... but the content you have to pay for.
Meaning, this is going to be another rambling post. (Official tag: 'blah blah blah.')
New photo albums of Rajasthan from both E. and I on facebook, so check it out if you can. I've tried to label things somewhat clearly.
So, Western news. Edwards really did the Clinton campaign in when he quit, eh? She probably would have taken the next few states if the leftist dem vote wasn't being split between him and Obama. I think it's a good thing overall - not just because I more or less, given the three major options, like Obama, but because I think he'll cut deeper into the GOP voteshare than Clinton would have, and that might be a big issue with McCain since no one seems to be noticing that he's every bit as batshit crazy as the rest of them. Evidence provided upon request. Or just click any one of those links over there ----->. There was a really interesting post up at Pandagon from a few days ago about an interview in which McCain pretends not to know whether condoms help reduce transmission of HIV. And that, friends, is really, really bad news.
There are these ads here, for I don't know what, but they're these huge billboards with a huge cartoon of the US, the geographical outline dressed in the stars and stripes, and it has a cartoon of HRC and two anonymous men in suits and the headline "Auntie Sam?". I cannot figure out what it's an ad for but I've seen it multiple times. There's something else on it about "the democratic choice" and then the logo of some product we don't recognize. Of course that's nicer than she's been addressed as by most of the US media in years.
But I was talking about gurudwaras. Or I was meaning to. And Amritsar.
Going to the gurudwaras was incredibly interesting, and being now on the Ganges, even more so. I'll be spending the rest of tonight doing some contextual reading about both Hinduism and Sikhism. I shortchanged Amritsar a lot, in my previous entry. It's just not quite enough to say that the Golden Temple was amazing, beautiful, etc. When we first saw it, it was already edging past dusk, but there were still prayers being sung. When you see it, it's floating in the middle of a square, still pool which is surrounded at some distance by a walkway of marble. You slowly make your way around the entire structure, and you stare. I would have sworn it was lighting itself. It was so phenomenally serene. I could have sat there for a long long time.
To enter, like all gurudwaras, you remove your shoes and cover your head. Before entering the complex you wash your hands and dip your feet in a shallow pool at the entrance. You walk down a few steps, which is meant to remind you of the humility needed to approach God. Then, in the Golden Temple, for about 20 minutes you're knocked on your ass by the beauty of it all. I'll share the details of how you proceed through a Sikh shrine once I've got my background information straight, so in the meantime you'll have to take my word for it - it's amazing.
Tonight we've taken a walk and seen the evening arati, though from more of a distance than we were hoping - we might try again tomorrow. We're getting up early to do a (beginner's) yoga class (embarassing) tomorrow. I'm looking forward to showing off my utter unflexibility and lack of co-ordination in the early hours. Then back to ogling the mountains. I said I was enjoying the Himalayas, right? We're doing a 7k hike tomorrow and then in the afternoon.... possibly reading.
I know, blah blah blah. I know it's a vacation, but I haven't been idle in a while.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Hi, we're alive, and we're in Uttaranchal
Yes, that Uttaranchal.
There's a lot I skipped over before, about our time in Punjab. Like being shown how to behave properly in a gurudwara, for one. But again I'm short on time. I'll have it all down pat by the end of the trip and discuss it when I'm home.
We've just come from Dehra Dun, Uttaranchal, where we stayed with yet another generous member of S's family's community. Again it was lovely. Uttaranchal is quickly catching up to Rajasthan and Punjab as my favourite Indian states (sorry, Delhi). Of course, that's all the ones we've been to so far. But at some point between the tucked-between-mountains-on-three-sides Ayurvedic Medical school and the life-in-your-hands, lump-in-your-throat bus ride up the cliffs to the Mussoorie hill station (a small town at a great altitude where people come to escape the heat in the summer), it's becoming clearer and clearer that wherever I settle down will have to be in a valley. Or on a mountain. I haven't been around hills of this size since New Zealand.
We're in Rishikesh now, taking our first look at the Ganges - which somehow, for some reason, totally lives up to expectations. We might take it easy today, since we've had a busy few days leading up to now. Either today or tomorrow we'll go to watch evening puja on the river, take a walk around town, who knows. We'll be between here and Haridwar for the next two days, until we take an overnight train to Delhi on the 2nd-3rd to go pick up my passport (woot!). Then we're going poking into Uttar Pradesh. Figure while we're here we might as well go look at this.
