October 25th, 2011

Kohlapur, a city way off the tourist map and somewhere we decided to drop in on to rest and explore. If I felt like a foreigner anywhere along my trip, it was in this city. As we drove to our hotel  started to notice the English signs had largely disappeared and that there we probably more deer in the city than North American Folk like us (you’ll get the reference later). Submerged in a city where language barrier was actually quite a challenge, we hit the market streets the next morning, on the eve of Diwali.

The streets were swarmed with families buying and selling decorations, traditional means for the celebration and offerings. Jewelers, farmers and seamstresses displayed their colorful and not all that diverse goods to the crowds passing by. It didn’t seem like the ideal day to pick for my first true market experience. People participating in public austerities and other calling for attention flew by as I tried to frame a photo in .002 seconds without stopping my feet. My bartering skills, stealthiness and patience were put to test and I loved it.

This sand is used to make decorative designs and signs.

That day, we visited a Hindu temple. Sarah and I went in first, leaving our shoes behind with the other two where they would wait for us while we unexpectedly had an incredible cultural experience. Sarah and I walked into the temple with innocent ignorance planning to appreciate the structure and religious acts happening on the inside, but what we got was so much more. The structure was made of dark textured rock but  between the local’s attire and golden decor over select statues, the hallways were alive with colour. We followed the general stream of traffic through small hallways laced with incense and feeling the cool smooth stone under our bare feet. We both paused to take in a beautiful statue carved into the wall of the temple. After a few brief moments of appreciation we were ushered away by an elderly man. With confusion we followed him, and realized we had been blocking the view of a crowd on worshipers behind us. ‘well done Jen, well done.’ I thought to myself. Though the older gentlemen was very gracious with our ignorance and motioned for us to follow him. We did. We talked to him in broken language until another man approached us. This one asked where we came from. When he heard we were Canadian he asked if we were Christian. Neither of us are, so we explained we were hear to learn about and appreciate Hinduism. That man then left and another older gentlemen came by and gestured to us to follow him. Again, we obeyed. He lead us to a line of women and children filling into an area to seat. He briefly explained “pray time, pray time. Come sit.” before disappearing into the crowd. So we sat among a sea of saris on the stone floor and waited. Behind us were the males. When everyone was settled in, the beating of a gong filled my ears and incense filled my nose. The women started to clap along with the gong. We joined in. A young man holding a dish with multiple small flames passed over the statue in circles with the flames and the gong in many directions. A ceremony to honor the female god of the statue we had blocked the view of moments earlier. The loud beating gong and rhythmic clapping abruptly stopped and everyone stood up, and so did we. Walking out the older man from earlier tracked us down and ushered us on. Of course, we followed. We followed him and a handful of people including the young man with the gong. We kept following him, quite fascinated by the happenings we were taking part in. He lead us through narrowing hallways, up a tiny spiraling staircase and into a low ceiling room within the inner workings of the temple. The only object in the room was a red statue of Ganesha and an alter array around him. We stood in a circle, us and about 15 locals and one at a time approached Ganesha, knelt before him and bowed our heads to the base of the statue. The rhythmic clapping and beating of the gong continued. Next, each of us circled behind and touched the back of Ganesha before proceeding out. The parade went on. We were lead back down the staircase and to yet another statue. At this third location and the same ritual as the first repeated. At this point Sarah and I has no idea how long we had been down there and knowing Katie and Mel were waiting for us in the sun, with our shoes…we graciously let it be known that we had to be on our way. With profuse thank yous, we both left in amazement that we got to witness such an intimate event within a local  honored temple. When we got to Mel and Katie we hardly knew what to say, because we knew we had just caught a special opportunity that probably wouldn’t be created again as they entered.

I snuck this photo with my Iphone as we sat waiting for something to happen among the local Hindi women. Although potentially disrespectful, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to remember the experience forever.

Outside of a very odd museum Sarah and I visited that evening was a field filled with deer, peacocks and elk. I never would have thought I would see such a crew hanging out in India. We spent sometime saying hi to them. They were pretty adorable. Especially the little one below. He was very friendly. It felt a bit like home.

On the road again; next stop, Panaji, Goa.

October 2011

There are many streets in Mumbai to explore. After a one and a half hour taxi drive from the first home I stayed in, I still found myself in the heart of the city. It is a massive city. Non the less, I managed to unite with my three friends in the busy city that felt as big as some US states. I had not seen them in over a month and they had ONLY seen each other for an entire month, so there were tired smiles all around when I finally walked into their hotel room.

