YOU SAY BOMBAY, I SAY MUMBAI...


mumbai, india. the bus ride from goa was a nightmare. first of all the bus showed up about 3 hours late. the way it works in india is you have to check the licence plate of every bus that drives by to know which one to get on. there are no proper stops for private long-distance buses. the tour company will just tell you what street to wait on and then you have to check the plate of every bus that drives by and hop on the one that's yours. and yes, this can be very frustrating and confusing if you really don't know what to look for and when your bus is late, you have no one to reassure you that it's coming...you just sit there and hope...and hope....and then three hours later...well, hey there's my bus.


so the bus did actually have bunks on it. no seats, just beds. there were two rows of bunks (about a twin bed size) running down either length of the bus. me, being a single, had to share a bed with some strange indian man that i had never met. can you imagine them doing this back home? "uhh...yes sir, please climb into that bunk with that strange man for 14 hours...oh he's spooning you...well, deal with it!" And that's how it was...it sucked. The window was broken and rattling all night long and there was freezing cold wind blowing through a hole in the window all night. no, my bed partner did not spoon with me, but I can imagine that it does happen...there isn't much room...anyways, i only managed to get about 30 minutes of sleep all night long.


the bus dropped me off in goregaon, where my great auntie lives and from there i had to take a rickshaw to her apartment. of course, the driver had no idea where to go and we had to stop twice and call her for directions. by the time i got to her house, i was exhausted, but she fed me and i had a shower (indian bucket style) and watched some tv. later on in the day, my father's cousin and his wife got home from work with their son, adit, who i guess is my second cousin, and is seven. he was really excited to see me and i went and watched him play soccer with his friends and then we watched cartoons in hindi.


the next day i went touring mumbai. it's a lot cleaner than any other city i've seen in india, but it still has its share of dirt and air pollution and poverty. unfortunately, my great auntie's house was in goregaon, which is about 1 hour north of mumbai, by train. it's the equivalent of staying in abbotsford to visit vancouver. so i've spent a lot of time getting myself in and out of mumbai to see the sights. i saw the "gateway of india" and some old buildings in the financial district. i took a one hour (each way) boat ride to elephanta island and the elephanta caves. they are thought to have been carved between 450-750 AD and feature a number of hindu gods and goddesses engaged in scenes from a number of different holy stories. the best carving was a huge three-headed shiva, representing the creator, preserver, and the destroyer. it was heavily influenced by buddhist artwork and the faces are completely serene, in contemplation. the three heads are massive, almost three or four metres tall each and set in the back of a giant cavern, carved out of solid rock.


i also walked along the bay and marine drive and just today visited 'mani bhavan' where mahatma gandhi stayed during his visits to mumbai. it now features a museum with photography and exhibits on his life. afterwards, i headed to mahalaxmi station and the mahalaxmi dhobi ghats. this is a huge complex of concrete sinks where dhobi-wallahs clean clothing from all over the city. there are hundreds of these concrete basins and hundreds of men and women beating the dirt out of clothing on the sides of the sinks. it's quite a sight to see. i tried to go in to the complex and was stopped by a man who wanted 50 rupees ($1.50) as an entrance fee. of course, he was just trying to scam some money out of me. i refused, and found another doorway where the man there let me go in and take photos for free. haha!


now, i've finally found an internet cafe and am relaxing a bit before another bus ride (this one 11 hours) to ahmedabad, where the majority of my family in india resides. ahmedabad is a 'dry' city in india, meaning no alcohol can be bought or sold or consumed here; following the principles of Ghandiji who believed that alcohol wasted the soul and the mind. so i won't be having any beer for awhile :(

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i'm still on anjuna beach in goa. i've got a good seven hours to kill with my giant pack before the bus leaves tonight. it's a called 'sleeper bus'...which is kind of weird, maybe it will have bunks on it. it's going to be a long 14 hours to mumbai (bombay) and i'll arrive early tuesday morning. i'll be staying with my dad's cousin and his wife and my dad's auntie. it'll be nice to see some family here and have a decent place to stay. accomodation prices in mumbai are the highest in the country...almost three times the price anywhere else...so this is very good.


i've thought about my decision to cancel egypt and israel and i've come up with a 'plan b'. if i make it through iceland/england/ireland by september, i should be able to work for awhile in london (or northern ireland) and make some extra cash (my eu passport is worth its weight in gold). then maybe in november or early december, i can head to egypt and israel. it will be cool to see bethlehem for christmas (you know the supposed birthplace of jesus and all) and the temperatures in egypt will be a lot more forgiving. i can head home afterwards...
this looks like it will work. but who knows...it's still 8 months away and a lot can happen. so i'm not really cancelling them, i'm just re-ordering them...and i've heard that there are very cheap flights to cairo from europe, maybe even cheaper than from delhi...ha, so it will all work out. AND most of the israeli's (at least zuroo and tal tal) that i've met in my travels will be home by then and i'll know some people...