Needless to say, I'm pretty excited for the next two weeks or so. Back to Delhi (which, oddly, I'm looking forward to - although most of the Indians we've spoken to about it refer to it as things like "awful," "nightmarish," and "hell"), then Agra (for the ghost city of Fatehpur Sikri as well as the Taj, which is getting and entire dawn-to-starlight day for itself), then Varanassi (of the famous ghats), then Khajuraho, then back across into southern Rajasthan for Udaipur and, hopefully, Pushkar.
In Patiala we were invited to a wedding on March 15 (I think I might have mistakenly told some people we were seeing one in February - we're not), so we'll be headed back up into Punjab for that in another two weeks. After the wedding we'll go down past Mumbai into Maharashtra, spend some time around Aurangabad (for the cave temples at Elora and Ajanta) and at the citadel in Daulatabad, and then down into Goa, Karnataka, and Kerala. The next few weeks are going to be just amazing.
Argh, internet time is up. I was going to link you photos to all of the above, but y'all know how to google image search. Go spend some time on wikipedia. We'll talk to you soon. Once again, wish you were here.
There's a lot I skipped over before, about our time in Punjab. Like being shown how to behave properly in a gurudwara, for one. But again I'm short on time. I'll have it all down pat by the end of the trip and discuss it when I'm home.
We've just come from Dehra Dun, Uttaranchal, where we stayed with yet another generous member of S's family's community. Again it was lovely. Uttaranchal is quickly catching up to Rajasthan and Punjab as my favourite Indian states (sorry, Delhi). Of course, that's all the ones we've been to so far. But at some point between the tucked-between-mountains-on-three-sides Ayurvedic Medical school and the life-in-your-hands, lump-in-your-throat bus ride up the cliffs to the Mussoorie hill station (a small town at a great altitude where people come to escape the heat in the summer), it's becoming clearer and clearer that wherever I settle down will have to be in a valley. Or on a mountain. I haven't been around hills of this size since New Zealand.
We're in Rishikesh now, taking our first look at the Ganges - which somehow, for some reason, totally lives up to expectations. We might take it easy today, since we've had a busy few days leading up to now. Either today or tomorrow we'll go to watch evening puja on the river, take a walk around town, who knows. We'll be between here and Haridwar for the next two days, until we take an overnight train to Delhi on the 2nd-3rd to go pick up my passport (woot!). Then we're going poking into Uttar Pradesh. Figure while we're here we might as well go look at this.
Needless to say, I'm pretty excited for the next two weeks or so. Back to Delhi (which, oddly, I'm looking forward to - although most of the Indians we've spoken to about it refer to it as things like "awful," "nightmarish," and "hell"), then Agra (for the ghost city of Fatehpur Sikri as well as the Taj, which is getting and entire dawn-to-starlight day for itself), then Varanassi (of the famous ghats), then Khajuraho, then back across into southern Rajasthan for Udaipur and, hopefully, Pushkar.
In Patiala we were invited to a wedding on March 15 (I think I might have mistakenly told some people we were seeing one in February - we're not), so we'll be headed back up into Punjab for that in another two weeks. After the wedding we'll go down past Mumbai into Maharashtra, spend some time around Aurangabad (for the cave temples at Elora and Ajanta) and at the citadel in Daulatabad, and then down into Goa, Karnataka, and Kerala. The next few weeks are going to be just amazing.
Argh, internet time is up. I was going to link you photos to all of the above, but y'all know how to google image search. Go spend some time on wikipedia. We'll talk to you soon. Once again, wish you were here.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Atwood, "The Loneliness of the Military Historian"
Confess: it's my profession
that alarms you.
This is why few people ask me to dinner,
though Lord knows I don't go out of my way to be scary.
I wear dresses of sensible cut
and unalarming shades of beige,
I smell of lavender and go to the hairdresser's:
no prophetess mane of mine,
complete with snakes, will frighten the youngsters.
If I roll my eyes and mutter,
if I clutch at my heart and scream in horror
like a third-rate actress chewing up a mad scene,
I do it in private and nobody sees
but the bathroom mirror.
