Rajasthan and beyond

Shannon and I toured Delhi and the state of Rajasthan, which was beautiful at times, downright dirty at other times - but potently India throughout. Here are some pics/relics of our journey...


There she is, the Taj, one of the seven modern wonders of the world: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Wonders_of_the_World (in case you're curious, we were.) The Taj was built for love by Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan in remembrance of his wife who died giving birth to their 14 child... I must say very stunning despite of all the hype.

pretty lady

carved marble roses of the Taj


a down moment, when the Taj didn't light up for the full moon like the LP promised us it would (and planned our Agra trip around)... very sad.

A Palace in Jaipur and my inspiration for my next bedroom... Painted lady Victorian meets Rajput Royalty meets Colonial stenciling... I like it. No doubt, I am my mother's child.

overlooking Jaipur from the painted palace


women washing on the steps of an Udaipur pavillion


Jodhpur is the blue city of Rajasthan and home to one of the largest forts where loyalty and sovereignty held steadfast as the primary governing principles. We heard stories of kings defending their small kingdoms to the death, choosing mass suicide over forfeit and wives burning themselves on the funeral pyres of their husbands. It's the stuff of the movies, timelessly dramatic to a fault and almost eery to tour the remains.

The royal swing of the Jodhpur palace, in which the king could receive private audiences. This simple room surpassed the bejeweled halls as my favorite, although i must say those Rajputs knew how to bedazzle. 55 liberty, what do you think? convert the cabinet into a "hall for private audiences" with some plush cushion swings?

back to our roots in Udaipur for a gorgeous desert ride... of course I felt the need to tell them I was an "intermediate" rider and this fiesty guy tried to gallop away every chance he got.

Udaipur desert


Shannon, fully garbed by the (overly) enthusiastic shop owner and looking astonishingly natural in a saree


The Bahai temple, which embraces all religions and delivers services in many languages from various faiths, is designed to appear like a lotus flower unfolding.



The India Gate in Delhi- an attempt at turning bad photo light into artsy intention... maybe?

Animal antics anecs...

Monkey Love, Charging of the Bull, King Cobra threats…

I have now had several animal anecdotes that I believe are worth sharing…

In Jaipur, which is the capital of Rajasthan and well greased into the tourist track, our rickshaw driver recommended we scout out the “Monkey temple.” He offered, as I now know is standard routine in Rajasthan, to take us for “whatever you want to pay Madame. If you are happy, you pay me, if not then nothing.” I’ve become very skeptical during my time here, and therefore approached this suggestion with caution. However, in the end we decided to hit up the monkey temple at sunset, however we refrained from purchasing the token tourist peanuts for the “feed the monkey photo op.” We needed to maintain some dignity.

The monkey temple was, true to its name, adorned with literally hundreds of monkeys scattered throughout its grounds, and also, pleasantly, devoid of tourists. Near the entrance a pair of monkeys sat grooming each other, testifying on behalf of the fabled “nit-picking in the name of love” ritual. The temple itself was silently stirring, as the shrines were lit up against dusk’s blue filter and the ceiling opened to the sky displaying a tapestry of rock and mountain.

Monkey love.

Monkey temple.

This was our first encounter. Benign, amusing, even a tiny bit spiritual.

Day two in Rajasthan, we visited the Amber fort. Rajasthan is teeming with forts and palaces as it was home to the Rajput warriors, and the Amber fort is among its most impressive. As Shannon and I explored the fort, we stumbled upon many concrete passages connecting different rooms and balconies. In one of these passages, Shannon stopped short as she saw a monkey sitting at the top of the stairs with its back to us, seemingly taking in the view. She attempted to get its attention, and was surprised – and a little frightened - when it “made a face” at her. I hadn’t seen the face so I cavalierly went in for the photo – however, the monkey was clearly annoyed that we hadn’t gotten the message the first time. As I called out something like “Hey there monkey,” the little guy turned, bared its teeth while making a sound somewhere between a hiss and a cackle, and lunged toward us. Yep, we screamed like girls and ran, causing a scene and falling into the hard-to-shed role of “stupid American girls.”

