Finish Line: Minneapolis

This is it! My last and final post on this travel blog. Somehow this trip turned into an around the world venture without meaning to do so. I didn't book most of it in advance, and stumbled my way around until I reached the Midwest again.

There are always strange feelings at the end of a journey, because there are many changes along the way, but none of them as grand as the finish. I must admit that I am not entirely sure what is in store for me next, but I do know that I have learned a tremendous amount. More than could ever be written or described all in one go. I woke up this morning in my own bed trying to remember if everything really did happen or if it was just a long dream, like the ending of a poorly written Hollywood film.

I am sure everyone hears about a phenomenon they call "culture shock" and "reverse culture shock". I was lucky enough to understand what things in Asia shocked me and coped with them exceedingly well. Now I am not sure what things will or will not shock me, but I am excited to find out, maybe this will be the steepest learning curve to understanding my own background. I have heard many many times that by traveling you learn the most about where you are from, because after all it is the main reference to which we make our constant comparisons on our first and continued travels.

I was somehow expecting to be mugged in Chicago, because I thought that the irony would be overwhelming. I had managed to travel many poverty stricken countries in Asia without having even one thing picked off of me and made it nearly home. But my lucky streak has prevailed. I had stopped in Chicago to save a bit of money on my flight, visit some friends, sight see a bit in my own country and take a couple days to adjust. It was incredibly strange being able to understand everyone around me while riding the El or walking around the loop, so much so, that I found myself making a trip to Chinatown. In the midst of traditional Chinese characters, Cantonese, and all the restaurants I had found a place that seemed like a mix of China and Chicago.

I had the warmest welcome home ever, my dad picked me up at the Megabus stop and we made it to the front door. I knocked and got the dog excited, but he stopped barking when I started calling 'Escher'. He seemed extremely confused and realized it was my dad, wagged his tail... And then somehow it hit him who I was. I have never ever heard such a noise from any dog in my life. His whole body froze and he did this shrieking-squealing thing for a whole minute. I was pretty sure I had just given my dog a heart attack. He had done all of this while peeing himself and took him five minutes to calm down a bit. I must say it is nice to feel so loved and missed. I don't think anyone else will pee themselves since I am home, I should hope not, it might be kind of awkward....

I am home now and if anyone wants or needs any help with trying to figure out any travel to anywhere I have been, definitely let me know. I am more than willing to explain essential logistics, accommodation, sights and what else if I have not already done so in my blog. I was probably along the lowest ends of the price scale, so if you can imagine how rough some of the travels were. I left out a lot of details about the cockroaches, rats outside restaurants and grotesque things I thought might make people a little uncomfortable or downright sick. (I am pretty surprised at how clean Italy and the U.S.A. are). But I am sure I can give some good advice--the best always comes from fellow travelers, not guidebooks.

I hope that everyone enjoyed sharing a small piece of my experience along the way. Please let me know if you any questions, want to meet up, or if there is something you are just dying to know. I will be posting pictures to a flickr account in the next week, but in the meanwhile I will dissolve the email list. This is my final post and I am a bit sad it is all over. Thank you for all the support.

Italia

Since I was all finished with India and I wanted a quick respite before returning to the states, a gentle easing back into Minnesotan culture (yes there is a culture in the midwest). So I choose Italy, which I have such a soft spot for and I wanted to practice my language skills for a week. The additional ticket cost was marginal, but I have to say there was a quite a shock going from Rupees to Euros...

Italia....
I am not sure that the comparison between Italy and India is a proper one, but I couldn't help myself from making it. Elizabeth Gilbert does it in her widely popular book "Eat, Love, Pray", but the other way around starting in Italy. I arrived expecting to feel like I stood out a bit less and that I could easily sit down at a cafe and wait the last couple hours before my train to Senigallia without much notice from anyone. Instead of fitting in, I stood out even more than I had in Mumbai during my last days in India. I am pretty sure the short pants, large yellow backpack, and numerous bags helped make a target for all the stares at Roma Termini.