The days that followed were jam packed with learning the ways of how things go about in India. This was all mostly old news to the girls; Katie, Mel and Sarah who had been traveling through Thailand and India for a month already. After an afternoon visiting a place Gandhi once lived and the largest laundromat known to Mumbai, I turned our room key in the lock of our door looking forward to some quite. Instead of the door flying open and welcoming me with warm arms, I stood there with half of a key in my hand. The other half was nestled nicely in the lock, blocking us from rest, a clean washroom and a break from the chaos that Mumbai offers. All I could do was laugh because standing there, I knew this was not going to be a simple fix. About 7 hours later, the 4 hotel workers sawing and hacking at our door finally left our room. They left behind some wood chips but gave back our privacy and finally some quiet which helped us with the headaches it took to book our hotels for the next cities over the phone with crackling connections and broken English. Soon we would be leaving Mumbai in a hired car on a road trip down to Goa, and eventually Agonda, our final destination in India and the place I would call home for a months time.

“Inner Oneness pervades all life” – Gandhi 

No not clouds, smog. The smog in Mumbai is overwhelming. With the humidity clinging to my skin and pollution, at times I felt I barely could not breath. Using our scarves as masks to filter some of the heavy heavy smog (and to cover our faces from the countless photos curious locals liked to snap of us) was not something I wanted to get used to. I only hoped this would improve as we got closer to where we would be living and breathing our yoga studies.

The following is a photo of my orange Fanta bottle in a tree. Yes, a monkey stole my Fanta. On Elephanta Island where we were checking out some caves, this little bugger charged at me with a look in his eyes that made me chuck my bag containing my Fanta bottle, Mel’s coke bottle and our water far far away from me without hesitation. Happy to defer his agressive charge from me to my bag, I stood there pretty relieved as he grabbed the coke and Fanta and left the water behind. I went to retreive the water off the ground only to have another monkey begin to pounce. I gave into their evilness and surrendered my water. You win! The relief of having their attention off of me quickly changed to amusement and shock as the monkey up the tree removed the cap from the Fanta and proceeded to drink the orange liquid out of the plastic bottle. He then got bored…or lazy and let the Fanta pour down creating a orange waterfall that all of his friends had a little dance party in. Bastards.

October 2011

It has been a long time since I stepped off a plane in Mumbai. Truthfully, it feels like a lifetime ago. At the same time, all the sensations, sounds smells and feelings from the trip are as clear as they were the day I landed.

I surprisingly wasn’t as shocked by the traffic, noise and pollution as I had expected I would be. The big city with weaving traffic, the honking and even some sights felt familiar. Oddly, the smell of pollution felt comforting as it brought me back to memories of the welcoming country of Indonesia. Jakarta is actually busier than this extremely populated place, believe it or not (hopefully I one day will share my adventures from Indonesia on here as well)

For my first days in India I was taken into the home of one of my Vancouver friend’s Aunt, Uncle and cousin. Their home was a classic middle class home in the massive city of Mumbai. Honestly, I just spent the first days recovering from jet leg and trying to adjust to the heat. However, soon, I realized it was not only the travelling days that were wearing my body down; I had developed some sort of a fever/throat infection. In the next days I adjusted to the spicy pumpkin soup, fresh chapati and hot tea for breakfast and by choice, took ice cold showers as those moments were the only ones when sweat was not pouring off of me (without being really sure if this was from a fever or the heat…it was probably both). I went on my first tuk tuk rides, spent an evening at the family’s community church for a beautiful ceremony that lasted through a monsoon that caused the roof to leak. I learned a few things about cricket as the national tournament was taking place (it’s kind of a huge deal) and watched the preparation of chapati using ghee. One day we visited the market to pick up some vegetables and a phone for myself so I could contact my friends who were travelling into Mumbai from further north and also, call back home. I hadn’t had contact with home since leaving my hostel in Amsterdam except a quick expensive phone call to let my parents know I had been found at the airport and not lost in the sea of people as multiple flights unloaded at the same time after darkness had engulfed the city. Sean was certainty surprised to receive the phone call I made to him in the late hours of my night to catch him awake.  I had been desperately wanting to call. I had never felt so tiny and alone in such a big place despite the kindness of it’s people.

In between all the bodies and noise, there is so much beauty to set your eyes on in this country. The vibrant colours are endless.

Me! on my first tuk tuk ride.

-All the big trucks have something along the line of “HONK OK PLEASE” written on them because they don’t use side mirrors and when you’re driver hurdles your car between two of these bad boys, you definitely want them to know you are there. I’ll share more about honking fun later. haha

-Kite flying! These little boys kept reminding me of the book “Kite Runner”

Eventually it became evident that I should visit a doctor before moving on from the family’s protection to explore. After getting the full experience of their local medical system which included visiting a ‘chemist’ which is really a stand on the side of the road with all the drugs anyone could possibly need to fill my prescription of antibiotics, I started my recovery. By the time I was ready to say goodbye to the family who had taken in me, a stranger from Vancouver and cared for me like family, my throat was feeling much better. With hopes of seeing them again in my home town in the next year, I promised to call them to let them know when I had safely found my travel buddies and hopped into a cab.

I was off to my next adventures…more of them than I was prepared for.