Two years later we’re now new parents whom and have traded the mild and foggy weather of San Francisco for sunny and humid Atlanta. Have we given up the desire to pack all your belongings into an undersized backpack and head to next under-explored village, NO! Now it’s time to be more family friendly with our travels at least until the little one can carry her own backpack and be ready to run down that departing bus to Ho Chi Minh City.

Now that we’re in the more traditional car loving South it’s time to take advantage of our first car and explore America like generations before us, on the road.

Charles

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IMG_2389, originally uploaded by nycduncan.

This picture is not posed. Charles was so tired and annoyed after a 22 hour train ride he was not in the mood to pose. Besides, although not in the picture there were about 10 people in front of him…….just staring. He was really, really annoyed…..but still cute!!

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IMG_1839, originally uploaded by nycduncan.

Monique and the gang(teenagers all over the world are the same) – The Botanical Gardens, Kokotta.

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“We land at Kolkotta Airport. Hmmm!!! Not bad I say. What is all the fuss about? Where were all these people they talked about in India? The airport was quiet and seemed quite empty. Maybe this had something to do with our plane being the only one that landed or that big airport strike we found out about AFTER we had purchased our non-refundable tickets. Anyway, I figured, this is not going to be half bad!!! I am gonna love it every moment of it!!!!! Humph!!! Well folks, lets just say I spoke waaaaayyyy too soon.

We got our cab and headed to the Sudder Street Area, where we figured we would find a hotel (we had no advance booking as usual). What madness is this????? I start to feel hot, then hotter, then on fire! The windows remained open since the cab has no air condition. Then I start to see things. Things like torrents of traffic, unlike anything I had seen in my life, coming from all angles. I thought Saigon was bad, but lord, surely we would die in a car crash, in this crazy place!!! Call it madness if you will but there was no method to how our cab or any other vehicle for that matter was driving. There existed no straight lines just crooked ones. The cab stopped, the cab jerked, the cab halted, the cab surged!!! Only the cab driver knew what he was doing in this mass confusion. Together with the hundreds of old fashioned yellow cabs there were colorful old buses and rickshaws all intertwined and they were loud!!!! It sounded like every horn was blowing, every piece of metal was banging, every engine was running and every tire was screeching.

Then I started to see other things. Millions of men, women and children it seemed, where everywhere. There were women wrapped in an abundance of colorful saris and men in light long sleeve shits and cotton wrap skirts walking the streets. There were men (very skinny men) pulling rickshaws with their own brute strength. In some human rickshaw (which are suppose to be for one or two people), there were whole families piled on each other and yet those men kept good pace!!! I would look at the faces of the passengers certain I would read pity for their driver on their faces but uh uh!!!!!! There were women sitting and sifting through garbage. There were people sleeping or lying on the sidewalks like it was their own backyard. Some chilling, some eating, some staring, some talking, some shouting, some at their stalls selling all kinds of foods, some waiting for food, some pumping water at the large water pumps, some bathing, some men peeing in open air latrines, dogs… some of this and some of that!! There were cows just walking or sleeping or sitting, or peeing or defecating in the streets and there were piles of garbage everywhere. Just everything and anything, anywhere and everywhere!! To us it seemed like absolute Chaos. To those who lived in this city it was clearly organized Chaos!!!

The cab driver, we noticed would turn off his engine when he got to a stoplight to save gas. It was at one stop, that for the first time, we had to deal with the huge begging situation in India. A young male teenager appeared at my window. His entire left arm was missing and his right hand was cut off from the wrist. He lounged the right stub through the window, right into my face. He kept motioning to his mouth – that he wanted food. At first I felt comfortable in the knowledge that the cab driver would certainly tell him go away, but he just looked at the beggar, looked away, settled into his seat and waited for the traffic light to change! For the entire 10 minutes we sat at that light, the man stayed at my window and he begged us. We had read from my our Lonely Planet guide that the beggars would be relentless and that instead of getting angry or even asking them to leave we should just ignore them. Only when they spot their next potential victim would they leave you alone. Plus locals abhor tourist giving beggars money. I asked Charles what I should do, cause I was steadily getting more and more uncomfortable. In his usual cool and calm way, he smiled and said, “welcome to India”. He gave no further advice.