This photo was taken just moments after the monkey attack.

From that point on, Shannon developed a fear of monkeys comparable to my fear of cows. Yep, that’s right… I have a fear of cows. One ridiculously hot afternoon in Vellore I was walking down the bustling bazaar of “Gandhi Rd” and I spotted a horned cow (I think that makes it a bull, yes?) luxuriously strolling down the road sans owner or cart. I thought, (again we see a tragic flaw emerging here) “That’d be a nice photo.” As I picked up the pace to pass the cow and aim my camera in its direction, the cow put his head down, broke into a trot, and head butted me! Two guys who witnessed the incident ran over and threw their arms out to “siphon me off” (old school reference here, points if anyone can name it) and protect me. Interestingly I was carrying a bright red plastic bag… perhaps testifying on behalf of the fabled bulls charging the color red adage. Regardless, since then I give cows and bulls a huge circumference as I make my way past them.

One more animal anecdote. So, my research focuses on toxicology and snake bites - ironic because as long as I can remember, I’ve had a severe snake phobia. I remember keeping my distance when the neighborhood kids went out to catch garden snakes. Honestly, I think I usually ran inside. Through my research I’ve been working on making amends with the reptiles, however, it’s a bit hard to do because I’m finding a 4-5% mortality rate. So I don’t think we’re going to be good friends anytime soon.

Also at Jaipur’s Amber fort we spotted this snake charmer who had drawn quite a crowd serenading a cobra and coaxing him out of his woven basket. Later on, in Agra when our driver had pulled over for a smoking break, a man approached the car, rapped on the window and asked us if we wanted to see his “King Cobra.” This can be disturbing in several ways, however, the most alarming possibility to us was that he really was nestling a four foot snake under his jacket. And to add to our panic the driver had left the driver side window rolled down. Luckily we were emphatically firm enough that we did NOT want anything to do with his cobra that he wandered away to the next car.

Truly, it's a jungle over here...

Himalayas!

The Himalayas were bar-none gorgeous. Shannon and I met Aparna, Shoba and Meena for a girls' week of trekking, camping and serious girl talk. The family style company we trekked with took exceedingly good care of us, providing us with patient (though stoic) guides, delicious traditional Himalayan cuisine and uncompromisingly scheduled Chai breaks. The country's predilection for scheduled caffeine boluses is something I fully intend to adopt and promote in States :) Here''s just a few of my hundreds (literally 250...) of pics to get a flavor...


On our dizzying journey to the Orchard hut we stopped to document our first snow siting. We're wearing fleece! It was cold and I was happy about it! Insanity.

We arrived Tuesday afternoon at the Orchard Hut after an overnight train from Delhi, a long, winding and nausea-promoting car ride and a thirty minute hike up the mountainside. Sir Prakash and his family greeted us warmly with hugs, a welcoming ceremony, a prayer and Chai (always with the Chai). The next morning we embarked for the trekking hut, a 10 km 1000 meter journey that took us close to five hours as we were pack-laden. The cozy trekking hut served as our base and we hiked in the vicinity Thursday and Friday, hitting a few peaks and touching snow at about 3000 meters.


Views from the Orchard hut, day and night.


The trekking hut, our base camp at 2225 meters elevation.


Oy! The dog that adopted us for the week. Shoba and he were particularly close, and it was Shoba who named him. Oy was a bit ragged around the edges but an excellent guide with a wise personality. He wandered over to our trekking hut day one and remained with us, taking us all the way back down to base camp, before parting ways.

The trekking, a little challenging for the height-fearing among us - but they rallied and did great!

The mountains...

The valleys.

The sunset (view from our trekking hut.)

awww, sisters.

We then trekked back down the mountainside Saturday for a peaceful relaxing afternoon in the embraces of the Orchard Hut. Sunday we journeyed back towards Delhi, stopping in the nearest town, Chambatown, to check out some temples and scour for shopping. (most places were closed, but we managed to find a sandal shop).

Hammock party.

All in all, a very relaxing and awe inspiring journey. It's on my list to get another hit when I'm feeling motivated towards serous hiking.... any takers?