and this in the NEWS, when i'm bored i like to read Yahoo's 'Oddly Enough' news stories for the comedy that's in them. some lady in the states actually found the top of a woman's finger in her wendy's chili bowl. she put it in her mouth, bit down, spat it out and then vomited and is now distraught. they still don't know where it came from....this is real...you can read about it, but sometimes you can't believe everything you read.


so this morning i'm having breakfast...there was a big birthday bash at 'the dreamcatcher' bar on the beach here...and this guy wanders over and sits himself down at my table and says, "There's a problem with the boat." I say, "What boat?"
-- "You know, the boat."
he takes a slingshot out of his pocket and sets it on the table.
-- "I have no idea what you're talking about."
-- "That's what they all say, and I give them 24 hours."
-- "24 hours for what?"
-- "Can't you just be friendly? It's a secret."
-- "Then why are you telling me?"
-- "That...that is a good idea."
and then he goes and sits with another table, they don't know him but they buy him a beer, in fact two beers, because when they asked him if he wanted a 'king's' or a 'kingfisher', he said "I'll take both."
then he took the beers and dumped them on the ground, took their water and dumped it on the ground and then walked away to a different restaurant...
and we all started cracking up. this guy was beyond messed up...a little bit too much ketamine and chillim pipe...


i've had a lot of time to fool around on the internet here, because being by myself, there isn't that much to do, once you've exhausted the regular beach stuff: walk up and down the beach pretending not to notice the topless girls for half an hour, swim and ride the waves in for an hour, lie on the beach and suntan for a couple hours, have a beer, eat dinner...and well, that still leaves me with a good chunk of day where i'm very bored...


i started researching what i want to do when i finally get back to vancity. i'm going to be a 'Forensic Evidence Collection Technition' with the RCMP...it's a civilian position and doesn't require actually becoming a police officer. i could go through that, spend 5-7 years as a regular constable and then move into forensics, and that has crossed my mind...but being a police officer? could i do that? i don't know, i would be one of those guys that whenever we saw, at 3am somewhere in the bush, we would yell "scatter!!!" and disappear across the grass field and later regroup at the next elementary school playground...i would be scaring kids away...like a monster. i don't know...i'll have to think about it, if i actually became an officer first, it would mean a more involved position in forensics including investigation, which is something i'm interested in. i also love the science of it and doing the evidence collection part would be great too, my degree is in immunology and it lends itself well to the position. i don't know, i've just been researching it. but really, this is what i have to do, i remember writing mystery/detective stories for my elementary school creative writing classes...i have a whole collection of them...but back then i wanted to be an archaeologist, just like indiana jones, until i realized that it's not actually like that...


now, trying to figure out what to do with myself when this trip is finished. and yes, i have even seriously considered returning to korea for another year and padding up the bank account again, call me stupid, but i might actually go back...

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DEATH BY TRAVEL


well folks...i've made a decision, and it was a hard one and i'm disappointed, but what can you do? i've decided to cancel egypt and israel from my trip. i just don't have the time anymore...i was originally planning on only spending a month in india, but it's turned into two and a half and...i just can't fit egypt and israel in anymore. if i do still go, i'll end up in england in october sometime and it just won't be worth it anymore. this should save me money and time, and time is money (so it's doubly good). i still really want to see them, so i will be back...but it will probably have to wait until next year.


and i'm so frustrated right now. i'm sick and tired of being alone and sick and tired of the dirt. i'm sick and tired of the bugs: flies, ants, spiders, fleas, bedbugs, centipedes, mosquitos, cockroaches, in my bag, in my bed, in my clothes...i'm sick and tired of everybody calling me 'boss', 'hey boss, taxi bike?', 'hey boss, buy something!', 'hey boss, have a look in my shop!', 'hey boss, give me 5 rupees!', i'm sick and tired of everybody trying to rip me off, i'm sick and tired of the heat, i'm sick and tired of crappy, slow, internet connections, i'm sick and tired of lame renditions of western food, i'm sick and tired of dirty, stinky water coming out of the tap, i'm sick and tired of squat toilets, i'm sick and tired of nobody ever having change for a 500 rupees bill, i'm sick and tired of sand and muck, i'm sick and tired of riding in over-crowded hot buses, i'm sick and tired of never getting any decent sleep, i'm sick and tired of people spitting and blowing snot on the ground, i'm sick and tired of paan stains on the beach, i'm sick and tired of everybody littering everywhere, i'm sick and tired of piles of rotting garbage in the restaurant when i'm eating, i'm sick and tired of having to live cheaply, i'm sick and tired of watching people puke, i'm sick and tired of the smell of open sewers, i'm sick and tired of the staring...i'm just sick and tired!


thank you for bearing with that...i just had to vent to someone. you know travelling by yourself, you never have anybody to laugh at these things with...india is killing me.

