south of Mangalore for a couple of days to firm up the tan, then back to the bustling metropolis of Mumbai, a city that overlooked my obvious possible contribution to Bollywood last time, so a second taste is in order.
From there it's a slow bus to Udaipur, our first stop in Rajasthan. You’ll find no greater hive of touts and photogenic forts in all of India. Except maybe in Agra. May the force be with us.
posted by Steve @
12:24 AM
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1.02.2006 |
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