Merry Christmas and/or Happy Holidays

Hello everyone. I'm in Agra, home of theTaj Mahal, after yesterday's grueling 17 hour train ride.

I wasn't able to get a reserved seat, but the travel agent said, "Oh, it's a day train, so it's no problem, just find a place to sit down." My ticket was for "sleeper class" and this made sense, I thought, since the sleeping compartments would be set up for sitting rather than sleeping. In this configuration, the upper berths would be open and I could just lie down and read, nap or listen to my iPod. No problem. Well, it worked that way for the first half of the trip. At some stop, though, the car started filling with people...and more people...and more people. To make a long story short, I ended up in that same berth with two other guys and a bunch of luggage. Being so close to the ceiling, I couldn't sit up, or lie down, completely. I'm amazed my neck isn't sore today. As horrible as that sounds, it wasn't complete torture. Even though there were so many people packed into that car, somehow it felt like we were all a big family. The Indians were very generous and gracious. The people whose berth I was sitting in put off their bed time when the train was late and made space for me at the end of one of the lower berths when the train ended up being very late. And the couple of guys that were sharing the berth with me bought me chai and shared their peanuts. So, as happy as I was to get off that train, for the circumstances, it couldn't have gone any better.

So, it's a lovely day here in Agra. My hotel is only about 100 yards from the outer wall of the Taj Mahal and the rooftop tables have a great view, the perfect backdrop for my lunch this afternoon. Today I'm mostly relaxing (strangely enough, with eight months, you'd think that I'd have a lot of days for just relaxing, but that hasn't been the case). I had a couple of nice chats with my dad and brother this morning that made me very happy. Tonight my hotel is having a Christmas party in their restaurant, so hopefully I'll meet some nice folks to celebrate with; but right now, my thoughts are of all of you, missing you and hoping you're all having a great day.

Tomorrow, I'll do the sight seeing, getting up early to see the sun rise on the Taj Mahal.

Oh, I've got a couple of posts in the works on my trips to Varanasi and Bodhgaya, so stay tuned.

Here's a picture I took in Varanasi. I didn't realize it at the time, but looking at it now, he sort of looks like an Indian Santa Claus.

Gettin' Out of Delhi

I'm happy to say I'm getting out of Delhi today, taking an overnight train to Varanasi.

I hope the last post wasn't too depressing. It was a bad day and then I sat down in front of a computer.

But it's all part of the adventure and reminds me of a tag line I read on someone's post on an Internet forum somewhere: "Adventure is emotional and physical discomfort recalled in a state of tranquillity." I want to send a big thank you to those of you that sent me words of encouragement and virtual hugs. It was very much appreciated.

Delhi, as you may have guessed, hasn't been my favorite part of the trip, but there were a few highlights. Riding around the madness of Old Delhi on a bicycle rickshaw was one:

On my second day there was a festival/parade down the street in front of my hotel. It was put on the Sikhs, one of India's religious groups. They're the ones that wear the turbans (apparently there is a star Sikh cricket player called the "Turbanator"). They were giving out free food (good, too!) and it was quite a party, although the "marching bands" sounded terrible. I was touched to have people in the parade hand me crackers and some kids share their oranges with me.

I also visited the place Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated on January 30, 1948. He would take part in nightly public prayer-meetings on the grounds of the house where he was staying and was shot and killed there by a Hindu extremist. The house is now a museum. As you wind your way through the house, exhibits tell the story of Gandhi's life from the early years on; when you get to his last hours, you end up in his room where the handful of his worldly possessions are displayed, including his glasses and walking cane. From there you follow concrete footprints that lead to the back garden, marking his final steps that evening. The footprints end at a small memorial where he fell. Gandhi is one of my heros so it was a very poignant, moving experience for me. I'll leave you with a couple of Gandhi quotes that seem especially relevant for us today:

"What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans, and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty and democracy?"

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."

The Bad with the Good

I debated about whether I should write this post or not. I don't want to worry anyone, but I also want to give you my experience as it is, not just the rosy highlights.

Delhi has been difficult.

