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Published: September 7th 2009
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Henna at Mother Theresa's
I enjoyed doing this as much as she was loved having it done. So awesome! Heebee Jeebee Inn
Toto, we ain't in the U.S. no more. The shock and awe of an interesting place wore off as I stumbled along the torn up streets amid multiple scooters and rickshaws, person after person asking "yes please, you want ride? Chai? Shoes?" anything, everything; "yes please, you like?" I'm already covered in sweat, not sure what I
really ate for breakfast and can't bring myself to sleep past 4:30 am. Oye.
Then my leg starts to itch. Maybe I shoulda opted for Malaria meds. Would disturbing dreams and severe motion sickness been all
that bad ? Then I discover-- their not mosquito bites. Am I comforted? Not really. I'm not a big fan of bed bugs either. The Star Plaza staff were willing to strip the beds and spray with an "herbal" pesticide. Can that be trusted in a country where insecticides and pesticides are found in the Coke? Bring it on. I
really don't like bed bugs.
So much to see, so little time
On Saturday the group ventured to Mother Theresa's home for the destitute and dying. That time went way to
fast. After meeting Sister Charmagne and hearing her story of being mentored by Mother Theresa then eventually caring for the woman in her passing, we were introduced to the women staying there. One of our guides passed out to us bottles of nail polish and tubes of henna to pamper the women with. We dove right in. The ladies grabbed a hold of us and enjoyed us rubbing their backs and painting their hands. They were very forgiving of my artwork. What do I know about henna? I quickly learned what the symbol for Ohm is, but not before butchering it.
After painting all the hands before me, I let two of the young women paint mine. It made me feel better as, they too, lacked the artistic gift. Before I knew it, we were all leaving. On the trip back, I overheard people talking about the men's ward and the demolishment of the old wings. How did I miss this? There simply was not enough time. I'll cherish the time I did get there, but wish that were a daily trip rather than a quick orientation. The work those people are doing is so amazing and founded in
Tibetan Momos
Our stop in a Tibetan Refugee colony yeilded some amazing food! faith that God will provide. And provide He does.
Yesterday, Sunday, we made a ridiculously long trip to the Taj Mahal (means Crown Palace as it is shaped like Mumtaz's crown). The five hours on the way there wasn't too terrible. We left at 3 am and were all still sleeping. The ride back was far less bearable. The Taj Mahal was incredible. I cannot imagine the work that went into building this marble masterpiece in just 22 years with only hand operated tools.
Although this was interesting to see, I must say I am finding myself less interested in the sight seeing and craving human interaction. A few of us wandered around our hotel neighborhood until we became lost in the winding walkways running through the homes. Clearly the people there were settling down, cooking dinner and doing laundry. Off the main roads, they greeted us with smiles and touching their palms saying "Namaste." We returned each greeting, thrilled to be in such an intimate area. We stumbled upon an arcade. A room cut out of the concrete with a cloth door and children crammed into every inch available around the 3 working machines. We stopped long
The Taj Mahal
Notice the pillars lean out a bit. So if they eventually crumble, they will fall away from beloved Mumtaz's tomb. enough for them to see us and were begged to come inside and see. I rolled film as Mandy ventured in. The children were ecstatic to have foreign visitors and the arcade wallah was equally amused. It was such a blessing to share a few minutes trying to converse with these kids despite a couple of inappropriate gestures and one groping that befell Mandy. She handled it gracefully.
So, Now What?
Today is a new day. I sit in the local internet shop, typing at a rate of 20 rupees an hour (about 52 cents). Some kind of critter is running around my feet (I decided to put my purse up). Smells of masala and fried food waft in with each customer. My leg itches. Today I am deciding between Ghandi's Museam and Memorial or grabbing a rickshaw with a few others and seeing the upscale Delhi. It would be a nice contrast, but as I am told, we havn't even begun to see what slums look like. I shudder at that thought. We constantly trip over dogs and people, the days waste and construction. Tonight, a twelve hour trainride to Dharamsala. I can't believe its
The bus ride of eternity
Hot, smelly, bumpy, abrupt braking and the constant honking of horns; this didn't feel like no 5 hour drive. only been 5 days. This trip has hardly begun.
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Jim & Cheryl
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What an adventure!
Hi, Angie! We cannot even imagine what it must be like in India! It sounds so totally different from anything we have ever experienced! Hope that your bedbug problem has been solved--we've heard that those little critters are everywhere, even in 5-star hotels in NYC! Love hearing about your adventures. Hang in there! Love, --Cheryl