Trekking in the Himalaya's

After a decompressing re-entry day of gathering together with my fellow meditators (men included), some quick internet stops, several meals (Amy and I even take a picture of our first breakfast), I trundle off to bed at about 8 pm. My tummy feels a bit unsettled with all the food I've been stuffing into it all day!

At afternoon lunch, several of us decided to do a trek and plan on meeting at the bus stop the next morning.

I can't believe I slept the whole night through with only a quick waking up at 4 am. But the alarm goes off, I'm up, dressed, and down at the bus stop to start the day's adventure. Turns out there will only be five of us and George from Spain arranges our day. Mind you, none of us have done much more than sit for the past 11 days, so we decide that ambitious trekking is out of the question! Rather, we take a taxi about 5 km up to the start of the trail head, all uphill. Bummer, its overcast, cold, threatening rain ... but what's a little dampness (afterall it's impermanent).

While we're waiting we fill up on street chai, biscuits, and fresh potato momas. Finally we pile into the taxi ... Priya and Ravi from India, Amy from Chicago, and George.

How wonderful! Views over the valley and up the mountain peaks that take your breath away! We understand it's about 2 km up to the waterfalls and we start scrambling. Half the time I'm sliding up and down the rocks on my knees or my behind. Every bit we come across a white arrow painted on the rocks ... good thing because most of the time we're guessing which way to go. Eventually we get to where we can hear the waterfalls.

Ohmygawd! Pools of water like I've never seen before!

We gather up some damp firewood and grasses, doing our best to get a fire lit (even sort of successfully). We sit about, eating crackers and peanut brittle (the Indian equivalent of Power Bars). George wants to dunk himself in the water, so Amy and I go up with him partway (he's of sturdier stock than I).

Now this is COLD water ... fresh, clean, drinkable, but cold! I decide to put my legs and feet in ... refreshing might be a way to describe .. everything's all a-tingle.

Such a refreshing little respite, and off we scramble back.

At the beginning of the trail, we discover a little guest house and restaurant ... Horizon Huts & Restaurant. What a gorgeous place, quiet, rooms with views overlooking the mountain, cleanest bathrooms ever. The owner cooks up some chai, soup, and grilled sandwiches. Ravi started talking to him in Hindi ... he quit working at CocaCola and purchased several acres of the surrounding land. He advertises only by word-of-mouth and avoids being included in any guide books. How peaceful and serene to come here ... I imagine a bit better when it's warm!

We walk back down to Macleod Ganj talking away about our Vipassana thoughts and experiences. Amy and I are the only first-timers and we all decide to meet at 6:30 in Amy's room (she had a coveted space heater). I'd been nervous about starting to meditate on my own and how encouraging to start with such wonderful people. We sat for 55 minutes and as we awaken, Priya and Ravi sang the Hindi chants to be happy, peaceful, love for all beings. So beautiful, so calming!

What a wonderful first day back in reality! Amy and I chow down on some delish pizza and salad ... and call it a night!

Be happy, be peaceful ... Vipassana

Let me start briefly at the end ... what an incredible experience! Vipassana is at many points difficult, invigorating, challenging, peaceful, mind-twisting. So many ways to feel the many sensations. So knowing the end, let me try to describe the daily meanderings (hopefully in not such detail that you nod off).

Macleod Ganj is a wonderful place! It's in the Himalayan foothills and home to the Dalai Lama. The Vipassana meditation center is nearby, just a short 2 km further up the hill. I'd arrived a day before the course start so that I could buy a warm wool shawl and to acclimate to the elevation (it's about 2,000 km).

I really knew very little about what to expect. I know it will be for 10 days, really 12 if you count the part-days. But with a mix of excitement and trepidation, I enter the front gate.

Day 0
After registering, we go to our rooms ... uh oh! I get a visualization of what it would be like to enter a prison cell. A simple (and rock hard) bed, one pillow, one window, and fortunately blankets. Simple-mindedly, I had anticipated heat in the buildings, but not so. Not only no heat, the windows seem to be all permanently open. This is going to be COLD! There's communal bathrooms and showers and (I'm skipping on clouds) there are two western toilets. Men and women are completely segregated and I'm wondering if we'll ever see a glimpse of them. There are 22 women and we start to introduce ourselves and chatter away before the impending silence begins ... eating our evening meal (kind of a polenta with some random peas and carrots) with some weak chai (lots of sugar required).

After dinner and a short rest, we gather at the Dhamma Hall for our first instruction and mediation ... and Noble Silence begins now!

Exactly what is Noble Silence? This means so much more than simply not talking. It means silence of body, mind and speech. What does that mean? No eye contact, no smiles ... truly as though we are each alone. We were asked to turn in our pens, papers, books, and camera when we registered (not that there was any time to read or write anything anyway).

Upon beginning our meditative practice ... what did I get myself into ??? I am sitting on this uncomfortable chair, freezing, eyes closed, not moving (but everything suddenly needing to be itched), and that's not the worst. We start with listening to an instructional tape ... S.N. Goenke talking half in Hindi, half in English ... I can only understand pieces of his accented English ... he starts Hindi chanting which sounds guttural, phlegmy, coughing interspersed. There's our teacher and his wife sitting up in front facing us, not moving, eyes closed. This is downright weird!