I had forgotten how fashionable and glamorous Italians look in all the leather, black jackets and sunglasses; in addition I had forgotten what cold temperatures felt like. I made it to Senigallia after nearly 24 hours of straight travel. Italy was a bit of redemption for me. The months of harsh travel seemed to melt away amongst the mouth watering al dente pasta, wine, gorgeous architecture in every direction, and practicing my rusty (not rustica) Italian. Memories came flashing back from my last visit nearly two years ago, I hadn't realized how much my heart ached for this country, since it stands as a symbol of freedom for me. Italy was my real first global trip out of the United States, and it was equally symbolic for me on my return. By the end of the very short and fun week, I could understand a great deal more Italian and I put on a couple pounds showing my real love for Italian food.

My friend and his family were more than accommodating in every respect and made me feel as if I was a part of the family. I wanted to say that his mom was a wonderful cook (she most definitely is), but in fact the whole family had the same glorious attitude towards food. I have no idea how I have been so lucky or deserving of all the kindness and hospitality I have received in the last year. I just hope my luck does not run out anytime soon, or before I am able to bestow some of the kindness back or forward in return.

I achieved all that I wanted to in Italy. I had a lot of espresso (yum), pasta, pizza, appertivi, gelato, visited Ancona and Roma, and went to a local play production all done in various dialects (I understood maybe 50%). The visit to Italy concluded with a couple days wandering around Rome. I love Rome, and I could wander for weeks without ever getting bored. The city is so vibrant and antique at the same time, not many places in the world retain the old treasures as well as Rome does and moves forward at the same time. I am not sure I was quite ready to leave Italy, I could have spent a bit longer, but my bank account was telling me otherwise and off to Chicago I was.

I am here now in Chicago, visiting for a couple days and being a tourist in my own country. The flight was significantly cheaper, even when I factor in the cheap bus ticket home. I will be home soon.

Another note: Please check out my friend's pictures that he took while we traveled. Some are from other travels, but there are a great deal from Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand. He is an awesome photographer, and the same guy who took all the sand dune pictures that people have commented on. Link---> http://www.flickr.com/biggiebiz

Mahive Mumbai, My Love Mumbai!

My friend's parents dropped me at the station, their hospitality never ended even until the last possible second. After anxiously awaiting for the 3 and a half hour train to reach Mumbai. I thought that Bittu might have trouble seeing me at the train station, since after nearly 6 weeks I felt like I fit in and didn't notice any of the stares; oh, and the fact that my extremely fair skin has since tanned (not really, but I can always pretend right?). It was a good thing that I spotted him right away, maybe it was the other way around, it's really that important :).

The next 3 days flashed by so quickly that I had hardly any idea that I was leaving India so soon. The family took me around, I saw my good friend Neel's family's flat, Bandra and the infamous laundry slums, Dobi Ghats. I saw a very high profile Hindu temple that was packed (even though it was an off day) with people to bring offerings. Apparently around exam times it takes hours to pass through the long lines. Many of the temples in India start with a simple shrine or stone that is regarded to have spirital properties, and then bigger and bigger structures are built around expanding the existing structure well beyond its original size.

I think Dobi Ghats was my favorite, because most people stand a very safe distance away and snap pictures on the overlooking bridge. Knowing me, this wasn't enough, and there is not anything wrong with trying to enter. Bittu went up and asked them, while switching into the local language and accent pretending to be a kid from the neighborhood. They said 100 rupees and let us in. All of the people in Dobi Ghats many years ago put their money together to buy the cement wash basins that they do a good portion of the city's laundry in. So many people were friendly and excited to have a picture snapped of them, and I am always sure to ask 'acha', which means good in Hindi when I show them the picture. Bittu got a lot of attention from people wanting to partner with him to set up a tour guide racket for foreigners; he caught all of the comments about how smart he was for bringing me and how much I must of paid him, one father told his son not to do laundry and follow my friend's example. I had no idea any of this was being mentioned until after, but smiled nevertheless as I interacted with people, snapped pictures, squeezed around tubs and machines. No piece of clothing is ever lost, and the whites are bleached by the sun atop the houses on clotheslines.