Home Stretch

Alas, I’ve been neglecting the blog. Indian standard time has sped up for me, and I now have just under six weeks to go. I spent the last two weeks “on leave” in the north with my sister Shannon, Aparna and friends Shoba and Meena, which was a very welcome change from the dusty desert of Vellore. I say this in “I can make fun of my brother but you better not” speak, as Vellore has earned itself a small corner of my heart. However, it’s getting freaking hot here – it’s been hitting 40º C all week, which converts to about 105º F. Damn.

So for my last six weeks I’m on research data collection hyper-drive. I have four years of snake bite data that needs to be compartmentalized into SPSS boxes… and boatloads of ICU SAPS scores to calculate. This is why I never blog about my work… it’s pretty boring.

Yet there are aspects of the hospital world and the rural space of Vellore that are worth mentioning. While at first I was struck by the sheer magnitude and depth of CMC, over the last several months I’ve witnessed the cracks in its armor. It cannot quite cover the satellite population it serves and people slip through these cracks. When you cut to the chase, healthcare here is pretty simple: there is none. There is no emergency response system, no insurance, no system to navigate at all. Everything is out of pocket pay, which is a bargain for medical tourists, but stretches the funds of the average person and forces many patients to “abscond” after receiving life-saving care. The majority of patients have a blank slate for past medical history, because they’ve never been to the doctor. The top three causes of death in Vellore are road traffic accidents, strokes (two points for preventive medicine and the power of controlling HTN, hyperlipidemia, etc) and suicides (hanging and organophosphate poisoning most commonly.) The emergency department is of the largest and most specialized departments in India. Yet, trauma patients with two blown pupils wait hours for urgent head CTs. Patients are brought from miles away by motorbike, draped over the handlebars with their bare feet dragging the whole way. As I review records there are many cases I’m familiar with only through board questions: leprosy, tetanus, Leishmaniasis, a veritable smorgasbord of TB from Pott’s to TB peritonitis to TB induced adrenal failure. TB is always the dark horse of any differential diagnosis. Here people wear the hardness of life – cataracts, amputations, congenital hip dysplasias, leprosy eaten limbs – and command you to bear witness.

This is rural Vellore. Sorry to be a downer. It’s just one picture. I’ve found India to be beautiful, severe, enchanting, hostile, imposing, pungent, frenetic, welcoming… the list goes on. Even though, as Jay Desai has informed me, “I’ll always be a white person here” (touché) I feel privileged to have witnessed this kaleidoscopically crazy country.

Kerala

Beaches...

Backwaters...

Chinese fishing nets of Cochin




The Popatamous and I hit up Kerala for a three day weekend before he left Vellore for Bombay and beyond. Kerala is a state on the Southwest coast of India and my favorite destination point so far. We spent the weekend soaking up sun at the beaches (through heaps of SPF for me,) canoeing along the backwaters, and making friends with the street vendors. It was pretty gorgeous, albeit a touch hot.

Long weekend in Ooty

Our little engine that could (dedicated to LKT)


Jumbo spotting


The following photos are from our early morning jungle trek.






misty lake in the early morning hours

Team Tufts with our guide

A view of Ooty from the winding "hair pinbended" drive.

The weekend of February 8-11, we conquered the overnight trains and traveled west for a weekend in the hilltown of Ooty. Built into the mountainside, Ooty serves as a respite from the heat and humidity of Tamil Nadu. I felt refreshingly chilled for the first time since I've arrived in India (apologies to the Boston folk, I hear it's been pretty cold.) We took an overnight train from Vellore to Coimbature (by far the most appealing means of traveling thus far.) We arrived at daybreak in Coimbature and made acquaintance with the steam engine that carried us, slowly but surely, up the mountain to the town of Ooty. We learned the "chug-chug" is not a fabricated noise, but truly an accurate portrayal. The train stopped frequently, allowing for photo ops as well as water refills for our little-engine-that-could. The scenery included stretches of green tea plants, graceful valleys dipping into thick rivers and rivuleted with waterfalls, and compact houses etched into the mountainsides.