And then my mind ... chattering monkey mind! I start singing to myself, planning the rest of my India trip, the rest of my sabbatical, my life ... heavens knows the entertainment I provided myself ... I have a whole Hollywood set going on upstairs.

Day 1
Each day is the same as any other, starting at 4 am with gong ringing and bells in the hallway (gads, do they not know this is still the middle of the night and the only thing warm is your bed). Quick teeth-brushing, face-washing, dressing and shuffling off to Dhamma Hall for a two hour mediation before breakfast.

Since we're just learning the technique, we start with a day of nostril breathing. Like you, I'm sure, I've always been rather fond of my nostrils ... but let me tell you, I'm getting rather bored with them! It's 2 hours meditation before breakfast at 6:30 am, another 3 hours before lunch at 11 am, 4 hours before tea break at 5 pm, 1 hour mediation before a 90 minute video tape by S.N. Goenke talking about Vipassana theory, and lastly about 45 minutes of final mediation of the day.

But first let me tell you about my meditating. At registration, I had asked to sit on a chair (my quads don't think sitting cross-legged is fun) and it's considered rude to have your feet toward the teacher. This is no fancy chair, rather just one of those cheap white plastic outdoor chairs you see in the states. I'm sitting there with one blanket wrapped around my waist, an even thicker wool blanket over my legs and tucked under my arms, and my red-tibetan-monk wool shawl draped over my head and wrapped around my arms. I can't see anything and it's only open enough that I have air to breath.

The cold in Dhamma Hall is punishing. Probably even more so because your core temperature plummets while meditating. Add to that, in the morning you've gone 12-ish hours without any nutrition at all.

And the noises ... people snoring, coughing, scratching, twitching, sneezing, nose-blowing. I probably shouldn't say too much since I'm sure I was doing all the same!

Day 2
Something new for today ... feeling the sensation of breath on our upper lip. Yup, that's 10-ish hours of feeling your upper lip!

I'm beginning to starve! All I can think about is FOOD! I'm delirious for prime rib and baked potato ... would probably sell my car for just one meal.

But speaking of food, let me tell you a bit about the cuisine! The expectation is that we live like monks or nuns ... in that we get food similar to what we would receive by begging. Morning is usually some sort of porridge with a very random raisin or nut (that's not plural), and frequently some fresh mung beans. There's weak chai. Fortunately, sugar and salt is left out in bowls for us to use as we like ... there's certainly no salt in the food! We take our metal plate, cup and spoon and help ourselves out of the big pots, sitting in long tables (silently of course) ... eating as fast as you can because the room is freezing and if I drink my chai quickly, I have time to get a second cup (joy of joys).

Lunch is plain cheap white rice, chapatti, dal, simple vegetable soup, boiled veggies, sliced fresh cucumbers and tomatoes, and some sort of cooked vegetables in an Indian kind of sauce. The veggies were many kinds ... cabbage, potatoes, eggplant, peas, beets, carrots, chard, green beans, tomatoes, did I mention cabbage, and cauliflower. Because onions and garlic are not conducive to meditation, there were none. Neither was there any oil or ghee (Indian butter), with the exception of one day when the veggies were cooked in the slightest drop of oil ... I almost licked my plate that day. We didn't get any chai at lunch, only cold water ... but we get a small cup of plain curd, and sometimes even one small cookie (that's an event to remember the whole day).

Dinner ... not! Only a tea break where we had the usual weak chai ... and this seasoned puffed rice with peanuts (I counted and we usually got around 20 peanuts in four spoonfuls). Yeah, we got one piece of fruit ... usually a teeny banana. Horrifying, we got this much food for tea break because we were new students ... now that I'm an old student, I'll only get hot lemon water!

Day 3
More breathing today, but now with a greater focus on a smaller area of our nostril and upper lip. Am I going to have 7 more days of nostril work? It rained all night, everything is wet and cold, I would love a shower (but my hair will never dry). I'm not sure I can really handle this, should I leave now? I've gone beyond prime rib, and now I'm dreaming of anything food related ... pizza, spaghetti with meatballs, bacon and eggs.

The excitement positively erupts! At the end of day 3, we learn that in the afternoon of day 4, we're going to learn the next step to Vipassana. I have no idea what that means, but I feel like I'm winning the lottery ... my excitement (not that I can tell anyone) is overwhelming!

Day 4
In the afternoon after lunch, we learn the true Vipassana technique. I guess the nostril stuff, was just preparing us for the real thing. My simplistic description is not going to do justice to the technique, but let me try ........

Vipassana is silent meditation. The concept is that every sensation is impermanent, and that everything is a sensation ... either a craving or an aversion. Everything manifests itself as a sensation, regardless if what it is. If you are ill, you will feel a sensation in your body if you really focus ... likewise if you are stressed or angry ... or, thinking of doing something criminal ... or, craving something such as food, alcohol, or cigarettes. There will always be a bodily sensation and a change in respiration. By focusing on your respiration, and scanning or sweeping your mind throughout your body ... from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, and from the tips of your toes to the top of your head ... you can observe the bodily sensations and by knowing that sensation is simply impermanent, layer by layer it will leave.