In general I might agree with you:
women should not contemplate war,
should not weigh tactics impartially,
or evade the word enemy,
or view both sides and denounce nothing.
Women should march for peace,
or hand out white feathers to arouse bravery,
spit themselves on bayonets
to protect their babies,
whose skulls will be split anyway,
or, having been raped repeatedly,
hang themselves with their own hair.
These are the functions that inspire general comfort.
That, and the knitting of socks for the troops
and a sort of moral cheerleading.
Also: mourning the dead.
Sons, lovers, and so forth.
All the killed children.
Instead of this, I tell
what I hope will pass as truth.
A blunt thing, not lovely.
The truth is seldom welcome,
especially at dinner,
though I am good at what I do.
My trade is courage and atrocities.
I look at them and do not condemn.
I write things down the way they happened,
as near as can be remembered.
I don't ask why, because it is mostly the same.
Wars happen because the ones who start them
think they can win.
In my dreams there is glamour.
The Vikings leave their fields
each year for a few months of killing and plunder,
much as the boys go hunting.
In real life they were farmers.
They come back loaded with splendour.
The Arabs ride against Crusaders
with scimitars that could sever
silk in the air.
A swift cut to the horse's neck
and a hunk of armour crashes down
like a tower. Fire against metal.
A poet might say: romance against banality.
When awake, I know better.
Despite the propaganda, there are no monsters,
or none that can be finally buried.
Finish one off, and circumstances
and the radio create another.
Believe me: whole armies have prayed fervently
to God all night and meant it,
and been slaughtered anyway.
Brutality wins frequently,
and large outcomes have turned on the invention
of a mechanical device, viz. radar.
True, valour sometimes counts for something,
as at Thermopylae. Sometimes being right --
though ultimate virtue, by agreed tradition,
is decided on by the winner.
Sometimes men throw themsleves on grenades
and burst like paper bags of guts
to save their comrades.
I can admire that.
But rats and cholera have won many wars.
Those, and potatoes,
or the absence of them.
It's no use pinning all those medals
across the chests of the dead.
Impressive, but I know too much.
Grand exploits merely depress me.
In the interests of research
I have walked on many battlefields
that once were liquid with pulped
men's bodies and spangled with exploded
shells and splayed bone.
All of them have been green again
by the time I got there.
Each has inspired a few good quotes in its day.
Sad marble angels brood like hens
over the grassy nests where nothing hatches.
(The angels could just as well be described as vulgar
or pitiless, depending on camera angle.)
The word glory figures a lot on gateways.
Of course I pick a flower or two
from each, and press it in the hotel Bible
for a souvenir.
I'm just as human as you.
But it's no use asking me for a final statement.
As I say, I deal in tactics.
Also statistics:
for every year of peace there have been four hundred
years of war.
that alarms you.
This is why few people ask me to dinner,
though Lord knows I don't go out of my way to be scary.
I wear dresses of sensible cut
and unalarming shades of beige,
I smell of lavender and go to the hairdresser's:
no prophetess mane of mine,
complete with snakes, will frighten the youngsters.
If I roll my eyes and mutter,
if I clutch at my heart and scream in horror
like a third-rate actress chewing up a mad scene,
I do it in private and nobody sees
but the bathroom mirror.
In general I might agree with you:
women should not contemplate war,
should not weigh tactics impartially,
or evade the word enemy,
or view both sides and denounce nothing.
Women should march for peace,
or hand out white feathers to arouse bravery,
spit themselves on bayonets
to protect their babies,
whose skulls will be split anyway,
or, having been raped repeatedly,
hang themselves with their own hair.
These are the functions that inspire general comfort.
That, and the knitting of socks for the troops
and a sort of moral cheerleading.
Also: mourning the dead.
Sons, lovers, and so forth.
All the killed children.
Instead of this, I tell
what I hope will pass as truth.
A blunt thing, not lovely.
The truth is seldom welcome,
especially at dinner,
though I am good at what I do.
My trade is courage and atrocities.
I look at them and do not condemn.
I write things down the way they happened,
as near as can be remembered.
I don't ask why, because it is mostly the same.
Wars happen because the ones who start them
think they can win.
In my dreams there is glamour.
The Vikings leave their fields
each year for a few months of killing and plunder,
much as the boys go hunting.