I am thankful to have such amazing people to show me around and get a better taste for the places I have visited. I felt as if I was a part of so many families, but most noteably in Pune and Mumbai. I never once felt alone nor timid to keep continuing onwards. I had mixed feelings as the trip in India ended, excitement for going to Italy and returning home, and a strong desire to experience more. My entourage dropped me at the airport with enough time to make it through the rigorous security in Mumbai's airport and jet off once again.

I am currently in Senigallia, Marche, Italia eating homemade tiramisu about to have a fresh espresso and make my way to Ancona for the day. I am very happy, cold, and recovering my Italian language skills very slowly. Ciao!

Going to Goa and Visiting the Peshwars in Pune

I know that as this trip ends, I am trying to savor everything. Take in the last breaths of my trip, smelling the curries and actually opening my eyes as wide as they go to see it all. This is perhaps the main reason for my delinquency in posting about India. I regret that I cannot do all of my experiences justice in writing.

I had a long journey making my way from Varkala to Goa, first a night in Ernakulam, and then a 16 hour train to Margao (central Goa); and then 3 different buses to make it to the cheap, but very touristy Anjuna beach. Goa is a place known for its party scene and lovely beaches, but these aren't the only reasons one should visit. I absolutely loved Goa, partly for the company that I met and the ability to interact with the locals a bit more. Goa has a lot of cash inflows from tourists (meaning high structural development) and only recently kicked out the Portuguese in the 60s. There are remnants of this colonialism everywhere and perhaps the extremely high literacy rate is just a side-effect of this small state's history.

I made friends almost instantly and had the pleasure of attending a Halloween costume competition (mostly for children) and learning how to play backgammon. The best and winning costume was a boy who was the head from a failed science experiment, this might be one of those things that you have to see to understand. I was dressed as something in between a beach bum, backpacker, and many other things that give a spectator my level of apathy towards my dress while traveling. I found it unnecessary in India to be trendy, but covering oneself and protecting against the sun's ever powerful UV rays is important. There are quite a few of long-term foreign residents in Goa, and I had the pleasure of meeting many of them. The community is small, but there are a lot that have over 30 years of experience in relaxing or working along the stretches of white sand.

The following day I spent on a gorgeous beach up north, pleasantly deserted and busiest on Sundays. On Sundays the regulars make their way there by motorcycle. I met up with my friend from the previous day to hitch a ride there. Children of the foreign residents played soccer and splashed through the water, I think this stop was a good respite before the end of my traveling in India.

The next two days passed by very quickly as I rented a motorbike and rode around alone talking to random people and snapping tons of pictures. I saw pretty much all of the surrounding area, Fort Agunda, and many of the very crowded beaches. There is an abnormally large Russian tourist population in Goa, signs and much else are written in Russian or catered completely for them. A smiling boy approached me in the grocery store and I am sure he could see my confusion, since I didn't understand any of the Russian he was speaking. I met a couple locals at their shops that told me they only meet a couple Americans in that part each year (strange since the U.S. supplies the highest number of tourists each year to India).

The last day I spent a great deal of my time on buses. At 7 am I started with the first of three buses to make my way to Old Goa and its world heritage sites; Anjuna to Mapusa, Mapusa to Panjim, and finally Panjim to Old Goa (maybe an hour and a half total). Old Goa has a high density of 400 year old cathedrals and churches for its size, many remnants of the abundant missionary activity under Portuguese rule. The churches are well respected and adorned with wide boulevards and succulent-green grounds. Many of the old remnants of colonial sites I have visited on my entire trip, confuse my preconceptions, because they mesh two things such as India and Europe that I had previously kept separate in my mind. After generous picture taking, I decided that I would just grab a bus to make my way south to catch my afternoon train to Pune. I ended up taking the slowest bus ever to Ponda, and then getting on another to Margao, a quick 2 hours... And off I was on my last sleeping class train ride in India on this trip.

