Marty Klein in India

Hi Marty, I don;t know if you know me but we have meet a few times at AASECT annuals. I happened to read one of the listserve messages and it said you were in India. I'm here to! I've been traveling with my youngest daughter since Oct 23 and will return to Cal on the 29th of NOv. We are in PUshkar now and back to Delhi tomorrow night the 26th. I am hoping that you plan to go to the temples in Orissa. Can you take pictures? I had wanted to go there but just couldn't handle it. I would be willing to trade pics of Khajuraho with you if you took good ones! I would love to be able to see those temples, especially at Karnac. Have a great trip. See you next JUne. Blessings, Suzie Heumann Tantra.com travel email: suzie.heumann@gmail.com

hi, this is from a newspaper of chhattisgarh. your writing was interesting. have you put your pictures from this state on any web page? we would like to see them. sunil kumar editor daily chhattisgarh

interesting ,nice <a href="http://letsgo.co.in" target="&quot;_blank&quot;"> Goa India </a>

Dear Dr. Klein, Greetings from and Warm welcome to India. I'm Poosha, a sex counsellor from Andhra Prasesh, India, and an AASECT member. I read about your trip to India on the listserve. Hope you will enjoy your travel through India, the diversity of our culture and the unity and the harmony within it. I am sure you will enjoy the beauty of Khajuraho temples the Konark (orissa) with the exquisite erotic sculptures on them. Pl. let me know if I could be of some use to you. Best regards Poosha Darbha Sex counsellor Fellow of Council of Sex Education and Parenthood International 40 Indl. Park Samalkot 533 440

Marty, this is my Journal/diary fo India. It's long - you don't have to read it if you don't want to! Suzie I’m in the land of transformation (post-script – I was an ignorant slut when I wrote that line!) Hindu, Buddhist, Sikh, Islamic – It’s all a whirl yet if you look closely you can see the hierarchy. You can see who rules and who obeys. You can see the tension between cultures, religions, men and women, even cars and rickshaw drivers. Delhi is very dirty. The air is dirty, the streets are dirty, and the vibes are dirty. But for a Westerner it is wonderful that most everyone speaks English. You can joke with people. It is a godsend to be able to do that and everyone you do it with seems to have a good time with you. 10/26 So, we're in Varanasi and it is pretty amazing. Dawn and I walked the ghats this morning and watched bodies burn and went into the houses that are the 'hospices' for poor people to come and wait for death. The river is filthy. People are bathing in it, washing in it, drinking it, pouring it over their children and loved ones. It is amazing. The weather isn't too hot and is actually somewhat pleasant. The streets are crazy! You feel like you are taking your life in your hands (or someone else's actually) every time you get in a car, walk, take a rickshaw or just stand on the sidewalk if there is one. I've only been in India for three days and it feels like a lifetime. Dawn is a great guide and very resourceful. We are staying in an old home that is now a society for the preservation of Banares. There are students here studying different aspects of Hindu culture and architecture and history. They tend to stay for a while. There is a library and very helpful folks. The woman who runs the society lives part time in Italy and works for OXFAM. She was here for one day so we met and then she was off to Afghanistan for work. We’ve been asked to go with many of the guest here on a night boat out on the Ganges at 10pm tonight. I think there is some kind of festival that is happening because we saw set-ups at the big ghat just below us earlier today. But who knows because it seems as though things could be going on all the time like this. Outside our window are several large empty spaces that seem perfect for gardens. I don’t understand why people don’t have gardens. Is it the monkeys? Would they wreak havoc with the fruits and vegetables grown? It seems so odd to me. The fruits and veggies I see on the streets look beautiful – fresh, bright, luscious. Dawn says the fruit she’s had isn’t very flavorful, though. I’ll have to try a papaya myself soon. She is also eating tomatoes so I’ll get braver soon too. Many places that cater to Caucasians filter drinking water and Dawn says she drinks it and we are told it is better than bottled water. Five weeks is going to be a long time! Golden silk threads lay over the mother Ganges as the glorious sun rose through the shrouded mist and fog of the river. The human particles of existence that permeate the air colored him deep orange and crimson. He rose like a ball of fire to meet the new day as all of civilization seemed to rise with him. Groups of women, newly washed and cleansed by the mother herself, sat in circles singing to the collective ‘all’. Spontaneous voices rising softly to usher in the day – the sentiment – the life starting each day anew. The puja to a new day. I am reminded of those holy times when girlfriends burst into song as we hike, circle around the fire and at times when it is just in the collective “all”. The ghats are a bustle with morning activity. Prayer, bell ringing, washing of the body and spirit and soul, tourists, hawkers, babies in their mothers arms, sadhus performing puja, bird feeders, more tourists. The burning ghats glow all day and all night. It is only volunteers who assist the freeing of the soul with fire. They perform Dharma work in this way. Priests officiate and sons, father or uncles light the fire for their child or parent but it is the Dharma work that transforms death in a good way. They all say that death is the teacher, the learning, and the knowledge. Dawn points out an ancient couple washing each other tenderly. She is the only woman I see with her top off, beyond modesty, beyond. This is the holy city where you come to die if you are lucky enough. I can hear kirtan singing coming from somewhere. Last night we took a boat with some friends out on to the river late in the