Offending people left and right.

It sounds like I'm totally trashing India. Ok, I am. I think I've been too honest. Maybe I need to keep some things to myself, like I did in the other places I've visited. It's getting better though.

The reality is, everyone told me NOT to go to Delhi, but I was stubborn becaues I wanted to see the historical parts of the city. They told me NOT to visit during the monsoon season, but there wasn't much flexibility (in my opinion) for my dates to travel here based on the other things I was doing. They told me the South of India is much nicer in general, but I'm in North India. So, the point is, I can't say I wasn't warned about these things.

But, I still don't think any amount of advice/research can prepare you for this place.

I don't know how many more cultural experiences I can absorb.

Mentally, physically, or emotionally.

Groan.

My flight from Kathmandu to Bangkok has been cancelled. And my travel agent is leaving it to me to deal with the Royal Nepal Airlines and reschedule it. Boo.

Another view of Shima and the Himalayas.

Shimla

Former summer capital of the Raj, and honeymoon destination for all Indians. That church is the second-oldest in India.

Monkeys Everywhere.

Think about the squirrels you see all day, every day. Now, turn them into monkeys. You're in India.

Yesterday, on one rooftop I saw one monkey eating corn on the cob, a second trying to eat a rubber glove, and a third playing with chewing gum.

Oh, so THIS is culture shock...

Now, I get it. Things are improving. Emma and I are taking an overnight public bus (the only option besides a private taxi) tomorrow evening to Dalhousie. Then, a few days on we'll go to Manali, then back to Delhi for a flight to Kathmandu. If all goes according to plan, that is. And, well, that is unlikely.

Train Journey North.

The Himalayn Queen, after everyone got off the train.

The tiny train from Kalka to Shimla. One of four narrow-gauge railways in the world.

Super green thanks to the serious monsoon.

Some hills and valleys.

Jama Masjid and a view of Old Delhi from the minaret.

Paharganj. The backpacker road in Delhi.

I did NOT stay here. My hotel was actually quite peaceful. Otherwise, I really would have had a breakdown.

Incense and Excrement.

Ah, the scent of India.

(I have to give Emma credit for this observation.)

Environment.

The environmental situation in India is absolutely alarming. I do not understand how people can live like this. From the train, I saw some of the most bizarre and disturbing things I've ever seen. I won't tell you all of them but imagine a family of pigs rooting around a stinking garbage dump on the banks of a stagnant, green, fuzzy cesspool. Nearby an elephant, of all things, is scratching itself on a brick wall. A couple of women are fetching water in buckets from the cesspool and another few people are relieving themselves a few few feet away.

Delhi is seriously polluted. I studied these things and nothing I read ever prepared me for this kind of squalor.

Kalka to Shimla

Arrived in Kalka and switched to a "toy train" that winds up the hillsides of the Himalayas for ANOTHER six hours. At least there was a tiny bit of extra room on this train, and there was entertainment - the mountains! So green. The fresh air - such a relief. Still a long journey, considering we only traveled 90 kilometers, but much better than the first half.

Himalayan Queen...I guess you could call it that.

All right. Here come the standard travel stories of India.

We caught the train with no problems (except getting hassled by the taxi driver for more money, of course) but found our seats were not what we booked. Or rather, not what we thought we booked, which was 2nd class non-AC. We were in a "chair car" which is a car full of padded benches. Seats are assigned but four or five people will push their way onto one bench made for three. This is not unusual or rude, it's just the way it is. And there are people standing in every possible bit of space. Six miserable hours of this. Six a.m. to 11:45 a.m. when we arrived in Kalka.

The ticket was $7. Eh?

Urban animals.

Cows.
Monkeys.
Goats.
Donkeys.
Horses.
Chipmunks.
Pigeons.
Lizards.

All of these spotted today.

Himilayan Queen.

We also succeeded in purchasing train tickets and Emma, Jason and I are all going to Shimla on the 6 a.m. Himilayan Queen tomorrow morning.

Today. Some success.

Jason and I managed to see the Jama Masjid and the Red Fort (although it wasn't easy finding these things). I'll get some pictures up some time soon.

Encouragement

I met Emma, an English woman, this morning who is on her fourth trip to India. I may travel north with her to Shimla tomorrow, or go south with Jason, the married American. Today, I'll figure it out. I've been told not to judge India based on Delhi, and I think I should persevere. Emma said the hardest thing she has ever done is travel in India alone - and she lived to tell about it. So, there's that to consider.

"Why on Earth did I come to this hellhole?"

So, I'm learning that it's common to have the worst day of your life when you arrive in India. Especially when alone. Some people learn to love it and come back for the rest of their lives.

Tomorrow.

