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So much has transpired over the past week, where to begin? I have been reading a book called Holy Cow: An Indian Adventure written by Sarah MacDonald, an Australian journalist who came to Dehli to live with her boyfriend. The book has proven to be jam packed full of insight about India and what I see and experience. It is true, I have come to grow weary in the past week…longing for my bed and clean laundry, but as my friend Troy aptly remarked, this is a once in a life-time experience and I should seize every moment.
The internet connections and electricity are intermittent here in India. The demand is too great for the supply. In my previous entry I stated that I love India, but it has become a love hate relationship (sounds like the relationships I have had with men in the past). Sarah MacDonald notes that India is a land of contradictions, thus I too shall contradict myself. India has caused me to become tired…yet at time I feel inspired and rejuvenated (more often than not after seeking asylum in my air-conditioned room or after a cold shower (as there is a deficit of hot H2O
also)). Ms. MacDonald writes in her book, “…only the most foolhardy or ill-informed tourist would dare venture to India from April to September.” She continues: “By June it’s getting too hot to laugh, in fact it’s getting too hot to do anything. Temperatures are over one hundred degrees Fahrenheit and I can’t even leave the house. Jonathan travels to Afghanistan, where he will require a cool head to secretly film in a land where cameras are illegal. While he’s out of touch for two weeks, I shut myself inside. But there is no escape. The power cuts increase and the air-conditioning breaks down. My head feels like it’s full of cotton wool soaked in oil, and I am as weak as Superman struggling with a necklace of Kryptonite. I drag myself around the house and flop onto the couch in a semicoma. Thoughts drift like light clouds—the moment I try to catch one it dissipates. I adopt the Indian blank-faced straight-ahead stare, as I can’t be bothered to shut my eyes or to focus them. At times it feels like my pupils have been sucked dry and collapsed into withered raisins. Arms too heavy too move, head too heavy to
lift, I lie and watch the fan like a placid infant transfixed by a mobile. At times I’m so hot I cry, but the tears evaporate before they reach the corners of my eyes. My Sikh-inspired spiritual strength is melting away and my brain is too fried to meditate. I begin to worship the air-conditioner and pray for fewer power cuts.” I feel some sense of relief that what I experience is not solely my own.
I think I reached a wall…the travel wall where you want to return to the place you call home, in Orcha. Orcha is a lovely, well preserved small town with amazing ruins. Our hotel however, was not so amazing. Initially I was upset with the lack of adequate plumbing and the fact that our room was one of only two without air-conditioning. The others, for the most part, had rooms that looked like palaces, while ours looked like a prison cell (and I am not exaggerating). The point where I lost it was when I saw hundreds, if not thousands of tiny black bugs crawling EVERYWHERE. Penny saw the sink, I did not, and she said it was black. She has traveled extensively
and she stated frankly that it was one of the most horrific things she has encountered. THANKFULLY, Amelia and Paula took me in and I moved my mattress to the ‘secured environment’ of their cool room. They had a couple of bugs, a mere fraction of what I witnessed in my previous room, but the geckos Amelia named Barney, Stanley and Marvin took care of them. We believed they had a feast during the night, as they were gone in the morning. I am so grateful they allowed me to stay with them. (And thankfully Penny was taken in by Clara and Kat.)
I was only too eager to leave Orcha.
The next stop was Khajuraho where there are numerous Hindu temples ironically decorated with images representing the Kama Sutra and tantric sex acts. I studied these temples in my South East Asian art and architecture course so seeing them was a highlight. It was also entertaining to hear the men in our group giggle while their eyes seemed to pop out of their sockets. Boys will always be boys it seems.
The journey from Khajuraho involved an early morning departures which I can now appropriately describe
in British slang as “mental” (Thanks Andy). At 3:30 am we left via van traveling for several hours via virtual non-roads to the train station. Then an eight hour journey ensued in a train without air-conditioning. Not exactly ideal, yet all part of the experience.
It still intrigues me as to why India people are so intrigued with white skin. At times I grow tired of the staring, at other times it is novel. Nevertheless I am baffled by all the attention.
Varanasi has been a fascinating place…and despite the chaos here there is something about it that is appealing. Varnassi is a pilgrimage site for Hindus…supposedly one of the oldest living cities. Here my eyes have taken in a great deal…burning on the ghats (ghats are like piers and Varanasi is on the Ganges, a sacred river to Hindus, and the burning is that of cremation…it is honorable to be cremated in Varanasi). The burning was intriguing, yet somehow unsettling…it reminded me that my grandma and my cat died not all that long ago. In part, it is because of my grandma’s passing that I am here traveling....I miss her. Many people also believe that it is
sacred to bathe in the Ganges, thus we witnessed that from the vantage point of a boat on Thursday morning. Yet again, quite intriguing.
Yesterday three of us also got our palm read…which was a perplexing, yet comforting experience. I will be curious to know if the predictions are realized. We also said farewell to six of our group members who are traveling onto Nepal. Penny is one of the six…it will be weird without her presence as well as the others. In about an hour and a half I shall board an overnight train and return to Dehli. Back to the point where we started…full of experiences. Yet more experiences to be realized.
Thanks for the bits of news from home…interesting that Chicago is slated to building the world’s tallest building and will bid for the Olympics. And sad that Peter Jennings passed. Home is far yet near.
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Nicki Denner
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Wendy, sorry to hear India's been a challenge but i think that's way India is for everyone i've ever talked to that;s been there. I thought i should let you know that Tonya's Dad died of a heartattack two weeks ago. Here's her email if you want it. repeater@bitstream.net Obviously, she's really upset and it came as a complete shock. Sorry for the bad news but i thought you might want to know, Happy travels- xoxoxMe