night. The mists mixed with the ashes from the burning gave an eerie pallor to the river. All was quiet – incredibly quiet. We float and talk softly. Someone bring s out a joint mixed with tobacco – I can’t smoke it and I’m glad. Tobacco should only be the medicine it was used as in traditional times. We light prayer bundles and gently circle them in the all-encompassing gesture of inclusion – calling in the whole world- and we send them off down the river. Seven of them – one for each of us. Seven charkas. Seven stupas. Seven people. Seven. The ghats form a demarcation. There is so much going on out on the streets yet none of it can be heard from the river. We are protected from worldly things. Silently we sit in the middle of the river as if in the middle of a huge bowl, the mist and ash form the deep sides and we are like a lotus flower floating in the center of the bowl anywhere and everywhere. We are on the lotus in the bowl on my living room table. Floating. We are everything and we are nothing. Our prayer candles are far down river now. They are all still lit and they are the only light we see. Next day: We did a bunch of stuff today. I visited at breakfast with an Italian man who is a pharmacist in a small village in Northeastern Italy. Dawn went out for a while by herself. While she was gone a Baba (holy man) came into the living room of the guest house (Kauytila Society) and sang and played music for a few of us. It was incredible. Very moving and fun. He was so present. He would look you deep in the eye while singing. He played two instruments at once while he sang. Apparently he comes from some other city every Saturday to the house and gives a little concert. I did a sweat your prayers dance during one of the pieces on the smooth floor of the courtyard. This evening we all went to a concert at a famous music school right in our area. The music was fantastic and a brother and sister danced as the second act to some fabulous tabla player’s music. The two where fantastic dancers and they did a selection of Krishna/Radha themed dances and some interpretive short pieces that really showed off their skills. They did a style of stamping/slapping their feet on the smooth concrete floor with huge bells on their ankles so that the sound was mesmerizingly rhythmic and sensational. It was a small intimate setting and very wonderful. The tabla player’s head at the back looked like a perfect Shiva Lingam stone, dark and smooth and perfectly shaped except for the line of fuzzy white hair mid way around the circumference. Dawn was sick today. She stayed in bed all day and threw up and we nursed her and I stayed in with her except for going out for dinner around the corner at the Baba Hotel run by a Japanese young woman and her Indian husband. Mangala helped me with her and it was very wonderful of her! Tomorrow we go to Bodhgaya for a long day. We have a car and driver. Bodhgaya – After a tiring 6 hour ride with bumps and heat we arrive in the beautiful town of Bodhgaya. The temple is beautiful with many different kinds of people here to pay respect, pray, and be in the energy of the Buddha. This is Buddhism’s holy of holy places. The Bodhi tree is a fifth generation tree (we have a baby of one of its babies in Hawai’i) and monks of all sorts had their eyes open for any fallen leaf from it. They were swept up barely before they hit the ground. Thai, Chinese, monks, Europeans, even Hindis – All pilgrims of the Buddha’s. Bodhgaya is in the poorest state of India. There are often bandits holding up buses and cars on the smaller streets in the state. We stayed on the highway, if you can call it that. Cars, trucks, buses, rickshaws, motorcycle rickshaws, motorcycles, bikes, walkers – every kind of vehicle you can possibly think of. We bought Mangala a sari as a gift. I bought two Pashmina shawls – big size, one white and one orange. We took the long road home and got back about midnight. We where exhausted but happy we went. Went to the ghats again and hung-out. Did laundry, bought the sitar for Tom, shopped and got Mangala the blouse for her new sari. I’m not feeling so well now. We go to Khajuraho today. I’m sick – diarrhea, bellyache and very bad headache. This lasts for three days. The temples are gorgeous! We are in a hotel ($25 US) right across from the Western group of temples. They are exquisite at dawn and at dusk glowing a golden hue as the sun rises and sets in the thick shroud of smoke and pollution that is ubiquitous in India. The town is so much cleaner than any of the other places we’ve been thus far, though Dawn says that Dharamsala was pretty clean. Khajuraho is relatively expensive. Everybody wants extra money for rides and artifacts and even clothing. This are is in a three-year drought. The lakes in town are all dry or almost all dry. We did see one with lounging Water Buffalo in it but it was just a glorified mud hole, for the most part. I miss the babas and sadhus that Varanasi has. You don’t see many in Khajuraho. I longed to see the temples candle-lit and alive with worshipers. My imagination tried to come up with the images but it would have been incredible if even just one temple were set up that way. The Hindus believe that if the major deity (statue) in a temple even so much as has a crack in it then the god or goddess has abandon the sculpture and the temple is abandon by the people. It is no longer alive the way it was. Hence, there is only one active temple in the Western group and I don’t think many more in the total of some twenty-one temples left standing. Since their construction in the years from 950 AD to 1025 AD they have been forgotten, torn down by the moguls, ravaged and even Gandhi wanted to tear down the remaining temples once upon a time. Khajuraho is a world heritage site and it deserves the distinction. They are amazing in their delicate and intricate detail yet the engineering that was required, let alone the carving expertise, rather boggles the mind. One of the wonderful things about the temples is that they have a mix of iconistic symbolism. Vishnu, Shiva, Laxmi, Surya ( the