We found ourselves some horses for a more intimate tour of our surroundings. I could only encourage my horse, who I named "Eeyore" for his lack of enthusiasm, to break into a halfhearted trot for 30 yards or so. A bit of a tease, but fun all the same.

From Ooty we traveled northwest to a family style "Jungle home" where we had home cooked meals, a campfire (sadly sans s'mores,) and an early morning jungle trek. Upon the backdrop of still lakes and wildflowers, the rustle of wildlife and the sounds of early morning chores were delicately studded. Our barefoot guide wove us through the landscape with care.

Night out in Chennai...

Ross, cutting out the pesky wine glass middleman...! (ok, it was a posed shot, but he looks pretty ready to down it, doesn't he?)

the gentlemen.

Taking my turn with the hookah...

the ladies.

On our night out we hit up Zara, a "happening" restaurant which blasted American classics and served a variety of continental tapas. From there we met up with Aparna's crew at a patio style hookah bar, where i took my turn in the rotation. The flushed cheeks are thanks to Ross, who never letting the Sangria glasses go more than half empty... I miss that Australian!

Tada Falls

The "Simmerna" falls, to be featured as a hot spot in the Simmerna guide to South India... where if you're lucky you'll catch these bathing beauties:)

The crew trekking along the river bed, which served as our path.

Aparna found this less traveled hike for us, about 85 km north of Chennai just over the state border in Andhra Pradesh. We used random travel blogs we found online to plan the hike, seeing as how there is no AMC guidebook equivalent. The blogs described "formidable rock formations" and "treacherous steep inclines," however, we found it pretty managable. We hiked up the riverbed and used rock climbing skills when necessary to hoist ourselves through crevices and over large boulders. I must say, I was impressed by Kim & Aparna's natural skills, I think we have found a few new Metro Rock recruits :)

Mamallapuram

A stone mural. The carvings earned Mamallapuram a "National Heritage" title.

trees, rice paddies and ocean

the other two angels are just not as quick on the draw as I am, that's all...

Will and Ross choosing an interactive tour of the carvings...

This gigantic boulder, perched seemingly precariously, is actually called "the butterball." This was Kim's favorite, and she really enjoyed saying "butterball" over and over throughout the day:)

Kim and I with our first coconut. Not at all what I expected coconut to taste like - the milk was almost salty to my Americanized taste buds and the pulp was a bit too slimy, although dried out I think it'd been fabulous.

part of the "Five Rathas," a group of Pallavan rock cut temples excavated 200 years ago by the British.

the shore temple, striking with green grass, red dirt, grey stone, black blue ocean and baby blue sky.

A couple weeks ago, a few of us took a day trip to Mamallapuram, a coastal village boasting an aesthetic shore temple, ocean side seafood cafes and stone carvings ranging from murals etched into cliffs to intricate hand-size figurines of elephants or gods.

The road to the beachfront is lined with shack after shack offering stone carvings, bangles, and other knick-knack Indian paraphernalia. As the conspicuous foreigners, we are urged to enter every shop and if we accept the invitation, items are flooded before us. A few members of the group entered countless bidding debates with shopkeepers trying to gauge just how low they could go. Between shopping and negotiating transportation fares, my bargaining skills have improved in India, and I think Grandpa Dave would have been proud. Stone carvers sit and chisel curved lines into sandstone or marble, giving birth to statuettes, the most popular being replicas of Ganesh, the god with an elephant's head, and small elephants imprisoned by a mesh-work of stone within the belly of a larger elephant.

We wandered through the park housing many large stone carvings which we enjoyed posing with, and then folllowed a rocky path a short distance away from the village where we found ourselves above fields and paddies, lakes, ocean, palm trees, and sky.

Afterwards, we returned for coconuts and sunset on the beach. The ocean was warm, but we didn't venture too far - partly because of the time, partly because donning a bathing suit would have been inappropriate for the female contingency (a few Indian women were swimming in full saris) and partly because we'd been warned that the riptide claims a few lives each year.

After a two hour drive, we were delivered safely back at the Ananda around 10pm, topping off an exceptionally long and fulfilling Sunday.