I've traveled to many parts of the world and, as you saw in an earlier posts, been on the receiving end of a lot of scams. I think of myself as a pretty smart, intuitive guy and even when I was getting taken advantage of, I was at least somewhat aware of what was going on and was more the victim of lack of information--not knowing the worth of something, perhaps. But here in Delhi, I've seen deception that borders on a con game. Apparently the tour business is rather cutthroat and the money big enough to warrant the lengths these companies go to. Since I arrived three days ago, pretty much anyone who's approached me has been a tout, someone hired to lure people into a shop or business. Invariably, it starts with, "What country are you from?" It's obvious what's going on and sometimes I'll chat and sometimes I'll ignore them. That's all fine, but, as you can imagine, it gets a old quickly. Although sometimes it can be helpful.

I was in the post office a couple days ago when a "very nice man" came up to me when it was obvious that I was at a complete loss as to where to begin. He translated with the woman behind the counter, walked me down the street to where I could purchase packing material, helped me again at counter back at the post office. Through this he gradually steered the conversation to travel agencies and some confusing nonsense about how the India's one official tour agency had moved, etc. He then, almost as an afterthought, volunteered to walk me to the right place. By this time, it was obvious what was going on, and when we arrived, he just stopped, shook my hand and said it was nice to have met me. It was all very pleasant and I just walked on, no big deal.

Today really threw me, though. My plan was to mail some more stuff at the post office and then hit one of the Starbuck's-like coffee shops in the more upscale part of New Delhi to try and figure out where I want to go next. I sat down at a table next to two guys that seemed to be part of India's new economic prosperity; you could have easily transplanted them to downtown Denver and called them yuppies. They asked me what I was up to and after a few friendly exchanges they invited me over to their table. I was loving it, I felt like I was finally getting to know a couple locals. Their English was great and they gave me some great ideas on places I might want to visit, we even talked about George Bush for a while. One had to leave. After he left, I asked the other guy what he did for a living. "Insurance company," he said. I was completely disarmed. I was asking about some places to visit after my coffee and had my Lonely Planet open to the map of the area. He made a point of showing me the official tourist office which was listed on the map. "Be sure to go to this one," he said. I laughed and commented on all the scam artists. "Oh yes, be careful, they're everywhere." I payed for my coffee and we got up to leave together, him saying, "yes, he'd better get back to work." I was enjoying our conversation and walking along with him. The tourist agency was right around the corner and he casually pointed it out to me and we said goodbye. I walked in, anxious to get a plan together. As I'm sure you know already, it wasn't the official agency. The next thing I know I've got this travel agent with a $2000 plan for my next two months, including a personal driver through Rajasthan. When I balk at that, he's got a $1000 plan. "Okay, thanks for the information, I'll think about it." Next came the high pressure sales. They make you feel like you've just spit in their face because you won't sign a contract right then and there. I started making my way towards the door as graciously as I could. When I got outside, somebody else was there leading me over to one of their cars and a driver. "Just take a short tour around the city for only 200 rupees, see how you like the service." I declined. "Okay, take the tour on us, if you don't like it, no problem, we part as friends." I don't know why, I knew better, but I got in the car. We drove around for a little while and returned to the agency. I knew what was coming. It's a different set of guys and they and the driver are asking about the 200 rupees. "Sorry, the other person said it was on you," I said. I was given the spit-in-the-face treatment again and told to, "have some respect and at least tip the driver." which I did since I was planning on it anyway.

For whatever reason, I haven't been able to meet and hook up with any fellow travelers so I feel very alone here. The constant deception and harassment has left me feeling alienated and bitter. The air pollution is terrible; there is a constant, surprisingly thick haze. The noise is constant and I think that if there is a hell, it will be filled with the sounds of motorcycle and car horns. A couple of days ago, I saw a guy begging that was as disfigured and pitiful as I've ever seen, his eyes clouded and different body parts missing, covered in dirty bandages. On the walk to my hotel after the that last tour agency incident, I had a woman with baby walking along side of me for a few blocks begging for money. "One rupee sir, please, feed my baby." I was tired, had too much caffeine, not enough water and watched while my heart struggled with whether to end my discomfort by reclassifying her from "struggling human being" to "irritant." My heart was breaking but I don't know if it was for her or for me. Sometimes suffering seems so big that if I really let it in, all of it, mine and everyone else's, it would destroy me. Is that true? I don't know.

