McLeod Ganj: Day 49
Okay, I think I maybe forgot how to count. Let's assume that this actually is day 49, as I state (though does that make sense, if day 1 was a Monday? But now I changed the blog to actually reflect the real time, so it might have changed all the days as well. OCD alert!) and move on with it.
So, here is a recap. On Sunday I actually did see the new Batman movie, which I really liked. Then I got on the train to Agra! I was in an air-con car, which is far swankier than the sleeper class--not only does it have air conditioning, it also comes with bedding! I was befriended by my berth-mate, who was in the army. That's pretty much all I know about him. Ah, the language barrier.
23 hours later I was in Agra. Agra was pretty horrible. I saw all the requisite sites, of course, but my hotel was a dump and there's nothing to do in Agra but shop and get hassled, and since I'm carrying everything around with me for the next three weeks, I'm not really into the former. So that really left "get hassled" as the only activity besides sight-seeing. And even my auto-rickshaw driver hassled me, this time for not wanting to go to the Mughal Art Emporium. But! A big shout-out to Ankit and Aditya for hanging out with me all day on Wednesday. I met them on the bus to Fatehpur Sikri in the morning and then we were on the same train in the afternoon. Agra to Delhi was that much more bearable.
Next stop: Amritsar. Amritsar was wonderful. The city itself seemed like nothing special, and I missed Jallianwala Bagh, which is a shame. But the Golden Temple was in some ways even more impressive than the Taj. Certainly shinier. Actually, it was so bright that it was hard to look at. Somehow, I also made it to the border-closing ceremony in the afternoon. I got there via shared jeep. Twelve people, one jeep. We also stopped at this crazy temple that I don't know the name of--it had a hall of mirrors and a cave full of water that you had to walk through. Unfortunately, I felt it was inappropriate to take photos inside, so you will have to go to Amritsar and find it. At the border ceremony itself, there was a lot of goose-stepping, dancing, shouting, and loud music being played over speakers from the Border Security Force HQ, all to compete with the same coming from the other side. If I hadn't believed I was about to die of heatstroke, it might have been fun. This is probably the closest I will get to Pakistan for quite some time.
This morning I got on the 6:30 train to Pathankot, where I switched to a bus to McLeod Ganj. On the train I found yet another bunch of friendly people, who spoke only Punjabi, but the old man helped me get my backpack on the luggage rack, the old lady gave me parathas--a true godsend, considering the next time I ate was at 3 p.m.--and their grandson shook my hand. When they got off the train, the old man patted my head. I finally arrived in McLeod Ganj at 4 p.m. The town is very laid back, Tibetan food is extremely appealing (tofu! dumplings! broth!), I'm signed up for a dumpling-making class in the morning, and it's cold! I'm carrying my fleece! Tomorrow after dumplings I will go to the temple! If I didn't have a six-month visa I might never come home!
Mumbai: Day 44
Last day! A mix of nervousness and excitement. 7:40 train to Agra--the Punjab Mail. And in a couple days, the 4:10 from there to Amritsar--Amritsar Express. I Google News-ed Amritsar, because someone told me there was some kind of unrest there, but nothing. Instead I came up with this short story from the Atlantic:
"Amritsar." By the way, how did I ever get away with coming here before seeing The Darjeeling Limited? I'm making a pledge to watch more movies. Of late I've seen Do The Right Thing and The Departed.
This was a good week. On Thursday I went to lunch at Pizza Hut with Pratidnya. Pizza Hut is her favorite restaurant and the fact that I agreed to go really pleased her. Here, it's actually quasi-upscale, with menus and waiters and air conditioning. We shared a medium "Country Feast" pizza, which involved corn. Even though I've been here for six weeks, I keep forgetting what capsicum means, so I wind up with green peppers even though I don't like them. Before we went to Pizza Hut, we had fresh lime juice at a "juice centre'' across Azad Maidan. It was delicious.