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goa...if you have no idea what i'm talking about, then you haven't been reading this site enough. yes, i'm still in goa. i had originally planned to spend just three days here, but am now hitting the 2 week mark. yes...i know, it's where everyone goes, and yes, i know, everyone talks about goa...goa this, goa that. but really, it's well-deserved...the beaches here are some of the nicest i've ever seen in my life, and the it's not very touristy here...(yet)!!





so wednesday was the 'anjuna market' on anjuna beach. hundreds of stalls crammed onto the beach and the farmland behind the beach...i met a coupleof girls from sweden: jessica and maria, and we were up at the ungodly hour of 7:30 for breakfast and then the market. we ended up spending about 5 hours wandering through everything...i was getting sick and tired of the constant "hello...sir...please look...looking is free...come inside...just look!" i bought a 'dancing shiva' statue and some ganesha, shiva and ohm stickers...the kind that hindus use for makeshift altars in their cars.


that night there were a few parties going on...one at 'club cabana', a bar inland a bit with a pool and at the paradiso, on the beach. i was exhausted from the long day and kind of hesitant about going out to party all night long. i went anyway. it was a 200 rupees ($6) cover charge for guys only. this bar is huge...with several tiered levels cascading down a cliffside towards the beach. goa's known for its trance music so that's what i was subjected to all night. i met a few people from estonia, london and portugal and we partied the night away til 10am...

there were little indian ladies sitting around selling chai tea and cigarettes to drugged out ravers, and big groups of people passing around giant 'chillim' pipes filled with indian hash-hish. you cover the hole with cotton guaze to filter the smoke.


the next day i went just 2km north to vagator beach and spent 2 days relaxing there. there was an old portugese fort on a hill, that i hiked to, but not much else to see or do. just a bunch of people drinking beer and lying on the sand.




Arambol Beach, Goa, India

now, i'm on arambol beach. about 30 mins by motorbike north of vagator. it's much quieter and one of the least busy beaches in goa.



The Holi Festival


today is also the indian 'holi festival' day. i don't know the history of it, but it's the 'day of colours' where people run around with 'rangoli' powder in hundreds of different colours and throw it on people...by the end of the day most people are covered from head to toe in a rainbow of dried powder...

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glyn is in india!

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glyn is in india!

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ALERT: GARBAGE and COW DUNG TSUNAMI HEADED YOUR WAY


anjuna beach...not nearly as nice a palolem...there's a lot of black volcanic rock sticking out along the shore and the place i'm staying...i guess it's okay, but it's not on the beach...actually it's on a road, on a cliff and about three minutes walk to the actual sandy part of the beach. anjuna looks like it was hit by a tsunami, but a tsunami of garbage, and cow dung...and nobody has bothered to clean it up since. i'm here for three days, until thursday and then i'll head 1km north to vagator beach.


it'll do, but palolem was a lot better. i'm putting my money on the 'paradiso club' tonight. i was talking to some guys in panaji who told me it's the best club they've ever seen. it's arranged on tiered levels, the lowest actually on the beach and the rest rising above it and away. 300-400 people on a good night, even now in the low season. but a hefty cover charge of 600 rupees ($18) just to get in...drinks on top of that, my 600 rps/day budget won't go too far here.


wednesday is the famous 'anjuna wednesday market' where hundreds of vendors selling clothing, books, tattoo and henna art, antiques, incense, fruits, vegetables, etc... cram into these bamboo shacks at the south of the beach. it should be interesting...

and this is the kind of stuff i have to deal with: i went into a shop that had a big sign outside that read 'Internet and Email Here'.

Me: I'd like to use the internet.
Store guy: We don't have the internet.
- But it says 'Internet and Email Here'??
- Oh...that is just the name of the shop.


are you kidding me? are you fricken kidding me?

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after three days soaking in the sun on palolem beach, i headed north to the goan capital of panaji. it's portugese heritage is everywhere in the architecture of the buildings and the number of catholic churches and chapels scattered all over the city. this morning i went to old goa, the former capital, that once was said to rival lisbon in magnificence. it's now been reduced to a handful of old churches and cathedrals. those that are left are quite impressive. floors of old gravestones, massive ceilings and golden altars that rise 20 metres or more towards the roof and are covered in ornate carvings.



the incorrupt body of St. Francis Xavier, Basilica of Bom Jesus, Goa, India


one of the most famous churches is 'the basilica of bom jesus' which houses the incorrupt body of st. francis xavier. he was a missionary charged with the task of spreading christianity through the east. he died on an island off china some time in the mid-16th century. a servant spread three bags of quick lime into his coffin to destroy his remains in case the order came to return them to goa. remarkably, his body refused to decay and was returned to goa, india one year later. it was declared a miracle by the vatican, after a careful examination by a surgeon, who testified that the body remained in perfect composition, all the organs were intact, and even the blood was still fresh (remember this was a whole year after his death). afterwards, many of his body parts were spread through the world as holy relics. his corpse (now missing an arm and all its internal organs) is enclosed in a glass case and on display in old goa. every ten years, on december 3rd, the body is brought out and marched around the town...it last happened in 2004, so i just missed it, but i did manage to sneak a peek at the severly dessicated corpse through some glass windows, sitting high on a altar-like grave within the basilica.


and i officially hate the 'siesta'. i guess because of their portugese heritage it's a pretty big thing here, but it's also a big nuisance. everyday from 3pm-7pm the entire town shuts down...nothing is open...it's just what i imagine the town would look like at 3am...steel barriers pulled down over every shopfront and not a person in sight. you can't eat, get a drink (not even a pop), do anything...and so as you can guess, this time of day is very boring for me...thankfully, they've smartened up a bit on the beaches and are open...even if only for the tourists...