I arrived in Pune quite early, too early, and I wanted to spare my friend's parents some hassle by waiting to wake them up. Little did I know that most people know the general arrival times for the common train routes, and since I waited, I had worried them. Indians are such amazing hosts and hold themselves responsible for everything. I felt bad about this, but we made contact and I rode in one of the very fast rickshaws to their lovely house with a large yard, big German Shepard and their own street named after the my friend's great-grandfather.

Pune was a definite on my list of places to visit on my route. Mainly because it has a rich history from its position as a Maratha stronghold against the British. We visited the world renowned Pune University, the Peshwarship castle, and the walking paths on the hill over looking town. I met up with a couple of my friend's childhood friends and ate at a restaurant mixing all of my past 8 months in a couple dishes. Indian-Chinese food, which is perfect since I think of my past months as an Sino-Indo experience and a primary topic of many debates and conversations with strangers along the way. I was sad to leave Pune only after two days, but equally happy to have a couple to spend with my friend and his family in Mumbai.

Fleeting the Fort Onwards to Sunny Varkala....

I am not entirely sure how time has flown by so fast! I only have one more week in India and then onwards for a brief layover in Italy to regain my language skills, Chicago and then home. I must say since this is nearly the end, I am looking forward to coming home and seeing everyone that I've missed.

Fort Cochin was a nice place to sit back and relax. Even though this is a trip and more-or-less a vacation, it doesn't mean that it's always relaxing (usually quite the opposite). Two of my friends and I decided to stay on the Ernakulam side for pure convenience. The boat jetty is just down the road and convenient enough for us to make our way to Cochin proper.

The Lonely Planet describes this area as the flourishing cosmopolitan area of Kerala (albeit nice, it's still a bit of an over exaggeration). Some times the brutally honest description of a place in India, just doesn't fit either, I prefer to think of these descriptions as riddles. Meaning that pay close attention to the chosen adjectives and items described in any guide book. The maps and logistical information have become the only really helpful things, ignore the rest, well maybe sometimes the sights too (broken go-kart tracks should not be a point of excitement in a guide, reference Ooty).

After some much needed rest and buckets of hot water for showers, we made our way on the ferry. Finally, it had been a while since I've touched any hot water, soap cannot remove all of the dirt and pollution when it does not lather. Apparently, we cast a curse on anything mechanical around us. Our bus broke down on the way from Coimbatore to Fort Cochin and then our ferry broke down on the way to Cochin proper!! The only way to really handle this is to laugh it off and hope your life-jacket-less boat doesn't sink.

Fort Cochin is very small and easy to navigate by foot. We visited old Jew Town, the remnants of the Dutch palace (both closed and somewhat unimpressive), and of course tried to avoid all of the shop hawkers at all costs. Rickshaw drivers are keen on picking up tourists in Fort Cochin since the commission racket is very much alive (even sponsored by the government shops). Some rickshaw drivers were offering money to us and a free ride, if we stopped in a couple shops and looked at the things (and from experience I am doubtful that the stores make up the money lost on commission fees). We ended up running into the other trio that comprised our whole group in Ooty at the Kashi Art Cafe (wonderful food by the way). We hammered out our plan (or really lack thereof) for the backwaters. Next day buses for them to Alleppey, and us a lovely lovely train.

This lovely lovely train just happened to be 1 hour late and another 1.5 hours on the train. We were so crammed in sleeper class and not really paying attention that we nearly missed our stop. The other trio managed to line up accommodation and transit (we made it a rule for them to go first and find a place after the bed bugs incident in Ooty). We stayed at the Brown House in the center of town (a lovely place and very very clean!!). The Swedes had to part, as one was off to make another journey in SE Asia and was a bit short on time. The remaining four of us booked a house boat and did the typical 24 hour boat tour. Good food, very little actual boating, asked for 'school pens' by a couple adults (no children in sight), lots of insects (I hope not the malarial-type), and excellent company.