I was going to fly to Kathmandu. But, I just met an American guy here at the hotel who is meeting his wife in a few days and basically had the same kind of day today as I had yesterday. I think we'll try to actually see something tomorrow. Safety in numbers, etc. Then, maybe I'll go to Kathmandu on Wednesday. We'll see.

You can't trust anyone. Part II.

Directions. You don't even want to try to ask for directions anywhere. I've gotten three different answers from three different people in three minutes. When you are somewhere you don't know you have to ask questions, and believe it or not, the streets aren't exactly signposted clearly. Plus, when you can't even trust a person you are paying to transport you what are you supposed to do?

You can't trust anyone.

This is the main problem. For example:

Rickshaw drivers: I've had two take me the wrong place and refuse to take me to the right place. I've had one who claimed not to have enough change to give back to me, so essentially was double what he should have been paid. I had another, from the supposedly official pre-paid taxi booth first insist I didn't need to pay the person working in the booth, that I could just pay him. I had to practically stick my head in the booth to get the person working to pay attention to me, then I paid that person (who again didn't have correct change so I was overcharged), who gave the receipt to the driver - the same guy who tried to get me to avoid the booth in the first place. He drove me back, directly, but upon arrival told me I had to pay him again, and I said, "no, I don't have to pay you again, I've already paid, you have the receipt." And he said, "no you give me the slip or you give me the money, if you don't have the slip you have to give me the money." and we argued back and forth until finally he said, "oh yes, here is the slip." and drove off.

I can't deal with this every single time I need to get somewhere.

Today wasn't better.

It's hard to say if it was as bad, or worse. I gave myself a big pep talk in the morning, but I was discouraged pretty quickly.

Changing Hemispheres.

It's the height of summer. The one-day swich could have an affect on the body. I'm trying to take it easy.

Dangerous territory.

First of all, you have to watch your toes. Bicycle rickshaws, auto rickshaws, motorcycles, cars, cabs, bikes, people, cows, dogs. Then, if it's not cow shit blocking your path, it's dog shit, if it's not dog shit, it's human shit. Maybe it's blood. It might be that a cow just relieved itself, or that you have to dodge some massive glob of phlegm from a vendor (aiming for the street of course), but there's also possibly a cripple, or a woman who puts a naked baby down in the street in front of you so you'll take notice. Banana peels, garbage of all sorts squashing below if you don't watch out.

Delhi. I wish I had a friend.

It's been a rough five or six hours. I think India does this to people, not just me. Walked to Connaught Place, got harrassed by a "helpful" person every ten minutes. As soon as I got rid of one, another one came up to "practice his English" and direct me to the "official" tourist office. I couldn't even sit in a coffee shop and look at a map without getting hassled. These people aren't threatening, and I don't feel unsafe, but they are annoying.

Yeah, I know the book says to get over it, that this IS India, but that is easier said that done.

And I'm exhausted, haven't had any sleep, so perhaps tomorrow will be better.

En route to India.

I'm in the first-class lounge at the airport in Mauritius. I guess they took pity on me and my long layover (9 p.m. to 3 a.m.). Free food. Free booze. Free internet (but I can't access gmail for some reason). Television. Showers. Magazines in five languages.

Awesome.

I'll have to go back to Cape Town.

The things I didn't do:

1. Swimming with sharks
2. Whale Watching
3. Hiking Cape Point
4. Robben Island
5. Museums

A combination of bad weather, poor planning, budget restrictions and accommodating other people interfered.

Wine country.

I'm a little worse for wear today.

We tasted around 20-25 different wines yesterday. At each place you go to choose five or six wines to taste. Here are my favorites:

Simonsig - Kaaps Vonkel (champagne)

Fairview/Spice Route/Goats do Roam/Agostinelli - Fairview Voignier, Spice Route Voignier

Dieu Donne Vineyards - the setting was gorgeous (despite the rain) but I poured out most of my wine

Moreson/Pinehurst - Moreson Chenin Blanc, Moreson Pinotage

India. Saturday.

I'm keeping my flight scheduled as planned. The hotel I booked in Delhi is sending a driver. It should be easy. When I arrive, I'll figure out what to do for the next few weeks.

Stellenbosch.

Today. One van, four wineries, six Belgians, two Irish girls, and countless (?) glasses of wine. We start at 10:30 a.m.

Penguins = Cute + Stinky

Kirstenbosch

The clouds move quickly up here.

View from the Summit

It improved. But, frankly, climbing the mountain in the fog was probably a good thing - there were some scary moments.

Ascending Table Moutain

Table Mountain

We climbed this. Look to the far right. At the highest park you can make out a little stub. That's the cable car station. Basically, we climbed straight up, zig zagged a bit, walked along the sheer face to the caves, then turned back and hiked around the mountainside, reaching the summit via the Atlantic side of Table Mountain.

Should I swim with sharks?

Great Whites. For real. You get into a cage, and then snorkel around in the cage while they lure the sharks.