Anjuna Beach, Goa, India


tomorrow, i'll head further north to anjuna and vagator beaches (the center of the goan party scene)...i'll be on anjuna for the famous wednesday market...and then on friday i'll head up to arambol which is supposed to be a smaller, quieter beach...

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goa india. i took the night train from mangalore and ended up in margao, halfway through the province of goa at 4am. after that it was a couple of hours of nothing, waiting for the bus station to open up. then i had to backtrack an hour down to the southern tip of the province to canacona and that's where i am now. at palolem beach and it's amazing. a long 1 or 2km white strip of sand lined with palm trees and bamboo huts. it's what i imagine koh samui in thailand was like 10 years ago...there isn't a single hotel or building higher than one storey. all the huts are bamboo. mine is up on stilts with a ladder and the door opens right out onto the arabian sea. the water is warm and there's a huge round island out in the bay that you can walk to on a sandbar when the tide is low.


i'm here one more night and then i'm heading up to panaji and old goa and finally some more beaches up the coast, called anjuna and vagator which are supposedly the center of the goa party scene.

goa is the old portugese enclave here in india, and they have many foods that are a mix of portugese and indian. you might know pork vindaloo or the spanish sausage chorizo, which is like the goan sausage chaurisso.

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i've got an hour to kill while waiting for the train...
i was in this restaurant today and the manager came over to talk to me, like they always do...and answering strange questions from indian men has just become something that i've had to get used to...it's funny, there was an actual message on the front of the menu at the 'parklane restaurant' in mysore:


"Guests are advised to be wary of strangers who might strike up conversations as they may lead to unpleasant and risky consequences."


here's my conversation with the manager tonight:


manager: you are from which country, sir?
me: canada.
- ahhhh, canada. that is a very good place i have heard.
- yep, it's a good country.
- it is part of the united states, yes?
- no, no no no, it's its own country.
- really? so it is not a piece of the united states.
- nope. we're like india and pakistan, but more friendly. we're completely different countries.
- the language you speak in canada is what, sir?
- we speak english...and french.
- then you must be next to france.
- no, no no no, we are very far away from france.
- ahh, what country is next to you?
- the united states.
- so you are a state of america.
- nope, we are our own country.
- and who is your president, it is george bush, no?
- nope, we have a prime minister and our own government.
- so you are not under the control of the united states.
- no, we're different. he's prime minister paul martin.
- very good. thank you.


that's exactly what i go through about fifty times a day.
i also get questions like:


"How many Indians from Tamil Nadu [a state in india] are there residing in Vancouver?"
"What is the proportion of Punjabi to Hindu persons in Canada?"
"What is the cost of a ticket from Canada to Delhi in December of this year?"
"I have a friend who says he has a job for me in Canada, should I trust him?"
"What are the Visa costs for an Indian to come to Canada?"
"How much time does it take to get a Canadian Visa and what are the requirements for Indians?
"Are there many IT jobs available to Indian graduates in Canada?"
"How many exactly?"
"Do you have a Bachelor of Commerce degree offered in Canada?"

and many more just like that. whenever i am on the bus or the train or sitting in an internet cafe or walking down the street, people stop me and ask me all kinds of questions that i couldn't possibly know the answer to and they seem very surprised that i don't. i think that many of them think that Canada is just a small city in the US.


and of course, the usual stuff like:


"i have many friends in canada. one, i saw him the other day. he was walking on the street and i said 'which country, sir?' and he said 'canada' and then he kept walking and i did not talk to him more."


so...he's one of you GOOD friends then...


"i have one friend in vancouver, his name is bill, bill polson. do you know him? he lives in vancouver."


oh yeah...bill...bill polson, he's a good friend...


"i have met a man from korea. i have his name, it is here [and he shows me a book where the guy wrote a little message]. do you know him?"


yep, in a country of 50 million people, i know that guy...


"i am going to toronto, canada soon for one day on business. which number bus do i take to vancouver?"


you're gonna need a bit longer than a day...


so there you go...of course i understand that they are on the other side of the world and speak have 14 official languages in india, none of which is even remotely close to english....and in a country of 1 billion people, they've got enough to worry about without learning the geography and politics of canada. i just thought it would be interesting for you to know the kind of questions i get asked here...

