La la la la life goes on

My new roomie at the Culinary is Indian.

Going to the Chapel

Looking back at my week in KL, it seems to me my brain was mushy from Indian culture shock. Little did Williams know that we would be sitting in a restaurant and I would be constantly thinking, "I can't believe no one's looking at me no one's staring at me this is so awesome people are just going about doing their own thing there's no trash on the sidewalk I can see that woman's legs and that woman's legs and that woman's legs random people aren't asking me questions this is crazy..." So Malaysia is a place that would probably need to be revisited in order to be fully appreciated.

The Philippines were amazing. Grace was amazing. Grace's friends and family were amazing. I don't think I could go anywhere and feel more quickly integrated into a social circle. Trekked to and subsequently swam in the crater of an active volcano, ate a hard boiled fertilized duck egg, got a sweet weirdo tan surfing for the first time, and had an overall blast.

A week ago I got back to the States. A week from now I will be in New York. Starting my real life.

I went out with friends from high school last night...the first topic of conversation was who we knew who was having babies, getting engaged...married. Weird.

Put the lime in the coconut, then you feel better,

I think I would love KL solely based on the food scene. My belly has not been so happy in months. I'm doing little Yummy Tummy dances during every meal, actually my lunch today was so ridiculously fantastic that I was glad the table next to me was being rambunctious and loud so no one heard me "mmmmm, mm mmm mmm" every time I took a bite...I walk down the streets and see restaurants and pictures of food or people eating food and think, "oooooo that looks good"...pretty much nonstop. So, suffice it to say that I think I would fatten up a bit if I was sticking around here.

I'm finding it easy to get around on my own, not that I'm doing anything too complicated. It's nice to not be stared at all the time here...or at least not feel like I'm being stared at. People are really friendly but not all up in your face about it. Like, instead of standing next to you when you're in their store and trying to make you look at certain things, they've tended to just stand within eyesight, in case I need anything...or maybe they're making sure I'm not going to steal anything...hmmmmm.

So I'm pretty much ecstatic at the moment being here...well except for the rain which is impeding the swim I had planned on taking...

Tell me that I'll never be set free

Currently hanging out in the apartment o' Williams in Malaysia. I realized about a week ago that I knew (know) nothing about Malaysia and/or Kuala Lumpur. The extent of my research for this trip pretty much focused on India and otherwise a scanning of WikiTravel's sight on KL...not too thorough. So my plane landed after I did not sleep a wink during the flight and I'm feeling a little scattered. I grab my luggage, follow Mike's instructions for the train and all the while I'm trying to pop my ears. Finally, about an hour after landing I realize my ears are not plugged...it really is this quiet here.

I think it's pretty accurate to say that I'm a little dumbfounded with culture shock. I'm a little overwhelmed by normalcy at this point. Or rather, overwhelmed by things being totally different and more familiar to me than India but still absolutely not familiar. It's really nice though to be able to just hang out. To wake up, do some yoga, go to the pool then head out into KL.

Don't know when I'll be back again

Somehow, riding an overnight train from Mumbai (Bombay to you old-schoolers) to Goa put a shimmy back in my Indian shake. I woke up surprisingly refreshed...perhaps the best sleep I had in India...looked out my window to see a seemingly different country. Looked clean, thatched roofs, tropical looking. When we got out of the AC'ed train, it was in fact tropical. Some might call it oppressively ridiculously insanely humid. For some reason it broadened my smile.

I loved Goa...and I'm not altogether sure why.

Perhaps I needed the change of scenery. Perhaps the Portuguese influence made me feel like I had been transported to a Hindi speaking Brazil overnight. Perhaps being able to say, "I'm leaving India in two days" put a skip in my step. Perhaps it just had an overall different vibe. Didn't get stared at quite so much. Did get offered pot approximately 6 times in 2 hours while at the beach. Did not partake. Had some good prawns, the best lassi in India, some cashew fenni...We went to a spice farm while in Goa, which was undoubtedly awesome. Learned a ton, actually saw what a cinnamon, pepper, vanilla, etc. plant looks like, and got up close to an elephant. Plus had some great food. The food took an upswing towards the end of my trip for sure.

Other random news from India is that the Mumbai airport might be one of the most confusing airports I have ever been to. The lack of sign-age rampant on Indian roads glares it's ugly face as signs that are covered by construction are not moved to where they can be read and signs that point you to walk through a passageway now blocked by construction are not replaced with more helpful instructions. It was one of those times where I recognized people who had checked in with me and just kind of followed them.

In reference to this post:


You can also find some videos of better quality...mine came out a bit grainy...

Sitting on my own not by myself

From Udaipur we went to Ahmedabad, which is where Gandhi had set up his Ashram....and that's really all I have to say about it.

The activity of traveling is wearing on me a bit. I don't think I realized until I actually landed in India that I would be spending a month without sleeping in the same city for more than two nights in a row. Unpacking and packing everyday is always daunting...especially as I accumulate more stuff.

A flight brought us to Mumbai, which I found to be somewhat comforting because it's a big city. I find something similar about most big cities which is probably what I both love and hate about them. In Mumbai, I did find my patience waning...actually I should say that my patience was non-existent. I was done. Over it. I didn't want to be shouted at or stared at or felt like a freak-show or have teenage Indian boys taking pictures of me without asking...or with asking to be frank, or feel pushed around, sold to, creeped out, stalked, objectified, glorified...anything. I simply had nothing left for India.