Next onwards to Varkala, which is a bit more south. We lined up our accommodation through our man Ameer at the Brown House, and I was pretty ecstatic when we were picked up for free at the station (even though we were 4 hours later than the tickets predicted, oops). And get this, the owners are Italian! The Skyline Resort was nice and fairly inexpensive, but I enjoyed the company most. I spent a couple nights going out with the owners and their friends; they made me feel at home. Everyone was so shocked to meet an American who speaks another language, especially Italian. I hope I broke that stereotype a bit, fingers crossed. My visit was very short, but I found that I could have spent much more time there indeed. I bid my Irish friends a goodbye, (already we were old friends, in travel time 3 weeks is a long while) and started making the long trek to Goa for a brief stop over.

Here I am in Goa and on my way once again to Pune to visit a friend's family before settling things in Mumbai and catching my flight on November 9th.

Mysore onwards to the Fort!

Mysore is a particularly important city historically. It was one of the last quasi-recognized states to fall to the British Empire. As well as one of the last remaining states that was once dependent on Vijayanagar empire (literally means "victory place") or today known as Hampi. (I've been reading up on my history along the way from "India: A History, 1999, John Keay.)

The Mysore area had long established trade with the Middle East and even Europe and flourished under the careful development of a two successive sultans. Mysore was known to be one of the most advanced cities in Asia in administrative and development measures before it was a part of British India. Some of these advancements you can still see, such as the palace that was rebuilt in the early 1900s after a devastating fire, and the wide streets and carefully planned round-abouts. Even the history of silk production was artificially cultivated and came about under the ambitions of Sultan Tipu in the late 1800s.

I enjoyed the laid back attitude and the wonderful bazaar in the center of town. The bazaar is known for the wide array of fragrances for sale and the colorful cone-shaped mounds of powder used for paints and other ceremonial purposes. I was delighted at all of the photo opportunities.

After sauntering around the hot and semi-closed-for-Diwali Mysore for a couple days, we decided to stop over for a couple nights on the way to Fort Cochin in Ooty.

Ooty is known as a hill-station town with a bit cooler temperatures that lures the weekend crowds from Bangalore and Mysore. We arrived just after the sunset (after a 6 hour bus ride, check to make sure you are on the fast bus), and found a place to stay. It was 6 of us in all, and we found a reasonably priced place, but had to suffer waking up to the shouting of the desk clerks, cell phone ring tones, and dealing with bed bugs :( (luckily, I wasn't bitten by the bed bugs).

The food in Ooty was only sub-par, we managed to have only one decent meal and some yummy chocolates during our stay. The rest of the food was either old, microwaved, or just plain awful. It ended up being a joke of sorts that we couldn't find a decent meal, most of the restaurants were touristy and therefore had marginalized Indian and Western dishes.

We did a couple of the touristy things around town including the Thread Garden, the first time in the world that it's ever been done folks! 50 people spent 12 years making realistic-looking flowers out of thread, I bet you can imagine this spectacle. I was more impressed by the most dangerous go-kart track, the rules included strongly suggested advice to drive slow... Most of the cars were on the side of the track in pieces.

We decided to go early and catch the bus the next morning onwards to Fort Cochin with a brief stop over in Coimbatore. Two of us fell asleep and woke up with the bus completely packed with people, it's safe to assume that whatever means of transportation you'll be taking will be full. The changes in the surrounds appear almost instantly, Kerala is a bit more developed than the rest of other states. I'll have to continue about this more later...

I think this post is long enough and I have to find a means of transportation further south. Only 2 weeks left in India, and a few more after that until I am home again. November 22nd I will be back in Minneapolis. I hope everyone is doing well!