Penguins!

Today, also visited the penguins at Boulders Beach. Duncan, from Perth, and Colin, from Calgary and I split the cost of a rental car and drove around the Cape Peninsula.

Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens

Definitely the best Botanical Garden I've ever seen - and it's all indigenous plants. The backdrop is Table Mountain. You'll see what I mean, soon.

Table Mountain. We did it.

Hiked to the top of Table Mountain via the "India Window" route - walked along the sheer face to two hidden caves and did some serious rock climbing (for me). Our guide, Riann, was fantastic. He is going to explore uncharted territory in the Amazon in a few months and wrote an adventure novel that will be published in SA in September. That is cool.

I owe you pictures but you'll have to wait.

Too tired to bother with it tonight. Tomorrow, I hope.

Vegetarian Restaurants.

So many in Cape Town...these things make me happy to be here.

Tomorrow, I am hiking Table Mountain

Hiking with Leah, a public school teacher living in New York city. She conducts middle school and high school orchestras. I'm impressed.

What am I doing with all these white people?

I'm starting to get used to it. Cape Town has all kinds of people. The hostel has mostly people like me.

I'm in Cape Town, y'all.

I don't have any photos for you yet. But, let me tell you that the ones you've seen of Cape Town do not do it justice. The geography is stunning. Absolutely stunning.

Mamelodi Sundowns!

Went to the Mamelodi Sundowns game last night. It was a disappointing 2-1 loss to AmaZulu. But, a lot of fun anyway. The tickets are 20 Rand. That's $3!! This is a game of the people.

I gave these two to my friend Inno.

I've been thinking about Hazel.

The person we visited in the hospital passed away yesterday.

I didn't know if I should post this, but, it happened. The family is doing ok. The funeral is on Saturday, but I'm leaving tomorrow for Cape Town, so I won't be here.

Success at the U.S. Consulate.

I have 23 new visa pages added to my passport!

Gandhi, My Father

I watched "Gandhi, My Father" at the cinema (in the biggest mall in South Africa) last week.

Here is what happened:

"I would like one ticket to Gandhi, My Father, at noon please."
"One ticket?"
"Yes, one ticket?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure, one ticket."
"This is an Indian movie."
"I know."
"So, you want one ticket to an Indian movie. It's not in English."
"Well, does it have subtitles in English?"
"Let me check...yes."
"Ok. That's fine."
"All right. One ticket?" (She laughs and shakes her head)
"Yes."

"Do you understand now, Katie, the reason we have faith in God?"

Yesterday, Sunday, we visited one of the church members in the Mamelodi Hospital. The Mamelodi hospital is public hospital for those who can't afford private care, and don't have any kind of health insurance. I've never been in a place like this. I never visit anyone in the hospital to begin with (yeah, I know, I work in one).

I don't want to go into details about the conditions of the patient but he didn't look well. Frankly, there aren't many details to give because he had only been seen once by a doctor since being admitted on Thursday morning. Once.

So, we discussed this after leaving the hospital and it was explained to me that the faith of people of Mamelodi has to be strong - because they don't, they can't, have faith in anything else.

My last week in Mamelodi.

I'm leaving Friday for Cape Town. Before then I'm doing the following:

Going to Jo'burg to get extra pages added to my passport.
Visiting the snakes at the terrarium in Pretoria.
Seeing the Mamelodi Sundowns play with Innocent and Brenda.
Climbing to the top of the big hill near the church to get a good view of all of Mamelodi.
Taking as many pictures as possible.
Completing the first issue of the Powerhouse newsletter (well, hopefully).

Things are out of my hands.

During the church service yesterday we had a quick graduation for my students. They gave me gifts! A traditional African dress, sandals, and a beaded necklace. Beautiful. I'm wearing the dress and the sandals today. They also tried to put the dress on me during the service, I nearly had to get on my knees begging them to stop.

Someone asked me the other day what my most embarrassing moment has been so far. I had a list, but this might make it to the top. Oh my.

Farmland.

Limpopo is chock full of intenstive agriculture. Oranges, Avocados, Papayas, Bananas, Sweet Potatoes, all kinds of trees, etc.

Natural.

Sugarcane. Not as sweet as you would think. You have to bite off a hunk of fiber, then suck out the juice, then spit out the fiber. Fun.

Then you beat it. Seriously beat it.

Step 6: Beat it with the special pap beater. Each pap-maker has their own rhythm and technique. It's a workout.

Step 7: Wait awhile.

Step 8: Dish it out. Usually this is done with a saucer, the pap is lifted out with the saucer, then flipped out onto the plate.

If you want to eat it African-style you have to use your hands. Your right hand actually. Grab a chunk of pap, roll it between your fingers to make a small ball, mash into it whatever else is on your plate and eat.