In real life they were farmers.
They come back loaded with splendour.
The Arabs ride against Crusaders
with scimitars that could sever
silk in the air.
A swift cut to the horse's neck
and a hunk of armour crashes down
like a tower. Fire against metal.
A poet might say: romance against banality.
When awake, I know better.
Despite the propaganda, there are no monsters,
or none that can be finally buried.
Finish one off, and circumstances
and the radio create another.
Believe me: whole armies have prayed fervently
to God all night and meant it,
and been slaughtered anyway.
Brutality wins frequently,
and large outcomes have turned on the invention
of a mechanical device, viz. radar.
True, valour sometimes counts for something,
as at Thermopylae. Sometimes being right --
though ultimate virtue, by agreed tradition,
is decided on by the winner.
Sometimes men throw themsleves on grenades
and burst like paper bags of guts
to save their comrades.
I can admire that.
But rats and cholera have won many wars.
Those, and potatoes,
or the absence of them.
It's no use pinning all those medals
across the chests of the dead.
Impressive, but I know too much.
Grand exploits merely depress me.
In the interests of research
I have walked on many battlefields
that once were liquid with pulped
men's bodies and spangled with exploded
shells and splayed bone.
All of them have been green again
by the time I got there.
Each has inspired a few good quotes in its day.
Sad marble angels brood like hens
over the grassy nests where nothing hatches.
(The angels could just as well be described as vulgar
or pitiless, depending on camera angle.)
The word glory figures a lot on gateways.
Of course I pick a flower or two
from each, and press it in the hotel Bible
for a souvenir.
I'm just as human as you.
But it's no use asking me for a final statement.
As I say, I deal in tactics.
Also statistics:
for every year of peace there have been four hundred
years of war.
A careful, nuanced discussion of Punjab so far, and life in the care of S's wonderful family
Ohmygod, FOOD.
Standing policy at the moment is to eat whatever is put in front of you, and so far it hasn't steered us wrong. Not... even... close. All I can say is, Amritsar better be one hell of a place.
We love you, family of S. Please come to Canada some day so we can make you easy-scramble tofu and potatoes with garlic.*
*Maybe not. Maybe we'll just say thanks.
Standing policy at the moment is to eat whatever is put in front of you, and so far it hasn't steered us wrong. Not... even... close. All I can say is, Amritsar better be one hell of a place.
We love you, family of S. Please come to Canada some day so we can make you easy-scramble tofu and potatoes with garlic.*
*Maybe not. Maybe we'll just say thanks.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Rajasthan and on and on
So while we're slacking off at the Tandon residence in Chandigarh, we're taking advantage of their fast internet connection and computer to offer some photos. Quickly. Here: This is Jodhpur, the city with the major fort we visited and the blue buildings. This is also E looking happy. You can't see the blue of the city too much, and unfortunately uploading photos takes a long time so we'll show you all the actual city when we get home.
Rajasthanis have a real flair for detail, in architecture as well as elsewhere. The entire exterior of the citadel was all latticework, and no two panels on the entire structure are the same. Below is the interior of one of the major rooms of the palace part. That's real gold, and detailed paintings of the various rulers who lived in the citadel.
This is part of the exterior in a small courtyard where the women lived and spent their time. You'll see the latticework panels here. They're not actually lattice, I just don't know how to describe them. Carved, I guess. They look better when the photos are bigger.
Below is a view of Jaisalmer, the last city we stayed at in Rajasthan, which was the honey yellow sandstone. This is the view from our hotel room, looking out over the main gate to the fort and over the city.
Jaisalmer, of course, is where we took our camels from:
They had a fairly nice temperament; were huge; posed happily for photos.
The desert, as we mentioned, was beautiful. Again, I wish this photo was bigger. These are our camels at rest.
(Okay, I accidentally deleted the photo this referred to, and I've been fighting with this post for over an hour now, so the desert is just going to have to wait. I hate you, blogger.)
(Sorry in advance for the wonky spacing on this entry, I don't know what's going on...)
This is a shot as we were approaching the fort on the hill, which is in the top right corner of the last photo. It was really imposing.
Rajasthanis have a real flair for detail, in architecture as well as elsewhere. The entire exterior of the citadel was all latticework, and no two panels on the entire structure are the same. Below is the interior of one of the major rooms of the palace part. That's real gold, and detailed paintings of the various rulers who lived in the citadel. 