sun god), Hanuman, Ganesha and even Buddha are represented in and on the temples. Devas, Apsaras, demons and all manor of animals cover the exterior of the temples in processions and in relief. There are elephants, dragons, horses, tigers, bulls, monkeys, serpents and crocodile-like animals. Beautiful women adorn the sides and interiors. They are looking in mirrors as a metaphor. They are making love. They are dancing. They are in attendance to the gods and to others. They are everywhere! Full, voluptuous breasts and hips adorned with fine lines of fabrics and jewels. Serene smiles and half-cast eyes invite the seeker to a higher plane. One temple standing alone in the South had twenty different Maithuna positions depicted an its sides including ‘the crow’ which is our ‘69’ position. The Kama Sutra doesn’t really condone oral sex but the temples sure do! The guides here tell the tourists that the carvings remind the viewer to move their energy to a level beyond the physical but I’m not so sure of that. I think it is propaganda. Back in Delhi for a night before we go to Jodhpur for our desert experience. The great Thar Desert is on the boarder of Pakistan and India. They are at odds with each other and it has been this way for a long time. India has Nuclear and Pakistan wants it and is developing it. They are also reported to be harboring Al Queda and Osama Bin Laden. Michael and Tom are worried a bit. We haven’t seen a newspaper for a few days. They things are pretty bad from the US news standpoint. Back to Jodhpur. Really dirty air in the evenings and at night but the mornings are the best we’ve seen. Much clearer and cooler here as the season turns. It’s quieter here though the town isn’t very touristy at all. We aren’t seeing many Westerners, no Americans (except we discover, the bus load of American college students from Illinois in our very hotel!) and very few Europeans. We bought 6 large, round Rajisthani pillow/seats (hassocks) last night. This is one of the things we wanted to buy. They’re beautiful and will add extra setting at home for me and Dawn will have some easy to transport furniture for her home. Wherever it may be. I bought a skirt too. The day before we had wandered through the bazaars and shops with little of the recognition we had, say, in Varanasi. This isn’t really a touristy place, after all. Dawn wants to buy spices but we will wait until we get to Jaisalmer I think. All the restaurants in town looked very seedy so we went to the upscale looking place called ‘On the Rocks’. It was pretty strange; a big place with tables all over the place outside. The food was great and we each had two cocktails of rum and soda pop. Wow! Drinking really affects my as I haven’t been doing much of it lately. I stood up after two and a very full dinner and had to steady myself. Our hotel is a small palace way outside of town. Wonderfully quiet but quite a ride into town if you want to go there. We traveled and toured the fort here yesterday. It was a highlight for me. My imagination went wild with the speculation of what court life might have been for the women. Very confined I think and maybe full of intrigue on occasion. They could only peek from small windows to the courtyards below where, I’m sure, the action happened. Included in the price of admission was a very good audio tour so we got lots of facts and I’m sure some speculation too. I took my small binoculars because I knew that the view would be great and two Indian women (they spoke NO English) couldn’t keep their hands off of them once I lent them the first time! They seemed thrilled with them and after thanked me. It was interesting, though, that it seemed to me as though they felt entitled to them, some how. We went back up for dinner later that night. The view was magnificent. They call this the Blue City because many homes and buildings are painted blue to keep the heat from frying people. It’s a cooler color and I’m sure it reminds people of the sea. This is our last day here and we are hanging out in our room. Called home this morning and talked to Michael and Dawn talked to Tom. We tried several times to call Niki but no answer. We hear she has anew love and is a bit head-over-heels. A moneychanger is coming as I’m out of money and we are traveling tonight on an all night train to Jaisalmer so I’ll need some. We are then going on an afternoon ‘safari’ for 3.5 hours to view native villages, craftsmen, and the countryside were we are told we will see dear and such. We are going by hired jeep. The hotel has granted us our room so we can shower when we get back. Then we will have dinner here and take a taxi to town for the train at 11 pm. This will be my first train experience in India. We arrive in Jaisalmer at 5:30 am the next morning. We already have a pick up at the train station by a cousin of one of our hotel men in Jodhpur who befriended us right away. When he heard we were going to Jaisalmer he said he was from there and that his family is all there. He is sad that he can’t be with them for Diwali and he insisted that he make connections for us with his family. I don’t know what this will mean except that I am sure it means we will have to look at many shops and probably will buy something from any number of family members. We shall see. No Internet for several days now. I’m interested in the Pakistan stuff and would love to know what our Democratic presidential hopefuls are saying about it. I’ve enjoyed seeing the news from a different countries perspective while here. Though Americans are well liked we aren’t the predominant travelers here. People in the bigger cities will talk politics with you. There are a lot of articles about India’s nuclear issues with the US and the pressure we are putting on them to make fast decisions. They also want to know why we are so ‘in-bed’ with Pakistan. It’s complicated, I say, but to tell you the truth it’s probably because we are selling arms to anybody and everybody who’ll buy. It all comes down to money. But it seems to all come down to money here, too. It is the Kaliyuga for sure! Tomorrow is