This was the first begging situation. There were many more instances to come. Once it involved a woman approaching us with a crippled man on her back. This took us off guard, not just because they appeared out of nowhere but rather that they seemed like one as opposed to two separate bodies. His legs were a mangled mess, their bodies were dark and very thin and they both had unusually large eyes. She looked too weak to be carrying this man but interestingly their bodies seemed perfectly aligned, like two puzzle pieces that fit. They followed us for about 5 minutes, all the time pushing their bodies against ours (clearly an intimidation tactic)!!!

Then another time two women carrying babies kept following us, telling me in particular that they saw me yesterday and I promised them I would buy them milk for their babies but I did not. I had never seen these women before of course but I guess this was part of their strategy, because for a second I was wondering if I did indeed made that promise. But I had only been in Kolkotta for one day so far, so that was impossible!!! Anyway, they kept following us and motioning to me to go the small stalls across the street and buy them milk for their baby. They had me confused!!! It was two of them at the same time and they just kept on prodding while their poor babies where crying in their arms. Charles kept on telling me “just keep moving”. That was the key here, you either choose to give them what they want, or you choose to keep on going till they leave.

The final episode I will talk about included a little boy who spotted us on the sidewalk from the middle of traffic. He was cleaning windshields for money. From the time I spotted him and our eyes met, I knew we had become his target!!! Like super boy, he flew through the traffic and was at our side in split seconds. The begging began. Then out of nowhere a little girl appeared looking just as dirty and tiny and undernourished as this little boy. They must have been no more than 6 or 7 years old. He scorned at the girl as she approached, pushing her. He saw us first and we were his for the picking!!!! We tried the usual – we ignored them. But as we were about to cross the street the little girl got out of super boy’s way, went to the back of me, grabbed my right hand and started pulling me with all her might!!! Stop! Stop! Let me go!!! I shouted at her. She let go. At that point I was reaching a breaking point because this was not what I was expecting from India.

Things were not going too well in India. Charles had a high fever and Delhi Belly (the runs), for our first couple days there. Plus to top it all off the Sudder Street area, where we eventually found our hotel, was a holy mess. This is how one book described the area:

Sudder Street is the “centre” of Kolkotta with its many
shabby hotels, cheap but unhygienic eateries,
dilapidated buildings, organized begging rackets, dirty markets and rustic crowds. An experience (good or bad) that cannot be forgotten.

Unhygenic or not, the Bengali food in Culcutta was FANTASTIC but the hotels????!!! After over an hour of searching and looking at hotels that looked like demon asylums, we luckily found a hotel for $45 per night. Way above our budget of 20 bucks a day, but everything else we saw looked like hell had run through it. Charles was not too happy with the price, but I told him if I stayed in any of the other hotels we had seen, I vow to commit suicide and he would be forced to take the rest of the trip on his own. I guess freedom from me did not sound so bad cause he pondered on it for a bit. Alas, I won because the poor thing was just too sick to fight me on it. Hey, once you discount the fact that the hot water went off every morning at 9am, stopped running, period, at 11am and that the lights went off at intervals throughout the day…it was pure luxury!!!

Kolkotta is the city where time has stood still. Massive buildings pre and post-colonial times stand powerfully over the city and there are a ridiculous number of electrical wires going from building to building and every which way. The Victorian Memorial and St. Paul’s cathedral, are stunning pieces or architecture. At the Victorian memorial we learned about the history of Kolkotta from it’s beginning as a port town to the urban madness that it is now. It is a fascinating story to say the least. You can learn a bit about its history here at this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kolkata. It was here that we first came upon the fact that most of the tourist in India, are actually from India.