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MAN GALORE...it's MANGALORE!!


mangalore, on the arabian sea...famous for manufacturing red roof tiles. there isn't too much to see here, it's kind of a stopping point for me between mysore and goa.


i spent today wandering the streets and went to the sultan's battery up in the north east of the city on the coast. it was just a bunch of rocks in a circle and some stairs. not worth the two hour walk in the sun. afterwards, i took a rickshaw to a temple where they keep one of the most intricately bronze statues in india, of the goddess lokeshwara.


other than that, i'm back in town and i've been working on changing my website layout a lot recently, so i hope you like what it's evolved to.


i'm taking the night train to goa tomorrow and i'm really looking forward to getting there and relaxing a bit and maybe actually seeing some other foreigners.

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MY SORE FEET


i'm in a town called mysore now. it's the 'sandalwood' capital of india, so there are a lot of vendors selling sandalwood incense, oils and pastes (and a lot of other kinds, too). it's also known as the 'incense scam' capital of india and there a number of scam artists that sell poor quality incense oils diluted with kerosene at high prices to unsuspecting tourists.


i stepped off the bus and within five minutes i had a man on my arm trying to get me to come to a special 'festival' just around the corner, where they had people hand-making incense and oils, for sale at very good prices. now, first of all, i wasn't the least bit interested in purchasing any aromatherapy oils. what the hell am i going to do with them? it just doesn't interest me in the least...and so i just said "maybe, i'll show up later." and then walked away really fast, and darted around a corner.


the next day, i went to chamundi hill, a giant mound of dirt and trees 15km outside town. on the top is a temple and a weird museum that shows how the 'immoral' and 'vicious' world will be destroyed and uplifted sometime soon by special gods who will teach us how to act like the maharajas did.


my sandal broke. seriously, like the fifth pair of flip-flops i've had in the last five months...all broken. and there i am on top of a mountain walking around barefoot, dodging all the cow shit near the temple (all the hindu cows lazing around) and some nice street vendor just happened to have some krazy glue and we glued my sandal and it was all good. especially, because i had to walk down the 1000+ steps to the bottom to get back into town, and i don't think i could've enjoyed it very much without any footwear...


from the hill, i went straight to the maharaja's palace, which was amazing and beautiful and unbelievable. marble, mirrors, tiles, jewels, statues, arches, stain glass...


then i headed to the devaraja fruit and vegetable market. i always love the markets. it's unfortunate most of the vendors don't like to be photographed because there are always great photo opportunities. on my way out, a little boy stopped me and spoke to me in perfect english. he forced me (yes, forced me) to come to his stall and see the 'rangoli' colours. 'rangoli' are bright coloured powder that are used as pigments for dyeing, painting and just as powder themselves to make elaborate designs on ashphalt. his older brother ran the store, spoke perfect english as well, and talked to me for about twenty minutes, eventually convincing me to buy some of these 'rangoli' powders for the whopping price of 50 rupees ($1.50). i'm happy, i'm gonna try painting with them when i get home. but it was a scam and a damn good one, he must've tricked hundreds of foreigners into buying his diluted incense oils. i knew not to fall for his bullshit though and just ended up with the 'rangoli'. why i ended up with anything, i can't tell you, these guys sell smooth as buttah!


after i left his stall, another boy accosted me and took me to his uncle's stall. seriously, you're probably reading this and thinking that you would've just walked away...but really, there is no escape. these kids are professionals. i watched him make and roll some incense sticks and then he told me all this other bullshit, and eventually convinced me to buy some 'lotus flower' oil for the whopping price of 50 rupees ($1.50). i hope its not full of kerosene...


then tonight, i'm heading out to grab a bite to eat and this little old lady (like, she came up to my bellybutton) stopped me and told me she was from iran, a lawyer with five degrees, practicing in mysore and would i like to have a coffee with her? fuck! again! i just wanted to get some food, but how could i say no? so there we go and i told her a lie that my friend was waiting in the hotel for food and i was to bring it at once. i still ended up drinking a coffee with her in this little indian restaurant and ended up agreeing to meet her tomorrow at 8:30pm for dinner and then get this, she wants to take me to the one and only "real" government licensed incense producing shop in mysore. now, c'mon, she was really, really nice and maybe like 80 years old and spoke perfect, perfect english, better than mine, but as soon as she mentioned the incense, i knew she was running a scam. so little does she know, at 8:30pm tomorrow, i'll be on a bus to mangalore, or hiding in the bus station in case she comes to look for me. i kind of felt bad...she said "i'll be making the 7km trip from my home, especially to see you. you are so nice, always smiling...you will really love this incense factory, it is wonderful...and you can bring your friend..." (yes, the one that doesn't exist, i hope this lady doesn't read blogs)


this is what really gets me. all these people constantly trying to scam me, and everyone saying the last one was the liar. listen people, you're all liars. i hate you all for wasting my time and making me do things and see things that i don't want to do or care about. what the hell am i going to do with some aromatherapy oil. can you eat it? no. does it get you drunk? no! so what the hell do i want with it?


why did i buy 'lotus flower' oil. what was i thinking?