the 8th of November 2007. I still have three weeks to go!! It seems amazing. The days are long and we are getting very full night sleeps so it must all come down to being in such a different place with such different experiences. Our jeep safari headed into the desert and made the first stop at a large section of the meandering, smallish river that was near our hotel too. At this watering hole, and inside a very extensive wild life refuge, was a flock of nomadic sheep a hundred strong. I noticed two babies that had JUST been born and the turbaned herder brought the baby to me to hold. It was the first time since I had had my own sheep that I had held a new born. Then we turned our attention to four deer up the river. These have horns as long as their bodies that curl in a spire from the head. The deer are a dusky brown with white under-bellies and the horns are black. We went a bit further on the road and the jeep turned into the desert and we found a herd of these of about 40 individuals with babies, females and a few males (with really long horns) on the outskirts of the herd. The jeep trip was interesting, though, as usual, we were ushered into shopping opportunities. We went through villages with many children and women working very hard. The men seem to sit and talk in groups and the women are always working. These were crafts people and it was illuminating the variety of ways that people invent ‘machines’ for their work. The potter, who turns out incredible stuff like huge perfectly round water holding pots, has a wheel that weights 100 kilos. He starts it by using a big long stick that he gets going with both hands and arms in an incredible fast motion – around and around, faster and faster. He gets enough motion going with the combined weight of the wheel to make maybe five pots of varying sizes and complexity. Fascinating to watch. The clay is natural in all of the small pond and lake bottoms we saw. Clay-y soil for sure. The fabric printer’s techniques were also worth watching. You can see the origin of Bali and Indonesia’s craftsman in these ancient Indian ones. Vegetable dies, mud, cooking oil and water as protection for the underneath color before a new one is applied and hand cut wooden stamps with tribal symbols, animals and flower combinations. Then on to the weavers of Durries. We bought one. The first thing I need to do is get a big bag for our ‘goods’ in Jaisalmer. In Jaisalmer now. We arrive from an all night train – I didn’t sleep but the stars were the first I’d seen this whole trip and they were brilliant. Orion’s Belt, Cassiopeia and diamonds in the sky all around. This is how I imagine the sky will look on our camel trip into the desert. We arrive at 6 am and find our way to our hotel. This is the first place we booked for this whole trip and Michael and Adele found it. When we arrive I see that their names are still on the registry. I figure that with everything that has been going on with Frances they forgot to cancel. We talk the manager into letting us have the room since it’s been long paid for and there is no possibility of a refund. They acquiesce and we move in only later to find an email from Adele saying there is a surprise for us waiting in Jaisalmer. They have not cancelled on purpose. For four nights Dawn and I have separate rooms in the lap of luxury! The privacy is somehow odd, though, after sleeping together for so long now. We wander through the narrow streets by day, looking at thousands, if not tens of thousands of saris, wall hangings, all manner of cooking wear, household needs, food, fruit, drinks, more fabric and people. The people watching is really good but mostly it’s the women you want to look at. Their saris are all, without fail, bright, colorful, and exotic and their manner is demure. They mostly will say namaste or hello to us, which always feels good. The men are all outwardly STARING at Dawn all the time. The girl is so tired of it she gets angry sometimes after we get back to our hotels room. We shop. We tour and look around. We eat, especially good Italian food now. It is a welcomed change. A good breakfast is almost always included at every hotel we’ve stayed in. It’s the night of Diwali and we have to get dressed up in our new clothes we had made! Dawn has designed several tops and had them made and I had a sawha kameese made in Delhi that is very fancy. There is a party, put on by our hotel, for all the guests on the rooftop. The sky will be filled with fireworks all night and there will be candles and wine and whisky and thali (an Indian sample plate sort of with dhal, chapatti, vegetable curries, rice, chutneys and anything else they decide to put with it). We invite two European women to sit with us and they are great conversationalists. They are good friends, have lived all over the world, have diplomat and banking husbands and were very cosmopolitan. There world perspectives, while different from each other, where insightful and knowledgeable. I enjoyed talking with them. The wine is pretty bad here but they brought a good bottle! Next day: We go, as arranged, out to a small village about 20 klms toward the Pakistani boarder. It is the home of our friend we met at our Jodhpur hotel – an employee there. He befriended us and got Diwali off so he took the bus from there to be with his family. He sees them once every six months. He supports his father, mother, wife, two small children, one of his brother’s wives and several more, younger brothers, it seems. He sent a tuktuk for us and we brought a big box of sweets from one of the shops in town. Indian’s LOVE very sweet things. Lots of sugar. We had a very interesting time. He sent someone to buy a bottle of Indian moonshine whisky and a bottle of coke. It’s made from a tree called ‘Baubu’ or Baubel’ or something like that. Only four of his houseful of guests drank. He hid the bottle under the table we were sitting around as people were coming and going and it isn’t common for Hindus to drink. The whole scene was pretty interesting. He was the talk of the town I think. Dawn spent most of her time in the