Interestingly enough, they have used the Vipassana technique in Indian prisons (at their worst of the worst prisons) with huge successes. I heard they have also used in US prisons, but I'm not sure where.

By the end of the day, we have heard the theory and technique, and I give it a try. Wow, this is great ... but naturally, I have to be careful not to crave the feeling, since even the feeling of meditation is only an impermanent sensation! And I suppose I should fess up that my mental Hollywood set now features singing ... the arm bone connected to the shoulder bone!!!

Day 5 and on
Sort of like groundhog day ... over and over! We get some slight variations on the theme every day, but it's really the same. It's practice, practice, practice! Now we enter the realm of "Sitting of Silent Determination" ... meaning, when we start the meditation, you cannot leave, move, or open your eyes ... nothing! Good grief, that's hard! I was sitting at the back of the room, and when I peeked out, everyone is sitting like statues (am I the only one).

Day 6
We were told this was the hardest of the days ... the day when most people leave if they're going to. By now, I'm more curious than anything about how it will all play out, so I decide to stay. But I notice there are four empty cushions by the end of the day.

What was our daily entertainment? We had a wide-screen, surround-sound, real-life Animal Planet, complete with evening sunsets ... starring the Dharmasala monkeys, with supporting cast of a few dogs, one small grey kitten, the occasional cow, and scores of eagles soaring through the Himalayan snow-capped peaks. One observed the monkeys only from a distance ... they liked to grab at your clothes and weren't the friendliest of critters. If they were in the path, usually best to find an alternative. Noisy guys though and they loved to bounce up and down on our tin roofs (sounded like a bomb was going off).

And finally the end!
After the morning instruction and meditation on Day 10, the Noble Silence ends. I surprisingly had come to enjoy the silence ... almost didn't want it to end. And we all walk out into the sunshine (along with the cold, it rained two of the days), hugging each other like long-lost friends, and immediately start chattering away. We all had been watching each other out of the corner of our eyes for so long and had so much to catch up on.

Meditation after the end of Noble Silence is most difficult ... my mental Hollywood set goes into over-drive. But we make it through, getting our last instructions. We learn that through Vipassana, all should be happy, be peaceful. We learn about the Vipassana concepts of love and compassion for all.

WOW! I have learned so much in this short 10 days. Will I be able to remember the techniques? Will I be able to continue my meditative practice? Will I be able to show love and compassion for all beings? I am so thankful that I decided to attend Vipassana while here in India. I still don't know how it has changed me or how it will change me in the future. Nonetheless, I know it has made an impression upon my life view.

Will I attend future Vipassana sessions? Now that I am an old student, I can attend any of the Vipassana sessions for shorter (or longer) time periods to refresh myself. And there are Vipassana centers world wide - even three in California (and I hear they get more and better food there).

And on day 11, after cleaning the center (toilets and all), we grab our backpacks and walk back down to Macleod Ganj where we begin to eat and talk, eat and talk, eat and talk. Will I remember Vipassana as I re-enter my real world?

Be happy, be peaceful!

About those worst of times ...

Well, I knew it would happen ... I just didn't know when! That being the worst of times (or perhaps it won't turn out to be the worst afterall).

I needed to travel from Jaisalmer to Macleod Ganj, which is well into northern India. I had met with the Ganesh travel agent to figure out the best way (and timing) of traveling. Unfortunately, because of Jaisalmer's proximity to the Pakistan border, they have closed the airport ... so bus and train was my only choice. And with all that, I knew it would be a LONG travel day ... I just never could have dreamed of exactly how long!

First leg of the trip ... taking a bus from Jaisalmer to Bikaner. I arrive full of high hopes at the bus station, bus ticket in hand! I had a bit of a wait, so I join an Indian woman sitting on a cement platform sort of thing under a tree. Minutes go by, and all of a sudden I realize both the Indian woman and I are covered in ants. Our clothes (and my backpack) are moving! Where did these things come from? We jump around swatting at each others clothes ... and after much effort, most of them are gone.

Well that's not so bad, the bus arrives, we all board ... no worries! Nothing but a usual bus experience. We stop a couple of times at typical Indian bus stops, and without fanfare, we arrive in Bikaner.

The travel agent had been unable to get me a train ticket, but he assured me that I would have no problem getting on the train as long as I proceeded directly to the station for the 1:45 am train. Well, sort of! I arrived about 9 pm, got jostled around from counter to counter ... and was finally told to wait here until midnight when I could buy a ticket. Given that I was carrying my backpack, I was not too inclined to go exploring in the city, so I sat in the women's waiting room reading my book.

Midnight ... ticket buying time. One nice thing about India is that women can (and are expected to) jump into the front of any line to get waited on, so I elbow my way to the front to buy my ticket. I didn't see a seat number on the ticket, but they kept assuring me no problem ... and wouldn't do anything about it anyway. I had wanted to buy 1st class which is supposed to be relatively nice, but the train (and these are long trains) had only 2nd class sleeper accomodations.