On Friday I went out with Pratidnya again, this time to Badshah, where we had falooda. It was probably the most delicious thing I've had here. There's a big scoop of kulfi in the middle, and then it's covered with an orange milky substance (mango milk? who knows) and pistachios and noodles made of agar. It's like a cross between bubble tea and a milkshake. Then I went to the afternoon session, where all my kids gave me really sweet going away cards, and Kajal brought samosas and we had a party. I almost cried. If I could scan these cards and show them to you, I would, but you will just have to wait. Komal kissed my hand. Krishna gave me a flower. Tirupathi made it clear, somehow, that he thought the Taj Mahal was stupid and that I should not go back to America.
And yesterday was the last hurrah! I stored a suitcase at Marika's place in Chowpatty and we meandered around until dinner at Ming's Palace. It was so good to eat something that did not taste remotely Indian. I ate about ten shu-mai--the first animal protein I've had since getting here. I mean, unless you count milk. Does milk count? Anna? I stocked up on crackers and dried fruit for the train journey. I went home and went to bed. I woke up and ate breakfast. I bought a lock and chain for my backpack on the train. Now maybe I will go see Dark Knight.
Expect scant blogging over the next couple of weeks. Wish me luck and keep your fingers crossed.
Mumbai: Day 38
Without further ado, I unveil to you a tentative itinerary. And it goes like this:
Mumbai-Agra (train)
Agra-Amritsar (train)
Amritsar-Dharamsala (bus)
Dharamsala-Shimla (bus)
Shimla-Jodhpur (train)
Jodhpur-Udaipur (bus)
Udaipur-Bundi (bus)
Bundi-Ajmer (bus)
Ajmer-Pushkar (bus)
Pushkar-Jaipur (bus)
Jaipur-Mumbai (train)
Mumbai-New York (teleport)
Insane? Yes, but it covers all the bases, including: the greatest monument in the world, the legacies of the British Raj and partition, Tibet in exile, and gemstones. Just kidding, I can't afford any of those. I'm not worried about my itinerary, if only because being here has made me a flexible, go with the flow kind of person. Kind of. So if I get tired or run out of time, I'll cancel a segment of the trip and not freak out about it. Just you watch.
Okay, now back to my humdrum real life. On Saturday I took the train up to Bandra with a friend and went shopping. The train was nowhere near as thrilling as I had expected it to be. Coming home was slightly more chaotic (rush hour), but still not the death trap I'd feared. Then again, I was riding in the ladies' first class car. That's a Bloch-Wehba, riding in style. The most exciting thing I found in Bandra? Mexican food. But I couldn't bring myself to order it. I had a gut feeling it wouldn't suffice--I mean, "masala quesadilla"? Puh-leeze. Channa paneer it is. Then I watched The Departed on television. From what I've heard, that's a movie I don't have to be ashamed of liking. Sunday was eggs florentine, a walk around the neighborhood, and Standard Operating Procedure. So much for not reading "work books'' while on "vacation.''
Before I forget, I've noted some new Indian-isms. Heard recently: "Nakshatra, shift back, there is a lot of place.'' Shift=move. Place=room. Also, when meaning "one at a time,'' people usually say, ''one-one.'' So, "One-one student will come to the board and write the word.'' Additionally, where Americans say "Six into forty-two is seven'' to mean division, Indians often say ''Six into seven is forty-two,'' meaning multiplication. You can imagine how complicated this makes my job.
I've been feeling marginally guilty about the amount of television I've been watching, but I've also gained a new appreciation for commercials. There's one for a matrimony website called Jeevasanthi, where the father follows his daughter around with a turban and plops it on her dates' heads to see if they're
''the one.'' Dad, if you did this, maybe I'd have a boyfriend, but probably not. I like you just the way you are. Thank you for never coming on dates with me. Also, thank you YouTube, for allowing me to share this commercial with you.