Gokarna to Mysore, Karnataka

After a nice restful stay in Hampi, I made my way to Gokarna. Gokarna literally means cow's ear, because the piece of land on which it sits resembles a cow's ear on a map. The town is about an hour and a half south of the infamous ex-Portuguese-colonized-beach-haven state of Goa. Gokarna is known primarily as a pilgrimage town for Hindus (and the occasional westerner). I took the deluxe luxury sleeper bus from Hampi, (I'm not entirely sure if there was an intended sarcasm in the terms used in the marketing), and I arrived in the wee hours of the morning. I had met a couple girls going to one of the beaches (Om Beach) relatively close to the main town and I decided that it would be best to try to share the rickshaw at 5 am with them. After an hour of being crammed into a rickshaw winding around pothole-filled roads, we made it to the beach. I promptly began looking for places to stay and realized that there were no ATMs or any other places for exchanging money near by. This meant that I would have to walk to town and I was somehow under an original impression that it would only be a 20 minute walk.

Well, 20 minutes was right, but only for the short trek to the next beach, Kudle, and then another 25 minutes onwards to town. There were plenty of decent looking deserted places to stay on both beaches. It's not quite high season yet, a couple more weeks and these beaches will both be packed. The path ends as it descends down a hill, from which the town merely looks like a palm tree grove, and right in front of the important temples in town. The temples are quite plain on the outside, and I have no idea what they look like on the inside, as non-believers/followers are not allowed to enter or take any pictures.

Most of the guest houses and hostels were, well, mostly unsuitable for life other than roaches, mosquitoes or bacteria (and usually I'm not a very picky person). I finally found one, Hotel Nimmu and made my way around town. Hotel Mahalaxi did not have such nice rooms, but it had the best food in town by far (if you are ever there, try the banana lassi)! There really is not much to do here other than relax on a beach, and seeing as the sun isn't really so kind to my skin, I don't usually last too long. I did a bit of shopping and writing, and meeting some fellow travelers along the way.

I vowed to head to Mysore to meet up with some fellow Bollywood extras and continue on together to Kerala. There were no seats on any of the trains heading south, since it was the couple days preceding one of the largest festivals in India, Diwali*. Everyone is traveling home for the celebration, most people have a break from school and work for the festivities. It was just like China all over, competing with a billion vacationers for train seats!

I was lucky enough to discover that the KSTC (Karnataka state) bus starts at 6:45 am from the central bus station to Mangalore and continued onto Mysore reaching at about 9 pm. I went for it, and after 12 lovely, sweaty, cramped, and bumpy hours I made it to Mysore. I think we even hit another bus or truck at one point; I didn't pay much attention as this is quite the usual occurrence here. The bus merely backs up for the other to pass and keeps cutting around the sharp cliff-side turns (still not as scary as the Bollywood bus, it was daylight and even if it was night we had headlights). The view of the Western Ghats from the bus window was lovely. This area is one of the last areas where large stretches of the mangrove forests have not been completely decimated, and those areas that have are replaced by rubber and palm farms. The small, quaint, and relatively-clean towns where the bus would occasionally slow down so people could push on and off, were lit up with chains of white lights. This created a somewhat serene atmosphere in these hill-topping towns, which tempted me a couple times to stop and stay at one of the many hotels and home stays, but instead I pushed onwards to Mysore.

There are often so many things I would like to write about, but have not yet found the perfect adjectives to explain the real India. I have plenty of pictures I intend on uploading to this blog and showing people upon returning home, but even those lose the real olfactory and tangible sensations that India elicits. I best describe India as a country of dichotomies, meaning that often the poor and the rich are situated next to each other in extreme contrast; or meaning that there are just two things that in most countries would not have such a close association to each other. There are always surprises here, and I'm not sure much will surprise me elsewhere. Even ordering food is like Christmas, you never know what you're going to get, which as you can imagine isn't always a good thing. India is good, bad, wonderful, tiring, colorful, tasty, diverse, old, new, and every other descriptor you could think of, all rolled into an explanation of one country. Perhaps you just have to travel to one of the other diverse-mini-country-like states to experience it all.

*Sidenote: Diwali is a festival celebrating the victory of good over evil. Sikhs, Hindus, Buddhists and Jains all celebrate this holiday often with very bright and loud fireworks. (You can read the wiki article from some background knowledge here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diwali).