The people of India….. oh, the people!!! Well we figured that there were Indians as dark or darker in complexion than us, so we would not stand out like in Asia. Well let me tell you. We had the most staring in India and that really took us off guard. At the Victoria Museum lots of the Indian tourist wanted to take pictures, particularly, the men with Charles. They could take pictures in the garden, but not inside the memorial building itself. So what tourist stared doing was following us. If we looked at a painting, they would stand next to us and look at us as opposed to the painting. There were lots of families, so basically the entire family would stand next to us. When we moved on to another art exhibit or museum piece, the entire family would move with us too. At one point, Charles went to sit down, so some just simply sat down next to him and across from him where he sat so they could take a better look at him in his stationary position. Once when I was examining a painting set in glass, I could see the reflection of women and children behind me. I stood there, while they just spoke in their language about me and at times tugged my hair while examining it. It was funny because they seemed to be having an answer and question session – I figure they were saying something like this… “So, this is exhibit #3. We are not sure where it is from but we believe it might be from Africa or the West Indies. We have seen this type before with this type of hair at the cricket matches on TV. Quite a fascinating piece indeed!!!” When I turned around they just casually walked away.

One man did ask where we were from and introduced us to his entire family of women and children. The women and I exchanged compliments. They said they liked my hair, I told them I liked their hair and saris. They followed us to the next exhibit!!

One of the best times we had was at the horse race track. At our hotel the wonderful hotel manager confirmed that indeed there were races on the day we wanted to go. When we got there, the rules said that we had to have closed shoes and long sleeve shirts, neither of which we had on. The man at the door let us in because he said we are guest. When we got in tons of men had short sleeve shirts and slippers. Ha!! So the stands were full with a few thousand men. This was clearly a man’s world.

We caused quite a stir when we arrived and of course I was a female. Anyway we found seats and sat among the crowd waiting for the races to begin. One particular man took us under his wing for some reason and gave us a booklet with a list of races. Then the race began!! Wow!!! We were so excited and were waiting for the horses to bust out onto the tracks. Alas!! No horses. The problem we found out is that the races were not occurring that day in Kolkotta but in Mumbai, a completely different city. And so, the races were being shown live from Mumbai on one small 18-inch television screen in front of which a large crowd was gathered. So basically, all these men at the track were there simply to bet on races that were going on in an entirely different city. Our new friend explained this to us upon seeing our confusion and disappointment.

“Come, come, come” he motioned to us. Why sit there? Come see the races” He found us a seat right in front of the TV screen. Then the fun began!! Another man came up to Charles and told him he should be doing some betting. “A man must bet he said”. And so with everyone looking intently at the process Charles was taught how to bet on horses. We were offered some sort of cigarette they call a bidi or beedi, and chai (tea). They told us the bidi would make us laugh and be happy like them. We passed on the bidi, but took the tea (wink). Soon we had a whole group teaching Charles how to bet while having a good laugh at both his winnings and losses. Many, even those who did not speak English would come to see how he had placed his bets, if he won and if he lost, etc. They all had suggestions on what horse to bet on and why. They all told him how sorry they were when he lost and expressed congrats when he won. Overall they told him he did well for a first timer. It was so exciting!!!!! Charles won $235 roopies, about 15 bucks, breaking even. We had tons of fun with the men. I asked, “Where are the women? “At home”, they said. “Women don’t come here”. Charles as you will see from the picture, shows off his winning tickets with pride.

Charles showing off his winning tickets. Kolkotta 

Things take a long time to do in India. If you think it will take 1 hour, then multiply that by 3 or 4. We were about to learn the hard way, that sometimes you should multiply it by 200.

India was on a path to kill us. Now off to Varanasi!!!!!