Mumbai: Day 35
I just finished lunch at a new-to-me restaurant, Bagdadi, which, to my knowledge, is not at all Iraqi. It's a no-frills establishment (who am I, a Time Out Mumbai writer? Oh, the internship possibilities), by which I mean, Formica booths that you share with strangers. My strangers were three French boys eating chicken biryani and whining about the cockroach climbing on the wall. Everyone, even the waiter, looked at me funny when I ordered a nan after having almost completed my veg. biryani. I mean, nan is for mopping up juices, and I didn't have any gravy on my plate. But I couldn't resist. The nan was approx. 16 inches in diameter, just out of the oven, with giant blistery holes, like a grilled pizza crust. The best part was the list of rules like "Do not sit too long at the table" and "Do not argue with restaurant employees" on the wall, with nary a trace of irony. Cost of lunch: 37 rupees.
The past two days have been more than hectic at work. Wednesday afternoon, the co-teacher at the afternoon center called in sick, but didn't leave a lesson plan or any backup activity, so Kajal didi ran back and forth between the classes while I was in charge of our class. Lesson plan: words ending in -tch, adding and subtracting mixed numbers. Then, yesterday morning, Pratidnya didi had to run interviews at the university where she lectures, so she left me in charge of teaching the kids about syllables and the concepts of "fat" and "thin." In the afternoon we brought the kids on a bus to a private school in Fort. Sixty children, one bus, three teachers--you do the math. I almost fell over when the guy made a sharp turn.
Now I have a nasty, snotty cold, but I think a weekend of spicy food and sudafed should clear it up. It's been brought to my attention that the cereal-like smell in my room might not be the 1 kilo jar of sugarfree muesli after all, but the scent of mold. Hm. Good thing I will soon be off to higher and drier climes.
Mumbai: Day 32
Sorry for the lengthy absence. It has been full of technical difficulties of all sorts. I am feeling better now, knock wood. Also, there are some photos up on Facebook (not all of them, yet). Do they look super-dark to you? They do to me. Maybe that's just this computer. Let me know, not that there's anything I can do about it right now. I even put captions so you know what you're looking at!
Saturday was by far the best day I've had since I got here. I went on this lengthy walk, and here, I made a map of it for you:
link. I started around 10:30, by going up to Kalbadevi, where I saw lots of temples, and took some pictures of cows hanging around on the street. By noon I was near Mohammed Ali Rd, the epicenter of a Muslim neighborhood, listening to the call to prayer. On Mohammed Ali Rd I saw a taxi back over a crippled man sitting behind it, which was terrifying. Luckily the man was alright, but I was pretty shaken up (I bet he was, too). Then a different man, in the market area, yelled at me because he didn't want to have his picture taken, and I was like, "What? I didn't want to take your picture anyway, old man," and I left and wandered up a street that was full of tile and over to Chor Bazaar, also known as Thieves' Market. From there I walked all the way over to the bottom of Tardeo, where I stopped for two samosas, and then to Kemp's Corner, where I perused the cookbooks in Crossword Bookstore for a long while. Then I ate an ice cream cone (double scoop: mango and tender coconut) as I walked past the embassies on Nepean Sea Road in Malabar Hill, the swankiest neighborhood in South Mumbai. I was looking for
Banganga Tank in Walkeshwar, but I didn't have a map, so I just followed my nose. Then a man asked me if I was trying to find Banganga Tank, so I said yes, and I followed him, and he showed me where it was. Then I said I wanted to take the bus back to Colaba. So he asked me, "Hotel timepass*?" To which I said "No, sorry." When I got home and took off my kurta I realized that I had a tiny, v-shaped sunburn where the neck opening was. Total distance: 7.03 mi (thanks, Google!).
*Here, "timepass" is a word that basically means "something you do to kill time." The other day, Pratidnya didi told the kids in the morning session, "When you come in, don't do timepass. Read the charts on the wall." There are lots of syntactical oddities in Indian English that I may or may not be adopting. I do know that my own grammar is not what it used to be. Anyway, I also knew what the man in Walkeshwar was getting at, and we were not on the same page. But Banganga Tank was very cool.