I find the right track, and settle in to wait for the train. I'm a bit nervous at this point about eating and drinking because of the horror stories I've heard about train toilets! So, just a few sips of a Mirinda soda here and there ... that's it (and I'm starving)!

Finally the train arrives. I had talked to an Indian man who said he was heading in the same direction as me, so I follow him onto the train just to make sure I'm in the right place. And the sheer horror of it all hits me!

There are no lights on inside the train, because afterall it is a sleeper train and everyone is sleeping. There are bunks three high and right next to each other (only at most 3 feet in the aisles). There are cars after cars after cars of these sleeper accomodations. And I realize I really don't have a seat number.

Now let me put some perspective on what I was facing ... I had no seat number, I had no idea how the seats were numbered even if I had a number, everyone on the train is already sound asleep, it's pitch black with all the windows shuttered, there is not a foreigner to be seen anywhere, no one speaks any english, there is no train conductor to be found, and I am facing a 14 hour train ride to Pathankot. There is no room in the aisles to move so the only place on the floor I can find to sit is next to the toilet door (I will spare you the aromatic details on that one).

I am feeling at this point at about the lowest of the low ... what have I gotten myself into, how can I get out of it ... I am sitting on the floor next to an Indian toilet, my head in my hands, with my backpack and my daypack feeling very sorry for myself. It can't get much worse!

After about half an hour, I figure I've got to do something ... there's got to be one blasted seat in this entire train that is empty. So off I start. I walk from car to car to car ... and finally, I find a seat. I'm not sure what to do, but I lie back with my pack propped up against the wall.

Finally the conductors come walking through, snapping on overhead lights, awakening everyone to look at their tickets and seat numbers. They look at my ticket and start in with "this is not your seat number Madam". I'm sure I looked a wreck ... frantic, forlorn, desparate, you pick the words! Thankfully they took pity on me. I'm not sure all that happened, but after much to-do, they rousted some poor unhappy Indian and kicked him out of his seat and gave it to me. I knew I would have to pay more (another RS80 gladly), and I tried to give him a tip which he flatly refused.

I'm numb with shock and relief, but I curl up in my short little sleeper, backpack chained to the wall and sleep as best I can.

Daylight arrives ... and I look around at my accomodations! Luxury ... not exactly! I'm the middle two windows in the picture. But at least it's a seat!

And on it goes ... the miles, the train stops ... 14 hours is a really long time! At one point, I get off the train to stretch my legs and see some food that I can eat (other than some packaged biscuits and my little sips of Mirinda) ... and realize the train is starting to move. Aargh, that would be even worse! I sprint to the train, food long forgotten, and grab the train railing, jumping on (just like in the movies).

Finally the train station arrives (and I didn't miss it)! But it's still another 3 hours to Macleod Ganj. I was originally going to take the bus ... forget it! I make my way to the prepaid taxi stand and pay a whopping RS1,150 for a taxi.

Even better, I have a room when I arrive that's not too bad! Not having really eaten in the last 24 hours, I settle in to a huge dinner and a pot of milk tea. And it's even yummy Tibetan food ... no curry! In the morning, I take a walk around, go to the internet cafe ... and realize this is a gorgeous village. Friendly people, spectacular views! I'm going to enjoy spending the next three weeks here.

Perhaps the past couple of days truly showed me the absolute worst ... but also the absolute best that India has to offer.

And with that, dear reader, I bid you a brief goodbye! Tomorrow, I will begin my 10 days at the Vipassana meditation center, studying the art of living ... and talking is forbidden. I'm a bit nervous about it all. How will it change me? How will I cope with the silence, my feelings? I know little about what will happen, except for one thing ... it will change me.

Namaste!

Sweet Lalu

It's camel time! Excitedly, we start bright and early in the morning at breakfast ... meeting our fellow camel mates. We hale from all over the globe ... Spain, Guatemala, Israel, Australia, and Italy! After all the how-do-you-do's, we head outside the Jaisalmer fort, and meet our jeep that will be taking us to the start of the safari.

He drives us into the desert, drops us off with 3 huge bottles of water, fresh provisions, and wishes us well. And my most important introduction ... Lalu! Lalu is a 5 year old camel, stunning curly redhead. He's gentle and strong, with a bit of an attitude. Our camel driver, Mr. Kahn, calls him the super deluxe camel model!

Ah, there is so much to remember from those wonderful 2 nights and three days ... so much to cherish and appreciate from the desert, the companionship. Let me share with you my many memories .........

I've not much experience in riding horses, so I don't know if camel riding is similar. Their gentle walking gait is pretty slow and rhythmic. But don't be fooled, they can trot along pretty fast. You feel like you're way up there (you are), always hoping that everything's snug and tied together. They sit (usually politely, but with much encouragement) while you're getting up onto the seat ... which consists of a saddle and all your bedding, and the water and food provisions are tied down behind both you and their hump. They put their front legs down first to sit ... feels like you're about to be dumped on the ground, until they curl up their back legs.