very small, smoky kitchen with the two young wives. They barely spook any English but they managed to let her know that they wanted her to stay for quite awhile. They wanted to know about makeup, nail polish, her life – all kinds of things. She is dying to have a deep conversation with a small group of women here. They seem so repressed and under the thumbs of their mother in laws here, especially the village women. It’s hard to find a situation in which to talk comfortably and frankly. We leave around 1 pm. As we are driving back we come upon a huge troop of camels. They are all over the road going somewhere – mostly females with swollen udders and babies – maybe 60 or 70 of them. Dawn got some pictures. We get dropped off at a very deluxe hotel with a pool near town and relax and swim and read for the rest of the day! Our pool days have been a great break, when we can get them. At dinner this night we have a good conversation with the owner of the restaurant – Italian with an Indian owner – about the state of the world, India and philosophy. An open day today. We go on our camel safari tomorrow morning early. Should be a trip! Our hotel owner will drive out every evening with fresh food and bedding and stay? I don’t’ quiet get it since he says we will be going pretty far. We shall see. I am not happy the first day of the camel trek. I’m sick from something I ate last night – too rich. I also couldn’t tolerate the heat of the day in the desert. I didn’t eat for another two full days and even after that I only ate fruit mostly and cucumber salad. We had requested a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables so we had a fairly good supply. The camel drivers laughed at us the first day but saw that we really wanted it by the time we finished all of it. It was a very hard first day for me. I slept fairly well though the ground was hard on my hips. The stars are drop dead gorgeous! We are using the same blankets that pad the camels during the day! By the next day I am over it and don’t give it another thought. Interestingly, the camels don’t smell at all, except their farts if you’re behind them while on the trail. I don’t seem to be able to get my camel to trot! I am the lead too. Our main driver has to swat him to get him going and then he slows down and it happens all over again. I’ve been trying to copy the sounds the drivers make and the attitude and the subtle, guttural nuances but I’m no good at it – yet. It is taking me too much energy with the way I feel to keep kicking, and clicking and swatting and get-y-upping the way I feel. Not better yet. I do like to trot though so I’ll keeping working at tit. I have found that the camel responds to the lightest touch sometimes though. Very light. It’s almost like I only need to ‘think’ about a slight turn or subtle shift, say away from a prickery bush, and it happens. The camel is naturally drawn to the prickles because it likes to scratch so you have to keep them away but the response level is good, as long as the camel isn’t hungry. On the third day we have run out of food until the evening when the driver can buy some from a farmer friend of his and my camel isn’t happy. For the first time I am in the rear instead of the lead. The birds are many and varied though most are small. I keep thinking that I want mom here to tell me what they are. There are wild peacocks though in many places – minus their tail feathers – always. If they are wild where are their tail feathers? We never find out. There are eagles of a variety I can’t wail to study when I get home, and a few vultures, though you would think there would be more of these in this country where life is pretty tenuous. We see cow and sheep carcasses here there throughout the farm areas of the desert. Grouse, doves, finches, really small ground birds and more. Each seems to have their time of day with early morning cries, twitters and calls during the mid day and night bird sounds too, though these are not owls. Some are coming quite close staying on bushes, as we pass and many seem to be paired or mating also. There’s a lot of dancing going on! Dawn laughs a lot at the camels when we’re in camp. Their front legs are hobbled so they walk slowly but when one of the drivers gets them going they hop! It’s hilarious. Dawn thinks they look prehistoric or Jurassic. They’re actually very fun to watch. They’re weird and elegant at the same time. Getting up and down from them is quite a dance, you have to remember which way to lean – way back while they raise their rears and lift their heads. I insisted on stirrups and I’m glad I did, though it didn’t help much by the end of four days. Nothing did. I hurt and what’s more I actually had (still have) sort of swollen sits bones. I have been very surprised that is isn’t worse. The second morning a little, silent girl came into our camp on the first dunes early in the morning. There are farming communities in many of the places and it is becoming a problem for the camel trekkers because they increasingly have nowhere to cross the fields. The desert is being farmed in as many places as people can possibly eek out an existence. So, she’s begging. I give her one of the necklaces that Michael gave me before I left to give away. I think he got them in the Southwest – they are composite turquoise and plastic silver I think because they have never lost their shine. I can tell she loves it though she only gives the smallest of smiles – I think she is shocked, quite frankly. We give her toast with jam, a hard-boiled egg and two pens and she wanders away eventually and goes over the dune to somewhere. The children all look much younger than they are. I read yesterday, in the newspaper, that 48% of children are stunted, 38% are under weight and in Delhi 24% are obese. You definitely notice that in some towns and all villages, people are very thin and short, in general. When you tour the palaces and forts of old you have to duck your head very low to get through doorways. It is in the land, the poor land I think that makes the population smaller and more compact. There are