Okay, other things. I only have a week and a half left of work! What will I do without the rigmarole? Sit down. Stand up. Sit up straight. Listen to didi. Raise your hand. Raise your hand. Akash, sit down. Madhu, raise your hand next time. Akash, I said sit down. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Why do I still hear people talking? If mangoes cost fifteen rupees per kilo, and Praveen buys two kilos, should we add or multiply? What is a mixed number? Is seven odd or even? How do we spell photosynthesis? What do plants need to grow? Raise your hand. Sonali, don't hit her. Sanjivani, wake up. Gaurav, stop dancing. Where's your homework? No field trip for you, then.
Truthfully, this is all very entertaining, but completely exhausting. Kajal didi wants me to stay longer, and I considered it, but I have this one-way ticket to Agra and a bunch of things to see. In that vein, I have a question! If you had three weeks to travel in India, which would you want to see? The Taj Mahal doesn't count, because that's a given. And since I'm going to Agra anyway, I've reconciled myself to not seeing the south this time around. Anyway:
a.
desertsb.
mountainsc. the closing of the border with Pakistan (bet you can guess how I feel about this one)
d.
citiese.
ashramsf.
ancient cavesg. none of the above
h. all of the above
Finally, good news: I ate another veg cheese toast today, and no sign of physical distress.
Labels: banganga, mahatma, perverts, trains
Mumbai: Day 26
It's a good thing that I caught up on my daily journaling for days 24-25 this morning because my brain is so fried that I might not remember anything otherwise. I blame this brain condition on a combination of the weather and the sandwich that I ate for lunch yesterday (more on this later). The good news? The team of gastroenterologists living under my bed (they say hi, Mom) tell me I don't have dysentery. Just a headache and flu-like symptoms.
On Tuesday I woke up and it was monsooning again, so I caught a cab to work. As soon as I turned the corner I saw that the door was locked, so I called Pratidnya, who told me that class was cancelled because all the trains were flooded (she lives in the suburbs). Of course, by then my cab was gone. So I hitched a ride on the bus back to Colaba and spent the morning drinking coffee, reading, and making to-do lists. Then I went to see Made of Honour with a friend, which satisfied a craving for silliness.
On Wednesday it was reported that 2 people drowned in the flooding. This city is entirely incapable of dealing with its weather. The combination of hundreds of centimeters of rain with high tide is just nightmarish. I'm no structural engineer, but maybe this is an example of how letting 16 million people live on a tiny spit of reclaimed land below sea level is a bad idea. Just wondering. The afternoon teacher, Kajal, keeps warning me that now's the time to get sick. Every day in the paper there are articles about how to avoid leptospirosis (wear closed-toe shoes--impossible) and how to keep your hair dry in the monsoon (just inane). Everyone warns against eating raw fruits and vegetables. I may well return with rickets.
Which brings me to the above-mentioned sandwich. On my way back from work yesterday morning, I stopped at the Jai Ganesh snack stand and ordered a "veg cheese toast." Veg cheese toast: two slices of white bread spread with green chili, between which are thinly-sliced onion, potato, beet, tomato, pepper, and cucumber, and a generous grating of cheese, are buttered and placed on a grill. After a few minutes the sandwich is pulled off, dabbed with more butter and chili, covered in another grating of cheese, cut into nine squares, and eaten, standing, at the Jai Ganesh counter. All this for a mere 18 rupees (<50 cents).
After my afternoon class, when Kajal told me I looked washed out, I kept thinking: please don't let it be the cheese toast. It's the best snack I've found! At dinner I was told my eyes were glassy, was sent to bed, and slept for 12 hours. This morning I called in sick. When I went out for breakfast and coffee to clear my head, I was sidetracked by two men at the Gateway of India who wanted pictures with me "for their collections." Sure, whatever. Now I have to go back to bed so that I can teach fractions this afternoon. Maybe this is called "under the monsoon"?
Monday's mystery sweet is called a kachori. Hold that thought.
Labels: bread, engineers, monsoon, rain