We ride along for about 4 hours in the morning, then it's time for lunch cooked up by the drivers. There's a nice cool-ish breeze in the morning, but it turns blazing hot well before noon. We stop in the shade of a thorn tree, a lunch of vegetables, dal and chapatti ... and then nap-time for 3 hours or so. Post lunch, we head on out for another couple hours of riding until we find a sand dune to settle down for the evening. The sunsets are to die for!

The moonlight ... I've never seen anything like it. We'd be all snuggled up in our camel bedding, watching the stars, dropping off into a slumber ... and at about 11 pm or so, you'd be awakened by the bright moon rising. So bright, it was almost like sunlight (well, maybe not quite).

Amazing the cuisine they can whip up, with nothing more than one knife and one spoon, two pots, two pans, and some rocks and firewood they collected. OK, there's the occasional sand bit here and there, but so delicious. We started off every meal with a cup of chai, while they cooked the meal. We each get a plate with our food ... lots of it ... and I do mean just a plate (using utensils are not a typical Indian habit). But you always have your chapatti to scoop ... right hand naturally.

Since I'm on the food theme ... yummy breakfasts! Hard boiled eggs (heaven knows how they stayed fresh on the back of the camel for two days), toast, peanut butter and jam. Mr. Kahn would bring around our cups of chai while we were still snuggled in our bedrolls, watching the sunrise. Room service!

After dinner, we'd sit around the campfire talking. The Israeli brother and sister sang beautiful Israeli desert ballads. We had a backgammon board. You'd think that we were so far out in the middle of nowhere that we'd never see anyone ... quite the contrary. As soon as we would settle in, folks from the neighboring villages would wander over, either walking, on camel or donkey to catch up with the camel drivers and look at the tourists (always lots of staring going on). The funniest is that in the evening a young boy would arrive carrying a wet burlap sack of soda and beer ... RS20 for a bottle of soda. Amazing ... it was pretty cold, and there is no electricity anywhere ... all because of the way they keep it stashed in the wet burlap sack. And how on earth do they find us out there?

Another food find! Indian watermelon. It's about the size of between a grapefruit and cantaloupe ... it's all white and tastes a bit like a salty waltermelon, or maybe slightly cucumber-ish. It seems to grow like weeds throughout the desert.

And a small red berry called "boor". It was about 1/2 inch in diameter, had a pit similar to a cherry pit ... and tasted a bit like a dried apricot. I never spotted the bushes they grew on, but they picked them from somewhere for us.

Bathing ... not! Toilets ... not! At each stop, we'd pick our favorite tree for bathroom use. After 3 days, I'm quite sure we are quite aromatic, and strongly suggest no one stand down wind from any of us.

Humorous little camel tidbits. We always stopped each day for the camels to get water. I guess they have a certain water capacity and that's it! When they refuel they dunk their whole snout in the water and slurp. Simultaneously, anything they are replenishing is coming out the back end. I guess that's basic physics ... what goes in, must come out.

Whenever we stopped, the camel drivers would unpack their saddles, hobble their legs and let them feast on the local cuisine. But, even with their front legs tied together they can travel a long ways! They each wear a bell so the drivers can find them, but one night Mr. Kahn was up until 1 am searching for one of the camels. They really liked the "beckah" (that's what it sounds like) and the drivers collected it for them whenever they could find it.

Ouch ... about that riding for 3 days! By the third day, my poor legs. When I dismount, I can only hobble for several minutes. My thighs may never be the same again!

What an experience ... I wouldn't have missed it for the world!

All the colors of Rajasthan!

So many Rajasthan colors ... the pink, yellow, white, and blue cities ... and lastly the golden city of Jaisalmer.

Irene and I hit the bus stand and continue west to Jaisalmer, situated about 100 km from the Pakistani border. Pretty easy to tell a border is near with the ever-reaching and slow-moving convoys of military vehicles heading west.

Gasp, it was an uneventful trip! Bus stand fast-food find ... deep-fried doughy kind of stuffed pancake with a sort of curry, maybe dal filling. Hot out of the oil and served in a piece of newspaper. Yummy! Of course, I have no idea what they are called.

About 6 hours later, rather early in the afternoon, we arrive. You know, I think I may be becoming ok with all the yammering and pestering that is so India. Until now, I found it all a bit unnerving! We get off the bus and are descended upon by maybe 20 to 30 rickshaw drivers, all wanting to take you to their hotel in their rickshaw. They are all standing inches from your face, pushing business cards at you ... the din is overwhelming. This time, it was so over the top, I just started laughing and yammering back at them, at their volume of course. I've learned from day one ... always have your guest house reservations made!

The guest house du-jour is Ganesh Guest House. I can't believe my good fortune ... another guest house that's clean, towels, toilet paper, and with a mirror. It even had a little sitting alcove overlooking the street.

The big thing to do in Jaisalmer is the camel safari's. Irene and I stop by the Ganesh travel service and figure out our travel plans post-Jaisalmer and book our camels ... and I go for the gusto with 2 nights / 3 days (what was I thinking).