exceptions, though. I am much better the second day. Wow, I get it now. It seems cooler but I think it is just me. Not eating much though. It just doesn’t appeal to me. I’m not hungry, just very thirsty. I’ve been drinking about three liters of water a day. Every day we have someone new coming to visit at lunch and dinnertime. It’s usually one or two of the other drivers. Some of them our great guy feeds too. Some of them speak English a little and some don’t .We always have fun regardless. Sometimes it’s a farmer or a herdsman. We laugh a lot. We are having a great time! I don’t even think about a shower until we are on our last day and we are almost back. Then it feels like I can’t wait! We had many adventures on the trail and learned a bit about the problems of growth and conflict with the farmers and trekkers, though mostly everyone gets along. There are Muslim villages next to Hindu villages and different outfits the women wear and all get along very well. There is respect and helping hands everywhere we looked. On our last day we stopped at a few villages that were Muslim and the men where out in the wilds with the flocks (the women tend the gardens often). If the men are around the women hide in the kitchens and you never see them. If the men are away the women are amazingly hilarious and grabby and they want to trade clothing and jewelry and anything you’ve got! We had a lot of fun with a couple of villages this day. Everyone was laughing and joking at each other’s expense. Very wonderful and easy and we couldn’t believe the contrast. Dawn has been longing to speak to a group of women candidly but we haven’t found the group yet. I tell her they probably practice clitoral cutting and maybe infibulation. She is surprised. We have realized, however, that much to our horror, there is NEVER more than one girl in a family. She is often one of the older children among an average of five or six. All the rest are boys. This is consistent everywhere we go. The family might be Muslim or Hindu but it is always the same. When I tell people I have three daughters and no sons they kind of gasp. I sometimes quickly say but I have two grandsons to make up for it. So. My dear women friends, this means that you would be forced to kill your daughters in a society like this one. They get born, only to be left, given away to be left or ignored and left. Someone takes them away. You know what has happened and you know you are a girl and you know that this one doesn’t get to live. You LIVE with it. How many pregnancies do you ACTUALLY have to go through to have one girl and four or five sons? This is what is required of you. Silently required of you. Back in ‘civilization’ we shower, eat Italian and go to bed to get up at 5 am to drive all day to Udaipur. Turns out the drive is long, but great, especially the last three hours. We are in hill country and it’s beautiful. The countryside is much more lush with terraced fields, fruit trees, sugarcane, vegetables that are big a beautiful, Cherimoya growing wild and a country road winding it’s way through tiny villages that we want to stop and stay in. We are on our way to the lake city of Udaipur. The city is beautiful and we are in a room that has one of the best views of any in the city. We are on the edge of the lake that the town surrounds and we have vies of all the big forts, castles and summer palaces. It is exquisite!!!! Well worth the price of $90 US. Restaurants are on the rooftops for incredible views of the city and the lakes and the royal palaces of old. The maharajas (there is a current one) built palace upon palace here at eh edge of a man made lake built in the 1600s. We shopped again today! One the way to anywhere you shop! We visited the fort/palaces and museums and shops! We bought some silver jewelry and Dawn had her nose re-pierced and had a small gold lotus put in. It really hurt. She was brave as the man stuck a pair of pliers up her hose to pull the end through. Tears where streaming down her checks by the time we were through but she was happy minutes later. We bought a bunch of silver bangles and I bought a necklace and amulet in silver. We can’t stop shopping. It’s hard to get away from. Everyone is hawking something. Cocktails on our balcony of our incredible room with THREE window seats complete with cushions and extra cushions and glass and 180 degree views of the lake directly below us. It is heaven. I have taken a very hot bath and it is time form dinner on the rooftop of a hotel near here. We hear that they have live music and very good food. We go to yoga in the morning. We had a great dinner last night at a rooftop restaurant near our hotel. Today we got up early and went to a kind of funky yoga class. I’m glad we went, though. We do nothing much except hang-out and write in our beautiful room this day. We’ll go out and do what ever we decide to do late in the day when the weather is cooler. The nights and mornings are getting cooler now. We go to Ranthambore National Park to see tigers tomorrow night by the night train. NEXT Oh, what a train system India has. This night train went way better than the first one mostly because we had blankets and our pillows with us and room to move around. The only problem is we didn’t know what time of the night the train stopped at OUR stop, which was a small, sort of obscure one. We had been told 2:30 am, 5:30 and 6:30 am. We had even bought an alarm clock to be ready but… I must have awoke maybe 7 times until I finally got off of the train at one of its night stops, ran into the small little train station room and tried to speak to two night watchmen who spoke no English. We finally figured out that it was 2 ½ hours to our stop. I ran back to the train just as it started to move. Then I slept for that 2 ½ hours. The next day we sleep and go into the tiger park on a jeep with 4 other people, a driver and a guide. It is a beautiful sanctuary. We see many birds including two types of owls, big green parrots, eagles, and many other birds I’ve never seen. We see spotted dear and a deer called a Sambar (something like