Welcome to India and f#*k you

So, as I went mentioned in my last post, I had heard it might be a challenge just to get to the hotel without being scammed. Guess what?

It went like this: I picked a hostel out of the Lonely Planet (the most popular guide for budget and adventure travel) in the area I wanted. I got a prepaid voucher for a taxi at the airport--this part is on the up and up. Once in the taxi, the driver mumbled something about not knowing exactly where it is but, "he'll find out." Oh, first I should mention that I only picked up my Lonely Planet India this morning since it's heavy and I was waiting to trade my Lonely Planet Nepal for a discount. On the flight I read that it's best to book your Delhi hotel ahead of time as the best places fill up fast and many of them will provide an airport transfer if you have a reservation. Oh well, too late for that. I then read a half page on the many taxi scams. Okey dokey.

So, I got in the cab and we were off. We had the now familiar taxi driver conversation about where I'm from, how long I'm in India, etc. He seemed nice enough and I started to relax, thinking maybe I won't have to worry about this one. In my experience, the Lonely Planet, understandably, has to tell you the worst of it. But about twenty minutes later he pulls up in front of a "travel agency" and goes into the office, ostensibly to find out exactly where the hostel is. "Oh shit, here we go," I thought. Sure enough, he comes out and says, "can you come in?" This is almost exactly how the Lonely Planet describes it: They taxi driver takes you to a travel agency on some pretense, then they call your hotel to make sure your reservation is in order. Lo and behold, "the hotel is full and they don't have your reservation. Oh dear, that's too bad, but I happen to know another hotel that can take you." They even put you on the phone with your "hotel," but it's actually a confederate playing the part.

I was having none of it. Those of you that know me well, know that it takes a lot for me to lose my temper and how much I shy away from confrontation, but you should have seen me in this office. First of all, the area of Delhi that I was going to is a stretch of road about a half mile long and one of the more popular places for backpackers, so this line about not knowing the location of the hostel was obvious BS. Secondly, there's no reason the hotel has to confirm my reservation if the agency is just calling for directions. The "travel agent" and I were soon in a shouting match. He was trying to put me on the phone with the "hotel," wondering why I was being so difficult when he was only trying to help. I was demanding to just be taken to the hostel, that there was no reason to check my reservation. I eventually just stormed out of the office. Luckily, the driver was waiting outside and less willing to get into it with me. Strangely, he still seemed like a decent guy and didn't put up a fight when I said just take me to a corner near the hostel--all of this obvious on the map, by the way. Golly, wouldn't you know it, all of a sudden he knew exactly where the place was.

Well, fortunately the hotel had a room and I had some terrific Chicken Tikka Masala for dinner (who knew the Indian food would be so good here) so all's well. And now I'm off to bed.

Leaving Nepal

I'm leaving Nepal for Delhi, India this afternoon. I've had such a great time here and met so many fun and interesting people that I'm a little sentimental and sad this morning.

But I'm also ready to start my next adventure. I'm really curious about how I'm going to react to India. I've met a lot of people that have just come from there and it seems to be one of those love or hate it places. I've been told by a number of people that I'll probably hate it for the first week or so while I'm adjusting--more culture shock. Apparently the people are much more aggressive with tourists as far as begging and selling. I've also been told to "trust no one," as scams seem to be everywhere; it may even be a struggle to get the taxi from the airport to take me to my hotel.

I have a lot more that I want to post on Nepal, but this week has been so busy with getting my Indian visa (bureaucratic nightmare) and a full social calendar with new friends.

Posts with pictures are more fun, aren't they? So in case you've forgotten what I look like, here's a self portrait I did on the Jomsom trek. It was taken on a beautiful morning from Poon Hill at sunrise. The peak in the background is Dhaulagiri, the seventh highest mountain in the world at 26,794 ft.