This is part of the exterior in a small courtyard where the women lived and spent their time. You'll see the latticework panels here. They're not actually lattice, I just don't know how to describe them. Carved, I guess. They look better when the photos are bigger.
Below is a view of Jaisalmer, the last city we stayed at in Rajasthan, which was the honey yellow sandstone. This is the view from our hotel room, looking out over the main gate to the fort and over the city.
Jaisalmer, of course, is where we took our camels from:
They had a fairly nice temperament; were huge; posed happily for photos.
The desert, as we mentioned, was beautiful. Again, I wish this photo was bigger. These are our camels at rest.(Okay, I accidentally deleted the photo this referred to, and I've been fighting with this post for over an hour now, so the desert is just going to have to wait. I hate you, blogger.)
Anyway, this is from the Rock Garden in Chandigarh. This random guy started building quirky sculptures out of trash from the city, and eventually the city found out and gave him a grant to work on it. So it's all made from reused materials. As you can see, it was pretty interesting.
So, sorry this entry is so patchworky. More, better, later.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Alright, let's make a deal: if this isn't the best vacation ever, we'll all agree to disband and join other families.
We've got S. Or, rather, he's got us. Thank you Tandon family for your hospitality.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
3 different kinds of pain
Oscular pain, muscular pain, and dermatological pain!
All in what you would technically describe as the "assal" region. Camels are boney, rocky, chafey, smelly buggers, but oh man was that fun.
Because I only have a half hour before my hour of internet is over, we'll keep this short.
Meaning, in list form:
SOME THINGS I'D LIKE TO REMEMBER ABOUT CAMELS:
- phenomenal patience, tough skins
- very bouncy at a trot
- with long necks and solemn eyes, they feel closer to a dinosaur at times than a horse
- more frequent defecation than any animal I'm aware of
- they require the co-operation of every muscle in your ass, legs and torso in order to walk comfortably... you must stay very loose in the hips and, well, everywhere
- saddles possess supernatural ass-blistering powers
- when in heat, they puff their tongues out the sides of their mouths and inflate them with foul, camel-smelling, gurgly air
- are gurgly creatures in general
- splay legs comically when eating, peeing
- will make you smell like camel.
(Bonus: - are spooked by old Soviet tanks)
And, that's most of the story right there. Except for the part where we parked (our camels) on the dunes, watched the sun set, and stared into the black parts of the sky as the stars appeared in the Thar desert. We camped out on the dunes and learned to make (well, roll) chapatis. In short, it was just beautiful.
E. wishes to point out that she made shadow puppets with the moonlight, which was unbelievably bright. And all of this is true.
But holy shit are we sore today. I didn't have stirrups on my camel for the first bit, and so was stuck using the thigh-clamping method of staying on top of the camel. Staying on top of the camel is most of what you do while on the camel. The remaining 3% of your energy is spent looking around. What you see is amazing, of course. It just leaves your inner thighs, butt muscles, back and stomach muscles, tailbone, and skin on your rear in bad shape.
For the rest, I guess, wait for the photos. Which we meant to upload tonight, but we don't have our photo keys with us, so, sorry. We got some great ones though.
We're sad to be leaving Jaisalmer - not because there's much left to do, but because it's so beautiful. But at 6am tomorrow we're busing to Bikaner and then catching a train to Chandigarh, where S. will graciously be meeting us, again, at the godless hour of 6am. That, we're very much looking forward to.
It'll be a few days before we blog again. Take care, all. Wish every one of you could have been there last night on the dunes.
All in what you would technically describe as the "assal" region. Camels are boney, rocky, chafey, smelly buggers, but oh man was that fun.
Because I only have a half hour before my hour of internet is over, we'll keep this short.
Meaning, in list form:
SOME THINGS I'D LIKE TO REMEMBER ABOUT CAMELS:
- phenomenal patience, tough skins
- very bouncy at a trot
- with long necks and solemn eyes, they feel closer to a dinosaur at times than a horse
- more frequent defecation than any animal I'm aware of
- they require the co-operation of every muscle in your ass, legs and torso in order to walk comfortably... you must stay very loose in the hips and, well, everywhere
- saddles possess supernatural ass-blistering powers
- when in heat, they puff their tongues out the sides of their mouths and inflate them with foul, camel-smelling, gurgly air
- are gurgly creatures in general
- splay legs comically when eating, peeing
- will make you smell like camel.