that) in addition to many black-faced monkeys. No tigers though, in the section of the sanctuary we are in. The next day we go into the park in the morning on a bigger transport jeep. We go into a different part of the park this morning. It’s cold as we drive the four-wheel drive, steep canyon towards the hidden grassy valley that is section 4. Almost immediately the guide, who isn’t very observing, points out tracks from a female tiger from several hours earlier that morning. We see her tracks several more times within minutes of these but they are always walking the opposite way of our journey. This day we see three kinds of dear; the two we saw the day before plus one more light-colored kind that are big like the Sambars. We come to a small lake that I recognize from some of the tiger pictures I have seen at our hotel. We hang out there for quite awhile but no tigers. There are many beautiful and different water birds on the lake however. One particular type of large duck is called the Brahma Duck. It has a golden/buff head and chest and darker wings and is quite large. There is a pair of them. Many other water birds line sections of the shore and there is a pair of eagles in a leafless tree across the other side of the lake, too. The ride back ends with more deer and a couple of crocodiles but no tigers. It’s been really wonderful to be in nature for long periods of time despite the lack of tigers. We had been asking our hotels managers about getting to Pushkar because we knew it was going to be difficult from Ranthambore. We had looked into cars, trains, and buses but hadn’t found anything that was working or not fully booked by others so after our morning excursion we went back to the front desk and asked about booking a bus later that day. We were told to go to the train station and get a general setting ticket (41 Rps= $1.) and found out that the train left at 3 so we could stay at the hotel and swim until then. Dawn goes out to the pool and one of the other few guests says that a small bus of people had just left for Pushkar and they had been asking if any body else had wanted to go. They needed more passengers. We couldn’t believe it! I got mad at our hotel manager – it was really stupid of him because he knew the bus was looking for more people. Many eople are more like followers here than innovators. People often don’t seem like they can put two and two together. It gets frustrating. So begins a journey that could have been right out of hell but we are intrepid travelers! We go ahead and get a GN or general setting ticket. We get on board. The train leaves a half hour late. It’s packed on board and there are men who won’t budge from taking whole sets to lie down. Men in India can be absolute ass-holes. It’s true. So someone makes room for Dawn and I to sit up on the top wrung of the train where the baggage usually goes. We put our big bags up along the side luggage areas and hope it doesn’t crash on someone after a fast stop and we climb up, squished but happy to have a seat. We ride like that for about 2 ½ hours. Then we get to the next station where we have to negotiate the trains all over again. It’s now after six pm. I stay with the bags and Dawn goes the long distance (We’re now in the capital of Rajasthan, Japer, and the station is huge) to investigate tickets for the next leg. All the good seats are taken. We get GN tickets again and when the train arrives it is packed. There is no room and people are shoving and pushing and everyone is out for himself. It is crazy and sad and maddening but in the end we all fit somehow. Dawn is squeezed up on top again and literally has to strap our bags to the back of the chain-link grid behind her to keep them from falling on the huddled mass below. I end up sitting in the isle on one of our big bags with a young man I offer to share it with who is on a national hockey team and in college. He is traveling home with some of his team mates and they speak very little English but we end up having a great time talking and their English got a whole lot better by the end of this grueling but memorable train trip. The isles were so packed that no one could move and we all had to stand up and climb the seats to let people go by for the bathroom. It was insane. I had old ladies falling asleep on me on both sides as I was trying to hold them up from falling off of their edges on the seats as they nodded off. After we got to the station we had to negotiate for a taxi over a mountain called cobra Snake and because of the Pushkar camel festival going on we had to further find the right kind of taxi that could take us to our hotel as the streets in town are blocked off for the festival. Went to bed after a cold shower in a way over priced room at around 1:00 in the morning and didn’t do too much our first day but shop and rest! That was a very long day. We had an inkling that the time to come to Pushkar is the week before, or at least the part of the two week camel fair that is right in the middle. As our time got closer to being in Pushkar the people we talked to who had already been here said that more than half the serious traders of camels, cattle and horses are gone after the first week. The nomadic, tribal people are gone by the time we are going to arrive. That seems very apparent by the time we walk the small city and traverse the mela grounds. It is fairly deserted and by the looks of the trash and obvious tent and camp indentations, we have missed most of the ‘real action’. What is left, however, are many Arabian horses. They are perfect in stature, body proportion and bearing. They are, well, exquisite. There are many white ones, pure white, and many that also appear albino. Their eyes are pink and tender looking and they are all more beautifully sheltered by painted canvas tarps and wall hangings – better than most people, in fact. All seem to be mares, possibly there to be bred by the studs, or stud services more likely, that must be here also. We did in fact see a doctor looking kind of guy, with horses lined up to see him, at a side tent. I wondered if this