We stop by the fort as the sun is beginning to set. Yes, it's still gorgeous. We wander around, do more shopping.

At this point I learn the joy of Indian banking. I've had good luck with using ATM machines (and my credit union doesn't charge me any fees). Except this time, every ATM in the city (that's all three of them) is either out of order or out of money. I can always cash some travelers checks, but I hate paying the fees. Anyway, I have a few rupees left, and cross my fingers that's enough for now.

We head off to dinner and call it a night ... with visions of camels trotting along in our heads!

The blue city

I had initially thought Jodhpur would just be a brief stop on the way to Jaisalmer ... but I'm so glad I'm spending two nights. What a lovely city!

When you look at the city from the rooftop, it's really blue. Supposedly, the blue comes from indigo, which is thought to be a mosquito repellent. Hmmm!

Speaking of mosquito's, I've been lucky so far, especially considering Delhi is having an outbreak of denge fever, not to mention the usual malaria. And (gulp), I've not taken any malaria pills (I'm just carrying them around). My arsenal has been ... souring my blood with grapefruit seed extract drops and my usual vitamin pill. I did pack nutritional yeast, but I just can't stomach that stuff. I've the usual Cutter's spray-on stuff and my secret weapon is these high-tech socks that are DEET impregnated. They're supposed to last for 25 washings (no problem with my laundry frequency). Knock on wood, something seems to be working. So far, I've only been zapped with a handful of bites mostly on my arms. Compared to a woman I was sitting across from at breakfast whose legs and feet were covered - she didn't have a spot of skin without huge welts.

Interestingly enough, in querying my fellow travelers (always a lively topic of conversation), few folks seem to be taking malaria pills ... not sure whether that's a good or bad thing!

After another delish breakfast, Irene and I hire a rickshaw and begin our sightseeing day!

First stop Meherangarh (pronounced meringue-gah). This is still run by the maharaja of Jodhpur and is gorgeous. The admission includes an audio-tour (yup, I was a bit skeptical about that), but how interesting and well done. The grounds, museum, architecture are in tip-top shape.

Near the exit is a palm reader ... how can I resist? Dear reader, do you really think I'm going to tell you everything he said on a public blog? I think not! For the watered down editorial ... it was fascinating and a wierdly spot on ... of course, time will tell about the future! He did all sorts of measurements and counts of the lines on my palm. He told me about my health, my finances, my work and love lives. Skeptically, it did seem he was telling all the westerners about our sensitive stomachs ... duh, that goes without saying here!

And for a sobering factoid about women ... particularly sobering in that it lasted until the mid-1900's. If a woman's husband died, she left the fort with his funeral procession, and placed her henna'd handprint near the entrance wall. She followed the procession to the funeral pyre, where she stoically joined her husband in the flames. Sounds like it paid to not outlive your husband.

Next stop ... Umaid Bhawan Palace. We take a quick look around and decide to opt for the restaurant instead ... a feast of kebab's, nan, milkshake, and lemonade. Yum! You guessed it, we made a bathroom stop on the way out ... they even had hand lotion (I'm in heaven)!

Lastly we stop at the Mandore gardens. This seems to be the place for locals to stroll around after work. But most interesting is the monkeys ... hundreds of monkeys. Unlike most of the animals in India, these are well fed, even plump, and we see different groups bringing them potatoes, bananas, corn, peanuts, and some sort of black thing about the size of a chestnut. I wonder if these monkeys are worshipped or revered for some reason or another. In asking one of the groups, they said they feed them every night.

What a lovely day! A stop for some sweets at the sweet shop (everyone wanted their picture taken), some shopping, and home to bed.

Mirror, mirror on the wall

India is huge ... and traveling between cities takes a bit of planning, at the very least if you don't want to spend your life on a bus or train. Irene and I are heading to Jodhpur for a couple of days and then onto Jaisalmer, and it's a ways away.

With traveling in mind, Banta (our guest house host) arranges a driver, and after breakfast bids us adieu with marigold necklaces and yellow dots.

What incredibly varied terrain as we cross the country ... at one point hilly, another with broad expanses of sugar cane fields, yet another with desert plains. All this within maybe 8 hours.

Along the way, we ask the driver to stop at Kumbalgarh, an amazing fort perched at 1,100 m, with views as far as the eye can see.

A relaxing curry lunch at a little rest stop and then it's off to Ranakpur, one of India's largest and most important Jain temples. The carving is spectacular ... 1,444 pillars in all and no two are alike (except they all sure look kinda the same to me).

A couple more hours in the car and we arrive in the bustling, surprisingly metropolitan (mind you, I'm speaking Indian standards) city of Jodhpur. We make our way to the Blue House guest house ... I'm in awe! Gorgeous, spacious rooms, sparkling bathroom, real working shower with hot water, toilet paper, towels ... but wait there is no mirror. Who knew the things you have to ask for! Probably just as well that I can't see my same old clothes and windswept hair turning to straw.

And with that I do laundry and call it a night!