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bangalore is wild. i'm staying by the city market which is very much india, hay all over the dirt road and people selling vegetables from baskets on their heads...but bangalore is also known as the "silicon valley of india" and there's another area called mahatma gandhi road which is where the more affluent youngsters hang out...there's actually a real "subway" where i just enjoyed a chicken tikka footlong with mint mayo....and pizza hut and movie theatres that play american movies and malls and escalators and fancy stores...did not expect it...


last night i got into bangalore pretty late and had a hard time finding a place to stay, there are so many people in this country, though not so many travellers, at least where i am. so many people that all the hotels and buses and trains are usually booked full weeks ahead of time...


anyways, i was exhausted and hungry and i had to choose between a beer or a barely decent indian meal with flies buzzing around and i chose the beer (everything closes at 11:00pm, so i didn't have much time)...i went into this little bar, most are pretty seedy in india, and this was no exception. i asked for an ashtray and they said just ash on the floor, and there was scattered papers and and dried food on the tables and floor and cig butts...so there i am drinking my beer and of course all the indians in there are staring at me, like they stare at any foreigner, and some are talking to me...and then i start noticing something strange, it just doesn't feel right, and the waiter was giving me free food and then....

i realize i was in a GAY BAR...

in INDIA!!!


now of course, this is not something that's out in the open here, it's very much frowned upon, but lo and behold of all the bars (and there aren't that many) i just happen to wander into the gay one...and then all these gay men were coming in, and you could tell by how they held their bags and hung their hands...and then transvestite indians in sarees...yes, sarees, came in and were drinking but sitting like men, but dressed like women...and i got out as soon as my beer was done...

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BACKWATER BOATING


in pondicherry last night at the ajuntha bar and restaurant with a beer and some chicken biriyani, i met two people, one a canadian from calgary, the other a former native of pondicherry who were both now living in dubai and working in the air attending for emirates airlines. they were on a short vacation here in india. so after beers and topic to topic, mostly on canada and chuck palahniuk-esque memories, we agreed to go rowboating the next day in the 'backwaters' of pondicherry.
on the scooter ride home we managed to crash and bail twice on asphalt, which left all three of us with scrapes and bruises...and the scooter missing a big chunk of plastic from the front handlebars...


it was a 9am meeting and thankfully, pondicherry's the kind of town that's asleep by midnight, so we were all ready bright and early. they had rented me another scooter so we wouldn't have to ride triples again and risk death (or worse) this time. about 8kms out of town we stopped at the 'pondicherry backwater park', rented a rowboat and tried to row to a beach we could see off in the distance. it was damn hot, and nobody could row particularly well and after a good hour or so we gave up the beach and headed back to the dock. it was nice, i'm sure the water wasn't too dirty, though a sign at the entrance read 'please avoid touching the water'.


then we all went for lunch at a nice little restaurant called 'the terrasse'. my questionable 'salami' pizza was actually pretty good.


now, i'm back by myself at an internet cafe, waiting for the 8 hour bus to bangalore at 11:30pm tonight. i've got another 8 hours before it leaves.


what to do what to do...and it's so fricken hot. i'm not even kidding. weather.com says it's 32C (90F). i'm dying.

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I HATE MOSQUITOES


there's so many fricken mosquitoes at night in this country...and they are bad because they have malaria...and malaria is bad...well they are worse, they are worse than the mosquitoes back home because they have malaria...


so last night, i was in my guesthouse and i had to spend all night chasing mosquitoes around and splatting them on the wall and now my walls are covered in black and red splotches everywhere...


but still, the bastards managed to get me, even though i was burning a big mosquito coil. i have to have the fan on at the same time because it's so damn hot, and the fan just blows the mosquito coil smoke away, so it's useless...


i either have to be really hot or really itchy, and i could get malaria and die...i don't know which one is worse...

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FRANCAIS BOLLYWOOD STYLE



pondicherry, former capital of the french colony here. small when you're talking about india, i think there's a couple of hundred thousand people that live here. it's beautiful, right on the southeast coast, with a long beachside promenade by the water. unfortunately, the beach just in town here is too dangerous for swimming and there's a big sign with a devil's head that says "swimming here is a death sentence, save your valuable life." there are a couple of nicer beaches about 6km north of town, called quiet and reppo. they are right beside a planned international community experiment called 'Auroville' which was started years ago by a couple of french people, one who went by the title 'The Mother.' it's supposed to be a community without international boundaries that no country can call their own and is divided into four separate sections where everyone works communally. currently about 2500 people live there, and something like 75% are from different countries around the world.



it sounds like a nice enough idea to me...but i'm telling you it's not going to work. it's a bunch of communist garbage that only works in theory or on a very small scale. st. thomas moore's 'utopia' was an amazing account of a perfect world/country/city, but i just don't believe in it in the real world. anyways, 'Auroville' is somewhat of an attraction near here, i don't think i'll be going to see it.



other than that, pondicherry is good because the majority of restaurants serve beer and i don't have to go down in some seedy basement bar filled with a bunch of moustache-men eating peanuts and yelling and by 150rps beer. i can now enjoy my beers on a rooftop terrace, with real food, looking out at the occean for only 40rps each. but, i do have to add that the nightlife in these cities sucks so far...there are really no other travellers my age and not even that many travellers at all, so i'm alone...alone in india...


i'm heading to bagalore by bus tomorrow afternoon...


and as for finding some other foregners, my money's on goa now...