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So we met Ruby, his wife and his two sweet little girls ages 7 and 12,on our 12 hour overnight train from Kolkotta to Varanasi . Ruby is Sheik, Ruby is chubby, Rudy is talkative, Ruby is DRUNK!!!! He kept his drink in a coke can and offered Charles some over and over again. Ruby said to us that he would protect us. “If anyone comes to bother you” he said “I will protect you”. “I will take care of them, just come to me. I will keep you safe”. If you are Sheik, how can you drink?”,we ask. Ruby says he is done with the old ways. He does not wear the turban and does not grow a beard and he drinks and he likes to have fun. Ruby calls his brother on his cell phone. He says “Monique, talk to my brother”. I take the phone and say “hello”. His brother says “hello” and starts laughing uncontrolably. Rubys takes the phone from me. He does not speak English ” Ruby says. He and his brother have a good laugh in their language. Then Ruby calls his sister. “Monique, talk to my sister”!!!!. “Hello to Ruby’s sister” I say. She says “Hello”, then silence. I say “hello, how are you.  Is this Ruby’s sister?” Dead silence. I think she got cut off. Ruby takes back the phone. “She cannot speak English” he says. He and his sister begin to talk. They have a good laugh.

Ruby says “Charles and Monique, do not eat the food they sell on this train. It is very, very, very bad. You must eat what my wife has made. It is good food” “No, no we say, we cannot do that” Ruby insist. His wife nods that there is enough. We are scared of Dehli Belly but we cannot be rude. We accept. “In the morning you will have breakfast with us. Not this bad tasting train food. It is not good”.

Finally everyone settles in. There were three beds on either side of the walls of our cubicle. Think bunk bed but instead of two beds, there are three. When the beds were unlatched from the walls for sleep, you could not sit up so you have no choice but to lay down. When one wakes in the morning one has no choice but to lay there, until the person in the other bunks comes down and closes their bed. If you are on the top bunk, you are so close to the the train roof, you can kiss it. I sleep with the pillow over my head because Ruby cannot sleep. He turns on music from his cell phone. He puts the volume really loud and plays Indian Music. He sings along really loud too. This went on for about two hours or so!!!!! Not one person on the train complains.

Next morning everyone wakes up. I am in the middle bunk. Charles is on top kissing the train roof. I have to wait for Ruby’s wife on the bottom bunk to wake up so I can get down. She is fast asleep. Ruby and his daughters have already woken up on the other side of the cubicle. He is sitting up with a sheet over his head, with only his face showing. His eyes are closed and he holds a book in his hand.  He is in deep meditation. Then breakfast begins to pass for sale. “Omlette, omlette, chai tea, chai tea”, the porter say as he passes with stacks of food and hot pots of tea. We don’t buy any so as not to offend Ruby, but we are hungry…starving. But we do not want to offend Ruby and wife by buying any of the passing food. Ruby’s wife eventually wakes up. Time is passing. She is not getting out the food for breakfast. We are hungry but cannot buy food.

Our stop is about another hour away. Then it is time to get ready to go.  Finally Ruby say “Monique and Charles your stop is about half an hour away”. Then as the breakfast guy passes Ruby buys breakfast for his whole family.  YEP, he buys breakfast!!!!! We were too embarased to buy for ourselves. We watch them eat breakfast!!!

We get to our train stop. We say our goodbyes to the family and Ruby, who is no longer drunk, is now as clam as a cucumber. Does he remember that he told us he was going to give us breakfast? Maybe he was too drunk to remember. Maybe his wife could remind him? We get off the train in Varanasi. We are starving. Ruby stays outside by the train door as the train pulls away. He is heading to Punjab and will be on the train for another 24 hours. He waves us a hearty goodbye.

Goodbye Ruby!!!!!! Now where the hell do we find breakfast????????????

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IMG_1974, originally uploaded by nycduncan.