was maybe the official inseminator. We didn’t stick around to see. The report is that not only are horses sold and bred, prize cattle shown and strutted, camels bought and sold but that tribal folk and others come here to look for suitable marriage matches for their children. It is one big breeding ground. This time of year, Kirtika, the eighth lunar month in the Hindu calendar, and also a full moon, marks another big celebration/festival in Pushkar. The waters of the lake are holy and blessed and particularly strong on this moon at this month so many, many pilgrims come to this small city to bath and wash in the holy waters of the lake, which the city is centered around. They bath at sunrise, float candles out on the lake and pray. We got up this morning, dressed as warmly as we could and went out to see the spectacle. We stood atop a building on the lake and watched for several hours as people came and went. Fathers encouraged small sons into the water and mothers help their daughters. Husbands hold the hands of their wives and splash them playfully to get them going. It is could. This takes a great push of faith but it is noticeable, once a person is in the water, that they stay and pray and fully embody the experience. We see exactly three young men actually swim. Almost everyone seems to have a fear of the water. We have noticed this in other places, too. Very few people know how to swim unless they live near the coast, I suppose. This small lake is full and in the very middle of the city with ghats all around. Small hotels, homes, and many temples complete the whole circumference. There are temples to Brahma, Shiva, Hanumann, and Ganasha. Unlike Benares (Varanasi) it is strictly prohibited to take photographs of the lake or people bathing in it. Though there are the one saddus and a few others who don’t seem attached to others, the majority of people here are with fairly big groups. They have come here in extended family groups. They travel together on the streets staying close together, mothers holding their daughter’s hands and fathers with their sons or daughters. We see more families here with more than one daughter. It is encouraging for me. More ‘normal’ for my world view. There are far more beggars here than I have seen before. And there are many severly crippled people. It is hard to ‘steal’ oneself to it. They line the streets in certain areas, at crossroads mostly. It is hard to deny them money but it is so obvious that if you start you will be inundated. And we walk past these people multiple times a day. So not only do you have to consider them each time you pass you have to consider yourself for not knowing how to help or if help is the answer, even. Most people can eek out a living on the land so begging seems to be a choice to me. And, a lucrative one it seems. Several times in one day I hear a woman, who has no legs and rides a small, ground level kind of cart, pour here change into another container so that the one she is begging with is empty. She must do it a lot if I have heard her twice in a day. Life is indeed a game. And, still, the crippled are really crippled. One man has no arms at the shoulders. Another man is so deformed in his back, hips, legs and arms that he drags his body along the ground with his one arm. He does not have a cart or any pads on his legs, knees or arms like I see some others have. He isn’t that old. I wonder what his life story is. In this culture, that thinks nothing of simply letting an extra baby girl starve to death, why is this man alive? How did he survive? He must have been a burden. Did he have a loving mother once and was he her only son? Is that why he is alive? The children that beg are easier for me to brush off. It is tough love I’m giving them because there is so much more they could be doing. But their parents use them and they are formidable already. They are persistent, especially the little girls, curiously enough. Girls are usually so passive but not beggar girls. They are tenacious, dragging their smaller brothers with them and encouraging them to press on. This is indeed a land, a culture, a people who shouldn’t be pegged just one way. Paradox persists here. Young men can seem crass yet friendly and even helpful given the right circumstance. You wonder about how devote the men really are. You see some of them practicing yet others, maybe the same men I think are good and devout, grab your breasts as you pass by in heavy crowds. It is so insulting. The first time it happened to me it was a young man and I turned around and grabbed him and man-handled him a bit. He got angry and then left. I wished I had done the same thing to the grown man who grabbed me early this morning as we walked to the bathing ritual. He missed my breast as his hand caught my underwire on my bra. I had my arms crossed, as I was cold, so he didn’t have much chance anyway but… it’s weird none-the-less. And, he knew exactly what he was doing. This is the last day of the camel mela. We have missed the camel races and the horse races, too. I would have loved to see the camels run. Our guide on our camel safari told us they are quite fast. We only trotted a bit on safari so to see them run would have been great. I have seen drawings of them and their legs appear to do interesting combinations when running. I like the black camels the best. They seem to be a bit smaller bred and they are so beautiful – very exotic. They shave patterns in their hair, in this area of Rajasthan, and then sometimes paint the areas they have left longer. These are geometric designs, which are probably tribal markings, over many places on the camel’s body, neck and head. Then on go the bright and colorful fabrics, dangling balls and blankets with bells attached. They are simply beautiful. There aren’t any rickshaws allowed in Pushkar so the camel is the mode of transportation. Drivers pull carts behind the camel to move all kinds of goods including humans. There are decorated ones with little canopies over hem reminding one of the maharaja’s carriages you see in the museums here.

interesting ,nice