The white city

It's time to leave the hustle and bustle of Pushkar (whew, my ears are ringing) and head south towards Udaipur. I've heard the trains are not the best on this route, so another bus experience. The tent general manager drives me to the Pushkar bus station which has something around a gazillion local buses ... eenie, meenie, minie, moe. I hone in on the only other two westerners and we join forces. First, it's onto one bus, assured to Ajmer ... it fills up with locals, but then again, maybe not? After several minutes the driver decides not, and we all disembark, milling about to find the next bus. Now this is no deluxe bus ... it's the local RS8 bus. At least I get a seat next to the window, day pack under my feet, knees half-way to my chin, my huge backpack on my lap, and my face squished into the zipper. Cozy! But it's only a 30 minute bus ride to Ajmer and then off to finding the other bus station.

Whenever you ask how far, Indians always say either 2 or 3 km ... even if it's right around the block. Meaning, we thought it would not be far! A helpful fellow takes us under his wing, assures it's very close, and off we walk with our backpacks, dodging cars, cows and dogs ... 1 km ... 2 km ... yup, this time it really was 3 km. Drat!

But hey, it's good exercise ... right? Now it's time to find the right place to buy a ticket at the "deluxe" bus station. Don't read too much into the word deluxe. It really just means that you will get your own seat, and they won't fit 3 people in every 2 seats! And with an upcoming 7 hour bus ride to Udaipur ... call me snooty if you like, but I want my own seat.

Hanging around the bus station for several hours, enjoying their lovely toilet facilities (certainly not western style, they cost RS5, and the aromas are free) ... I meet Irene, a delightful woman from Guatemala, living in Canada ... and realize we're traveling in the same direction over the next couple of days. It's so nice to meet folks along the way, share stories (there are so many), watch each others luggage, and just talk and talk and talk! Finally the bus arrives, we buy our tickets, and we're off.

When I left Pushkar, I had hoped that the tent general manager would call the Dream House guest house to make reservations for me. So arriving there, I find that he hadn't called until late in the day ... so sorry, Madam, all full! Uh oh! I implore the Dream House to call for another, and he calls, and calls, and calls ... I'm not breathing ... whew, success with call #5. At this point anything that is not awful is looking pretty darned good.

Sudha Guest House ... a whopping RS150 per night for each room with private bath. Have you heard the saying, you get what you pay for? On the upside, it was clean-ish and the owner, Banta, couldn't do enough to be helpful.

We take a quick visit to a nearby internet cafe and then it's racing back to the guest house so as not to miss the 11 pm curfew when the front gate is locked!

Udaipur is thought to be Rajasthan's most romantic city, the white city, bordering Lake Pichola. When the monsoon is poor, the lake is mostly empty, but this year the lake is full and beautiful. It's surprisingly hilly and the houses are narrow and many stories tall, with super skinny and steep stairsteps. Climbing the stairs in any Indian building is not for the weak-willed ... there's often no railings, the steps can be as high as your knees or as short as a couple inches, sometimes there's no light, and I'm usually feeling (and hoping) my way up and down. Udaipur is not a very big city. The roads are narrow and cobbled, with the usual animal assortment meandering about.

There was so much we wanted to see and do in Udaipur, and after a good breakfast of a cheese omelete, banana lassi and milk tea ... our day begins!

Another city palace? You'd think that if I'd seen one Indian city palace, I'd seen them all. Not so! Each of them is so very unique, so very beautiful. Each of them has a story to tell about the majaraja. Ask me after I've seen many, many more and I might have a different story to tell, but for now, it's all good. This one is spectacular, well maintained, and we wander about oohing and aahing.

We visit the Jagdish Temple, very near the city palace. I don't understand all the why's and wherefore's, but in some temples you are allowed to take pictures, others not. You always have to take off your shoes. Some are more stringent than others about having your shoulders and legs covered ... although my Indian "uniform" takes care of all those particulars.

Lunch time! One of Udaipur's claim to fame is the Lake Palace Hotel of 007's Octopussy fame. We had hoped we could go over for lunch, or possibly tea, or cocktails. But I guess they're onto us because non-guests need reservations a day in advance. Oh well, we gaze across the water wistfully with the James Bond sound track playing in our heads. Instead, we wander over to the Amet Haveli for lunch ... view of the lake and delicious too!

By the way, Udaipur takes its 007 history very seriously. It's rare to find any hotel or restaurant not playing Octopussy at 7 pm every single night.

We wander along the water's edge, discovering that the women ended their fast today and are out at sunset with their daughters lighting what looked like little cupcakes and setting them afloat. There are candles, flowers, and bananas everywhere. It likes like it's part celebration, part remembrance. Wonder what it was all about?

Still so much more to the day, we continue wandering (getting a wee bit lost) until we arrive at Dharohar, Rajasthani traditional dances and puppet show. Dazzling costumes, music, dances. And the pot dance ... a woman wearing 10 clay pots (I'm not talking petite tea-cup-sized pots here). She danced around and around, walked on shards of glass, picked up a hankie on the floor with her mouth. And to think I can stumble walking across the room even without a book on my head!