(Bonus: - are spooked by old Soviet tanks)
And, that's most of the story right there. Except for the part where we parked (our camels) on the dunes, watched the sun set, and stared into the black parts of the sky as the stars appeared in the Thar desert. We camped out on the dunes and learned to make (well, roll) chapatis. In short, it was just beautiful.
E. wishes to point out that she made shadow puppets with the moonlight, which was unbelievably bright. And all of this is true.
But holy shit are we sore today. I didn't have stirrups on my camel for the first bit, and so was stuck using the thigh-clamping method of staying on top of the camel. Staying on top of the camel is most of what you do while on the camel. The remaining 3% of your energy is spent looking around. What you see is amazing, of course. It just leaves your inner thighs, butt muscles, back and stomach muscles, tailbone, and skin on your rear in bad shape.
For the rest, I guess, wait for the photos. Which we meant to upload tonight, but we don't have our photo keys with us, so, sorry. We got some great ones though.
We're sad to be leaving Jaisalmer - not because there's much left to do, but because it's so beautiful. But at 6am tomorrow we're busing to Bikaner and then catching a train to Chandigarh, where S. will graciously be meeting us, again, at the godless hour of 6am. That, we're very much looking forward to.
It'll be a few days before we blog again. Take care, all. Wish every one of you could have been there last night on the dunes.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Jaisalmer and other things we shouldn't be wearing or doing
Jaisalmer, two weeks in. Beautiful honey-coloured city in the desert, big central fort with a separate half-city happening inside. One we're... destroying every minute we're here.
The Jaisalmer fort is one of the top 100 most at-risk archeological sites in the world. The sewage system was enough to serve the population that inhabited it for hundreds of years, but not enough to sustain the water glut of the tens of thousands of tourists who've snaked through it in the last half-century. The fort is slowly sinking into the desert as the pipes leak out into the base and destroy the foundation. Three major buildings have collapsed since 1990. This place is in serious trouble.
... all of which we did not know when we booked our hotel inside its walls, overlooking its main gate at the town whose livelihood and heritage we're helping to slowly destroy. In case it's not obvious, I'm not feeling great about it.
Especially since Jaisalmer is so lovely. Golden yellow sandstone, everything, narrow alleys, carved balconies. Very friendly people, (relatively) relaxed markets.
And, other than the fort, the thing most tourists come here for: camels.
Before you get all judgmental on us for doing something so touristy... well, actually, I don't have a good defense at all. We're taking a camel trek here. (E. again points out that I'm refusing to use the word 'safari,' and she is right.) We were going to do it in Bikaner, but found an arrangement here that makes more sense for us, plus we hear it's better here anyway. So at 6.30am tomorrow we'll be taking our jeep out to get our camels with the four other tourists we'll be spending the next two days with. We'll spend the whole of tomorrow riding our camels through the Thar desert, stopping in a few places, and then camp out on the dunes, and ride back the next day (we're told this will involve galloping... I'm excited, my spine is not). We'll be crashing at another budget hotel that night after we get back to the city around 6-7pm, and then at 6am the next day, beginning our day-long journey to Chandigarh to meet S. and his family. We're both excited to see him, and them, and are hoping very much that we don't still smell like camel. Which we almost certainly will.
Should we tell you about the pants? Probably not, I'm sure they'll be in enough photos before the end of things. If you really want to see an accurate sample in the meantime, google image search "Aladdin."
We may or may not be able to post again before Chandigarh (where we will be arriving on the 22nd). I'm sure by then we'll have some interesting stories.
Be good.
The Jaisalmer fort is one of the top 100 most at-risk archeological sites in the world. The sewage system was enough to serve the population that inhabited it for hundreds of years, but not enough to sustain the water glut of the tens of thousands of tourists who've snaked through it in the last half-century. The fort is slowly sinking into the desert as the pipes leak out into the base and destroy the foundation. Three major buildings have collapsed since 1990. This place is in serious trouble.