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THE POOREST OF THE POOR


i'm in chennai, way down south in the subcontinent. i found a great little place to stay in egmore, just of kennet lane, and have a private semi-open air bathroom for just 150rps a night. it's probably the nicest place i've stayed in india yet, except the water smells like shit and mosquiotes fly in through the semi-open air bathroom all night and i had to buy mosquito coils to keep them out.


chennai is just another big indian city, nothing really that special here to make it stand out. my first day i went to avm studios, the second largest film production studio in india. some strange indian man befriended me on the bus and i though "god, here we go again." he wanted to acompany me to the studio and told me that he was musician who works there. apparently, it's easy for foreigners to get a free backstage pass and wander the sets during filming. the guy took me to meet his boss and then we sat around in his boss' office staring at the wall for about an hour before i finally got my pass. if i had gone in by myself i would've got it right away, but that's what happens, these strange indian men keep tagging along with me everywhere i go and ruin everything.


we wandered the sets and i saw them filming a dance and music scene in a big studio. the guy dancers were in silver jackets and the girls in black tube-tops with the main guy charcter in this satin black shirt with bug-eyed sunglasses, he must've been about 45. his love-interest was a girl who was probably about 20 and a little heavy, compared to what we're used to back home. anyways, they danced, they sang and that was it. apparently, he's a really a big star, i saw him sitting in his chair while people were adjusting his belt and his hair, and someone was hand-fanning him.


after that i went to a few more temples and wandered around the small poor areas around triplicane. it's so sad, especially the animals, who can't really do anything while the kids chase them around and beat them with sticks for something to do. i've seen so many dogs, so thin that i could put my thumb and forefinger right around their waist and they seem afraid of anyone who comes near them. but the living conditions of these people too, it's just unbelievable, the stench of the river, covered from bank to bank garbage, plastic bags, old tires, rotting paper and cans and the water is black and oily. there are huts lining either side of the bank and people are washing clothes in this water, and cows and crows and pigs wallow in the mud...and little naked children run around on the main streets playing with rocks and tin cans.


my time in puri was okay. it was about 9 hours by train from kolkata. there was an okay beach, littered in garbage and not a palm in sight, and all the hotels had 8am checkout which is insane. i went on an organized tour to the sun temple at konark, a unesco world heritage site and pretty amazing. also the lingarj temple in bhumbaneswar and a few other caves and stuff. it was a long day tour on a hot bus, almost 14 hours and pretty exhausting. the town was too small and all the vendors and rickshaw drivers started hassling me every time i went by, they got to know my name and talked to me every day, trying to get me to go with them...so annoying, i left as soon as possible.


there's not too many tourists around, at least not any my age. i've met one person that was around my age in kolkata, but other than that everyone is old and it sucks. last night, i manged to run into a big group of ten people around my age at the one and only bar in this city. they were all on the Semester At Sea program and had just docked in chennai that night. after a few beers we all went to see a hindi film at the theatre...a really strange experience. the audience got really into the film, yelling and clapping for different scenes. for some reason they split the dialogue between english and hindi as well, just suddenly throwing out some random english words mid sentence and then switching back to hindi. we left early and tried to find another bar. there's really only about two places in chennai that serve alcohol, the place where we were ealier and another bar in the park sheraton, lonely planet says it has a 750 rupees cover charge ($25) and the cab driver told us a single beer there is 1000 rupees ($33). We went and it was closed, they all headed back to the ship. Anyways, it was really only the second converstaion with foreigners i've been able to have in weeks...and good to finally meet some people.


tomorrow, i'm going further south to pondicherry. if you've read Life Of Pi by Yann Martel then you'll recognize the name. it was the setting for the first part of the story. it's an old remnant of the french colonialists and was the capital of their colony here in india. apparently, every restaurant there serves cheap beer and there's a nice beach.

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kolkata, india. the last five days have been exhausting. it's tough
getting around this city. millions of people...and the traffic, i can't even begin to describe it...there's no lanes on the roads, just one big roadway and you
keep to the left (well at least you're supposed to). pedestrians cross wherever and whenever they feel like it...they just go, but cars don't stop, they just dodge around you. at least i had some practice in bangkok, but i've already been almost killed....huge diesel buses packed to the brim with people like sardines, barrelling down at you at full speed and horns blaring, and scooters and cars, horse carts, cows, donkeys, chickens, stray dogs...and they're all coming from different directions...so you have to jump out of the way as the bus narrowly misses your toes and then jump back again to dodge a car coming at you from somewhere else...it's gonna take a lot of practice to do it
right...