What a wonderful day! Udaipur is a magical city ... Irene and I enjoy our last moments in the city in a rooftop restaurant overlooking the city.

Soaking up the Pushkar ambience

Leslie takes off to continue her great adventure and I wander about soaking up the local Pushkar ambience! This is truly a fair, a mela, like no other.

There's ferris wheels (now that looks truly frightening), merry-go-rounds, circus acts, food vendors of every sort, shopping that boggles the imagination, hordes of tourists, men, women, children, and animals everywhere. I find myself at the Baba Restaurant ... up on a rooftop terrace overlooking the Sadar Bazaar Road and the lake, watching the monkeys scampering over the rooftops. Quite the westerner and old hippie hang-out. A yummy lunch of tomato, mushroom and cheese pasta, mango lassi (blended yogurt drink), and Mirinda (orange soda).

Had I mentioned that Pushkar is a city with NO meat, fish, eggs or alcohol ... none, zip, nada (well, except our tents sell horridly expensive beer). I was a bit skeptical at first, but wow, do they know how to cook. Pushkar food is the best ever. My favorite is the meals they cook with a kind of soft cheese pressed to an ultra firm texture. At first I thought it was firm tofu, but it's cheese. So delicious! I've never seen anything like it in the states.

Yummy street vendor discovery ... peanut brittle. Not-so-good street vendor find ... hot roasted peanuts ... yuck! They were either boiled or still raw, not sure which, but decidly awful.

There's the final day camel pageant, or at least I think it's a pageant. There are judges checking the camel's feet, their gait, and inspecting their fur and teeth. The winners get ribbons and the press descends.

Finally, it's time to say goodbye to Pushkar ... and the Indians and their animals begin their long trek home.

Let the festivities begin

Camel trading complete, it's time for the Indians to worship, bathe and party!

Pushkar is built around a holy lake, where it is said that Brahma dropped a lotus flower. It's an important Hindu pilgrimage site and is only one of three of the world's Brahma temples.

We wanted to see the Brahma temple and the bathing ghats, so Leslie arranged a camel cart ride there and back. Don't ever use the words speed and camel carts in the same sentence. And for a bit of visualization, picture me trying to hoist myself onto this high rolling platform ... graceful, unh unh!

We rode next to Raja and his driver. Raja is a gorgeous 8 year old camel that his 25 year old driver got when he was just a pup. Or what is a young camel called? True affection his driver had for him. He painted Raja's head and face black for the Mela - his hands were covered in black stain. I heard that he pierced Raja's ears (three fancy earrings in each ear) the night after (I also heard Raja was pretty ticked off about all that to-do).

The Brahma temple is smaller than I expected, but filled with worshippers of all walks of life. Flower and rice offerings everywhere ... people watching at its best! After we collect our shoes and meander over to the ghats. On the way, we're passed by a proper parade, complete with bands, camel "floats", and lots of marigold throwing. The marigolds smell so good in the air.

Shoes off again, we walk down to one of the many bathing ghats. We're followed by a Pushkar "priest" which we know is a scam, but interesting nonetheless. He talks us through the bathing ritual, thankfully we only dip our fingertips in a bronze vessel filled with the green water. We make a wish , throw our marigolds and rice in the lake. The usual, he wants his rupees afterwards, so we give him a few (it was of course not enough) and we move on.

What better to do next, than watch the turban tying competition for foreigners and the moustache competition for all. Lots of people, lots of tourists and Leslie falls prey to the lots of pick-pockets. Without the slightest of anything, her Blackberry is GONE!

What an addition to the day that just will never make the list of things to do in India. The camel driver and his friend try their best to help out by bringing us around to the police and the event-announcer ... but it is really quite futile. Instead after lunch we head off to an internet cafe and phone so Leslie can cancel her accounts and change passwords. BLEAH!

Note to self ... what a vivid, real life reminder to watch my own stuff!

I think and hope (fingers crossed) my stuff is as safe as can be. I have a moneybelt under my underwear that has my passport, travelers checks, ATM card and extra credit cards. It NEVER comes off (well ok, I do take it off when I take a shower).

Outside my clothes I have a small fanny pack where I keep my day-to-day money and camera. It's got steel cable straps (to keep off the cutters) and locking zippers and snaps.

My day pack doesn't have much except my water bottle, journal and Lonely Planet guide (and a couple of Immodium pills and toilet paper - come on now, you didn't really think I could refrain from some toilet talk did you). Pickpockets might get into that, but they're sure not going to get much for their troubles!

Then there's my big pack which could be vulnerable. I've brought with me a steel cable mesh covering tht I can lock to myself or my belt ... and it seems to work quite well.

It's fair to say that pickpockets can happen anywhere, not just in India. But perhaps we're just a bit more aware of such things in our home surroundings.

After that bit of a bummer afternoon, we wander about, watch a Rajasthan song and dance performance around the campfire, chat with friends at dinner, watch an after dinner Rajasthan puppet show (they are the best puppeteers) ... at 11 pm it's time for bed. I'm exhausted!