... all of which we did not know when we booked our hotel inside its walls, overlooking its main gate at the town whose livelihood and heritage we're helping to slowly destroy. In case it's not obvious, I'm not feeling great about it.
Especially since Jaisalmer is so lovely. Golden yellow sandstone, everything, narrow alleys, carved balconies. Very friendly people, (relatively) relaxed markets.
And, other than the fort, the thing most tourists come here for: camels.
Before you get all judgmental on us for doing something so touristy... well, actually, I don't have a good defense at all. We're taking a camel trek here. (E. again points out that I'm refusing to use the word 'safari,' and she is right.) We were going to do it in Bikaner, but found an arrangement here that makes more sense for us, plus we hear it's better here anyway. So at 6.30am tomorrow we'll be taking our jeep out to get our camels with the four other tourists we'll be spending the next two days with. We'll spend the whole of tomorrow riding our camels through the Thar desert, stopping in a few places, and then camp out on the dunes, and ride back the next day (we're told this will involve galloping... I'm excited, my spine is not). We'll be crashing at another budget hotel that night after we get back to the city around 6-7pm, and then at 6am the next day, beginning our day-long journey to Chandigarh to meet S. and his family. We're both excited to see him, and them, and are hoping very much that we don't still smell like camel. Which we almost certainly will.
Should we tell you about the pants? Probably not, I'm sure they'll be in enough photos before the end of things. If you really want to see an accurate sample in the meantime, google image search "Aladdin."
We may or may not be able to post again before Chandigarh (where we will be arriving on the 22nd). I'm sure by then we'll have some interesting stories.
Be good.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Ugh: A Post With No Content
Lazy. Had a big post in mind for today, breaking into the concern-as-colonialism problem, which I meant to start off with a long discussion about the concept of human rights - which I figured I'd eventually follow with one about the definition of colonialism and the paternalistic attitudes it's based on - and then, sometime after that, and probably in small bits spanning the rest of the trip, I was going to cough up some thoughts on how the two relate to each other.
But.
Came down here around 1pm all hot to get going, and we had a power failure (which apparently happens at the same time every day, although no one told us that). Now it's 4 hours later and I'm feeling tired and lazy. So maybe not today after all.
Tonight we're leaving Jodhpur, getting back on another overnight (we checked - tickets are correct) headed for Jaisalmer. We had an extremely relaxing time here, including lots of reading and eating, which was offset by one fairly physical day where we hiked up to the old fort above the city and saw that. The fort was really incredible, as E. mentioned below, and hopefully we'll post photos sometime soon. Those who have access can look at E's photos of Delhi on facebook in the meantime. I imagine we'll do another big round-up photo upload once we're done Rajasthan, which is really only another 5 days or so anyway.
Blargh, sorry, this post has no content. Just wanted to check in, say everything's cool, etc. Also, E. is going to be posting every once in a while, which I'm very happy about, and hopefully will be nice for those of you on her side who read this.
So, cheers. See you in Jaisalmer.
But.
Came down here around 1pm all hot to get going, and we had a power failure (which apparently happens at the same time every day, although no one told us that). Now it's 4 hours later and I'm feeling tired and lazy. So maybe not today after all.
Tonight we're leaving Jodhpur, getting back on another overnight (we checked - tickets are correct) headed for Jaisalmer. We had an extremely relaxing time here, including lots of reading and eating, which was offset by one fairly physical day where we hiked up to the old fort above the city and saw that. The fort was really incredible, as E. mentioned below, and hopefully we'll post photos sometime soon. Those who have access can look at E's photos of Delhi on facebook in the meantime. I imagine we'll do another big round-up photo upload once we're done Rajasthan, which is really only another 5 days or so anyway.
Blargh, sorry, this post has no content. Just wanted to check in, say everything's cool, etc. Also, E. is going to be posting every once in a while, which I'm very happy about, and hopefully will be nice for those of you on her side who read this.
So, cheers. See you in Jaisalmer.
Armouries
I've discovered a love for armouries. It's totally baffling, but they seem to have a pronounced effect on me. No matter how tired, hungry, or tired I am, looking at swords, daggers, rifles, pistols, armour, gunpowder flasks, backscratchers (yes, these are included in some collections) puts me in a fantastic mood. We visited Meherangarh yesterday and it was amazing. M. took a ton of photos.
-E.
-E.
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