the poor are everywhere...and as soon as they see my white face, they're on me, even little babies when they see me from far away, they start pointing and holding out their hands and then the mom notices and starts begging too...but i can rarely give just because as soon as you do, all the beggars will come running out of the streets and surround me and then it's over...they are the poorest of the poor, living in shacks on sidewalks made of bits of wood and tarped over with old pieces of plastic, naked children playing with old tin cans, people bathing at a pump-style tap and queueing to fill up jugs...


i went to the temple of kali called 'kalinghat' (in indiana jones and the temple of doom, the secret cult was worshipping kali). she's the destroyer and she's kept in the temple (a stone with three orange eyes represents her and it's not like it just represents her...this stone IS actually kali to the hindus). it's a very holy place and always busy...


anyways thanks to lonely planet i didn't get scammed too badly here and i knew what to expect...when they see foreigners approaching, a man will latch on and say he is a brahmin (the highest caste) or a temple 'priest' and agrees to show you around the temple, which he did and he was very informative...first i had to wash my hands in holy water and then sprinkle it over my head to purify me and then i took some flowers and red paper rings (he said "small cost, pay later"...i was weary, but had my hands tied at the moment and it was no time for talk of money) off we went and he said these prayers and then we went to see kali...now, inside the temple it was crazy, like a mosh pit and all these people in trances with their heads against the wall saying kali's name and women falling on the ground and everyone pushing and pulling to see kali and eyes rolling back in their heads...that kind of stuff, so "my friend" helped me get to the front and gave me a bindi with paint from kali's stone and then we got out again...


then i put the rings on a special tree and and made a
wish for each one (of the two)...


and then it came time for a donation. lonely planet said "don't be fooled by the book, the donations are falsely inflated, 50 rps per person for his services
is fine." i only had a 100 rps bill. so i look in the book, and all the other foreigner's names have donations of 4100 rps beside them ($125) and i said i didn't have enough for that, he started saying that they use the money to feed the poor and a bag of rice costs 4100 rps (yeah right!) after it all i said "all i have with me is 100 rps ($3), i didn't know i would need money" and he didn't seem too happy, but took it anyways...then we went back to the start, and he said "and it's 72 rps more for my services and for the flowers and rings" so i said "i just gave all my money away with the donation," he looked a bit angrier, but not mean, and said "okay, just 15 rps for the flowers" which i had and gave him and then got out...


it sucked because i would've liked to have stayed around and just watched everything go on but i didn't want him eyeing me all the time or putting curses on me...


anyways...it was a scam, nobody donates 4100 rps i'm sure...and i got away with only 115 rps, which i'm certain can by a bag of rice here where a restaurant meal costs 30 rps and i can eat on the street for 10 rps...hopefully it really does go to the poor and i felt pretty good that it did, because they were feeding the poor people rice, but i'm sure they must skim some off the top...


other than that i saw a big memorial to Queen Victoria, called the Victoria Memorial, the Nehru Children's Museum (with dolls and figurines and toys from all over the world and models depciting the two holy book stories of hinduism...there was one doll labelled as coming from Iceland, it looked like an eskimo and i got a little closer and read the tag and it said "This tag certifies that this handicraft was created by a genuine Canadian Eskimo. Please Enjoy!"


The "India Museum" built by the British during colonization and was like a huge vault with hundreds of rocks and dinosaur bones. the animal and art exhibits were nice (though old and falling apart and covered in dust) but the geology part...it was just a bunch of display cases filled with samples of every type of mineral and rock and jewel known to man...there must have been thousands, maybe tens of thousands, just a small dish, a sample and a label, in a huge hall...and it occured to me that no one vistor, probably in the history of the museum's existence has ever looked at more than five of these rocks under glass in one visit...really...


i also went to the botanical gardens...which were gigantic, and not very well kept either, but they had a 240+ year old Banyan tree that looked like a forest, but was just a single tree and it is still growing even after having its main trunk cut away in 1925 because of a fungal infection...


i walked across the busiest bridge in the world...the Howrah Bridge over the Hoogly River....over 100,000 vehicles pass over it everyday and probably more than that in pedestrians...it was just packed all the way across a wide, wide sidewalk and cars and buses speeding across the road...men carrying stuff on their heads back and forth, people selling chai tea and food...busy just doesn't do it justice


i've enjoyed getting up early (there was a giant street dog scrap outside my ground floor window at 3am last night) and i shower (cold cold cold) and then i can sit on little wooden benches with indian men all chatting away to each other about who knows what and drinking 2 rps (6 cents) cups of chai tea while smoking hand rolled indian cigarettes called beedees, the tea's made over boiling charcoal in a little pot right on the sidewalk and served in little 6 oz glasses that they "wash" by dipping in water and then shaking off


for lunch i go to a street stall and instead of paper plates, they form dried leaves into bowls and plates that are held together with toothpicks and pour in some dahl and chipatis and you just scoop it up and eat it with your hands...and then to wash up after, they have a big jug and you just pour it over your dirty hands and rub...feels very indian and cheap and i can eat a full meal for about 10 rps (30 cents)...

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