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You have to understand that by the time I had this mental breakdown, we had been literally walking in cow and sometimes dog faeces for days. Try as you may, this could not be avoided because the cows roamed and did their business when and wherever they chose to. The faeces were not cleaned up because the cows were holy and what came from their bodies I guess was holy too. There were also open sewers and flies having a feast on its contents. We might as well have been putting on our swimsuits and diving into a pool of faeces. We might as well have been grabbing piles of it and putting it up our nose. We might as well have been taking off our flip flops and squishing it between our toes. We constantly felt dirty and there was no getting away from it. To top it off, you got tired of the noises, and dodging of cows, people and traffic.
At first I have to admit, I had an extremely difficult time eating in India. I would just go hungry for as long as I could in Varanasi…but when starvation hit, I would gulp down food like a crazy person. Besides once you got past the faeces, and general atmosphere, you could enjoy the fantastic food. In the end the only place we ate was at our hotel restaurant cause seemed the only place where we might not get the runs and again the food was magical.

Anyway take it from me, in India, you learn constipation is a blessing, diarrhea a curse. You find yourself having Diarrhea and Constipation conversations with complete strangers without any shame. Conversations go something like this –

“So, have you been using the bathroom?” No, I have been constipated for a about a week and a half now”. Oh really, well you know I have some charcoal pills here, they work very well”. “Really, well someone gave me some castor oil and it did the trick’. Wanna exchange some of my castor oil for your charcoal? “Sure, so tell me has it been coming out in small or large bits?” Oh it varies but most times……nothing or everything…never in between!!!!!” Hmmmm, so…… when are you heading back to New Zealand? ……..and so it goes…..

With all this though, the trip to Varanasi was worth it, if only to visit the Ghats. We loved waking up in the early mornings and heading out to the Ghats to catch the sunrise and see people give their morning offerings and prayers. With all the noises in India, do you know that at the Ghats it was always so quite? There is peacefulness at the Ghats and everyone is there for a purpose. From the hippies with flowers in their hair, to the Indians simply greeting each other and stopping for morning chats, I think in the pictures that we took you can see that mystical peacefulness coming through.
It does not seem surprising that Varanasi is known as the place in India ‘where people come to die’! It may seem like a morbid statement but this is true!! For centuries, thousands have landed in this city to spend their final days. It is believed that if a person dies in Varanasi—defined as the old city between the rivers Varuna and Assi—he will be redeemed of all sins by Lord Shiva on the cremation pyre.

So here it was that all day one is subject to viewing cremations as well as men carrying bodies wrapped in colored or white cloths down the winding and narrow lanes on homemade stretchers . I had viewed this scene many times on television and figured it would not faze me, but I must admit, there is something disconcerting about seeing death pass you at eye level at such regular intervals. I could not believe that these were really bodies!!! Charles and I never got to see this, but it is not uncommon to see a body floating down the water of the Ghanges.

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IMG_2119, originally uploaded by nycduncan.

This picture was taken in Jaipur where the bombs went off about a month later. This a wonderful family we met visiting from London.

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We loved Udaipur. We bought tons of jewelery here and even had some custom made. It was ridiculously cheap.

 Ajay and his dad, in picture above, made our rings – Udaipur.

We stayed in a small and quaint town at a beautiful hotel right on the famous Lake Pichola. From our hotel grounds we could see The Lake Palace Hotel where Octopussy, the James Bond movie was filmed.

The big joke is that because Octopussy was shot here, practically EVERY restaurant shows Octopussy EVERY Single DAY without fail at 7:30pm. I repeat, Every Single Day at 7:30pm!!!!!! No other movie.

Anyway word spread about us through the town pretty quickly. One day we told some people that I was from the West Indies (for those who do not know, people from the Caribbean are called West Indians because Christopher Columbus thought he had found India…. silly!!!!) and Charles from America. By day two people started calling out to us as we passed – “hey West Indies and America”!!

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But the other side you see of India is the rolling hills and beautiful desert expanses. There are fields and fields of wheat and now and again you would see women in the colorful saris walking through them. The contrast between the wheat color and the sari colors are just so beautiful. And we saw camels and old temples everywhere. Oh, it was exquisite particularly at sunset or sunrise. It was at those moments that all was right in the world and all was definitely right with India.

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