They told me it wasn't likely to explode but it looks dangerous.

After you wait awhile.

Step Four: Whisk with special Pap whisk (like Elizabeth is doing here, you roll the stick between the palms of your hands)
Step Five: Cover and wait awhile

Pap. Oh Pap.

Step One: Boil Water

Step Two: Add Mealie Meal (African-syle cornmeal)

Step Three: Wait a while

English Lesson.

Jersey = Sweater
Robot = Traffic Light
Cauliflower = Broccoli
Van = Truck
Bus = Van
Bus = Bus

Zion City Moria

We passed by Zion City Moria, headquarters of the Zion Christian Church (Zed-C-C), the largest religion in South Africa. Millions of people from all over the country make a pilgrimmage here every Good Friday. From what I understand it's basically a cult, but you could find out for yourself.

As we get into the mountains...

On the way to Tzaneen

Seeing these cyclists really made me want to get on a bike. In South Africa there are no bike lanes. There are either shoulders wide enough to funtion as a second lane, or nothing at all. There were a ton of people cycling this race...but I didn't get too many good pictures.

Other people's friends and relatives.

We spent all of Friday visiting Vincent and Gloria's friends and relatives in Tzaneen and Giyani. That meant we were fed. Pap. I was asked, "Sister, why do you have so little pap? Eat." You can't explain that you've already have a big helping of some other woman's pap. You just have to eat more pap. Oh my.

Limpopo

We're taking a break from Mamelodi to visit Limpopo for a few days. We're near Tzaneen. Today I've seen mango, avocado, banana, and lichi trees and sugarcane in the back garden. I've never seen any of these things before. We'll be driving some today and hopefully I'll have some pictures soon (taken with my new camera - have to send the broken one back to the U.S. to be fixed).

The Missionaries. My friends.

Gabe and Rachael in their traditional African outfits. All of Mamelodi misses them, myself included.

Watership Down

A gift from the missionaries before they returned to the U.S. I think I should read the books that Adams borrows the quotations from to start each chapter.

"What am I lying here for?...We are lying here as though we had a chance of enjoying a quiet time... Am I waiting until I become a little older?"
Xenophon The Anabasis

from Chapter 3. Hazel's Decision

The Grass is Singing.

Read this novel by Doris Lessing last week. Written the same time as Cry the Beloved Country. Heavy. Again. Then, browsing an old "O" magazine (yes, Oprah again, she is everywhere) I saw a fashion spread recalling the fabulous 50s in Sophiatown (Jo'burg) and I thought, really, could that be true?

I would take a picture but I'm still without camera.

Tomorrow my students take their final exam.

Don't worry. I'm going easy on them.

Nope. Still haven't decided what to do about India.

I'm going to wait and see...a few more days. I can postpone my flight to Delhi but I can't skip it. I have to go to Delhi and Kathmandu or I forfeit the rest of my plane tickets. I can't make any changes to the routing. I may just fly south from Delhi and visit Goa or Kerala instead, then fly to Kathmandu for two weeks in Nepal. I just don't know.

"Hello. I'm Johnny Cash."

This is Tino. Tino and his mom come to stay every weekend from Friday to Monday. He's four and knows two languages, and is working on English as the third. Tino teaches me Zulu and I teach him English. We've been listening to my ipod. Tino likes Bob Marley, the Jackson 5, Stevie Wonder, and Johnny Cash. He likes to guess the words to the songs and sing along (and quote Johnny Cash). Tino does not like Jacques Dutronc, Thelonious Monk, John Coltrane, The Buena Vista Social Club, The Jam, or the Rolling Stones.

Monsoon.

India and Nepal are experiencing the worst Monsoon in THIRTY years. Millions are displaced in India and hundreds are dead. Thousands are without homes in Nepal. People are dropping food to villages and are trying to contain cholera, malaria, and diarrhea.

I'm scheduled to arrive in Delhi in a few weeks. Poor planning? Perhaps.

Oprah.

So, I have to admit I've been watching Oprah. Maybe because it is so American and everyone on the show as such American problems. South Africans worship Oprah. I wouldn't want to be caught saying a bad thing about Oprah around here.

Things I'm getting used to...

1. Taking baths instead of showers.
2. Drinking instant coffee.
3. Making the bed (when you live in someone else's house you gotta do it).

Who wants to meet me in India?

Delhi in the monsoon...come on. I need to make a plan.

Officially two months.

It's the first of August. Athens seems like a different trip altogether...like a year ago instead of two months.

I always miss the punchlines.

The services at the church are translated - English to Sotho, or Tsonga, or Zulu or who knows maybe all three at once. BUT there are lot of jokes and they always deliver the punch line in an African language. The church is rocking with laughter and I am clueless. Tonight, the joke involved God and Chuck Norris. But, honestly, I have no idea what was happening.