But that was one day. Bookending that day, the Portuguese girls and I took a much needed and much welcome break from Indian food and treated ourselves to a nice dinner. Grilled lamb chops, potatoes, cooked vegetables that were still crisp (which made me discover that I do, in fact, still have an appetite)...and we tried a bottle of Indian wine. As we all took a sip of it, the first words out of Ana's mouth were, "Taste like cow..." to which Sarah clarified, "nooo, taste like cheese...French cheese...camembert?" I found this to be hilarious, especially when she kept saying that it wasn't so bad..."wine and cheese, those go together after all."
It was pretty awful.

sugar pop rocks it pops ya dont stop

Bijaipur Castle was our next stop after Jaipur. Badam got us pretty stoked for it, saying it would be the highlight of our trip. It wasn't a disappointment. Ana and I kept joking about being princesses. I wasn't feeling too fantastic though and eventually my general crappy feeling turned into a migraine. So, didn't turn out to be the highlight of my trip. Now, my migraines aren't so bad as far as migraines are concerned I get them very rarely and when I do have them, I stick myself somewhere silent and dark and a few hours of nap usually snaps me back into shape. Unfortunately I was in India. I'm not sure there are two things less compatible than India and migraines. Coincidentally, it is wedding season in India. This spelled me laying in bed for about eight hours, first having every smell of cooking food and passing animals rip my stomach and head apart, then have firecrackers and quite possible the worst Indian band ever make new parts of my brain explode almost constantly. Finally, as I was wondering the repercussions of a crazed American screaming profanities out to a small village wedding, the festivities abated...at 3am..

So the next morning when we left I was in a less than pleasant mood.

And then we got to Udaipur. As we climbed to the rooftop restaurant in our hotel, sat and gazed at the city, the lake, the palaces...
"This is the first time in India that I have felt like I am on vacation..."
The Norwegians didn't really understand why I hadn't felt like a vacationer the whole time but the Portuguesas got it...Most of the other time, I feel a bit like I'm preparing to battle a culture when I head out inn the morning. In Udaipur I felt like I was roaming...lounging...browsing...like people were saying Namaste to be pleasant and not because they were begging or touting...

I loved it.
We also had a nice little cooking lesson which was pretty interesting and some nice relaxing shopping...a good change-up from Jaipur.

To a place where we can play in the sun

After Fatehpur Sikri, we stayed in Peharsar, a small village. We all formed a Westerner parade around the town. Seeing this and that about a small village, forming a nice large fan base of children...waving to women working in the kitchen areas. It was pretty fun until Sarah, one of the Portuguese girls got grabbed. Then of course I started raging. Definitely dampened our moods, but it was probably good to have happened to Sarah, becase she handled it much more graciously than I would have. Although it was a grab and run so I guess there wasn't much we could have done anyway.
Later that night we learned how to make pakoras and a potato dish and had a nice dinner, interesting conversation and some entertainment by local dancers and musicians. Nice.

Peharsar was followed with a layover at Amber (Amer) castle on the way to Jaipur.

Our hotel in Jaipur was like a little oasis in the city. Turned out to be a good thing as a couple of the group members contracted Delhi of the Belly and were layed up all day while the rest of us bought everything in sight. Well mostly we shopped but we did see the castle and the observatory...but we shopped a lot. Shopping in Jaipur was exhausting. I find it difficult in India to balance being open and friendly but not too friendly...recognizing when someone is just saying namaste to say namaste or saying Namaster come into my store buy something give me money I have something for you give me money give me money give me money. In Jaipur, you're pretty much getting the latter. Every shopkeeper trying to coerce you to take a seat in his shop so he can show you everything but the item you were interested in in the first place.

Birds singing in the sycamore tree.

Directly after Fatehpur Sikri came the highlight of my day. The meal. A thali, at a basic, hole in the wall restaurant. The big news was that I wanted to keep eating when I was full. And had the best rice pudding I have ever tasted. Ever.

So the thing with indian food is that it's not that I dislike it. I eat it, it tastes ok, it makes me not hungry...ok. But, for the most part, I don't want to keep eating when I'm full. Actually, for the most part, I don't really even care to eat until I get full. And I think it fills me up more quickly than other food. A few scoops of usually highly seasoned, cooked beyond recognition, drowning in oil vegetables with some rice and/or bread of some sort and I'm kind of over it.
This brings up some other issues I have with Indian food. It's not that I think they use old produce. In fact, I'm sure their produce is generally much newer than what I eat in the States...it's the fact that I think they could use old produce, and I'd never know. Indian food strikes me as being very handy for masking low quality food. I could be wrong. I don't know.
I also feel like it all tastes vaguely the same. Other people may say, "Indians use the same 7 spices for all their dishes but there are such a variety of dishes and different ratios of spices that no two dishes taste exactly alike!!"...which, yeah, is true...but they all taste like the same seven damn spices. The fact that meals I have tasted in restaurants taste pretty much the same to my palate as the home-cooked versions doesn't make me a huge fan either.
Next there is the fresh vegetable factore. This issue is of course compounded by the fact that I am an owner of a Western stomach and therefore should NOT eat vegetables or fruit that have not been peeled and/or cooked. So it's not totally Indian food's fault that I am having daydreams that involve piles of baby carrots, celery sticks, peppers, even raw broccoli, which under normal circumstances makes me retch. A huge salad with strawberries, toasted walnuts...maybe some blue cheese? I'm doing a little dance just thinking about it. Anyway, I find most vegetables that I eat in india to generally only slightly resemble their nutritious living selves.
Now the finale and, I believe, most shocking issue. I have zero desire for fried foods. In fact, the smell of food frying makes me a bit nauseous at this point. Not that I eat a ton of fried food at home, but I do love it. However, with pakoras, puri, gulab jamun, koftas, vegetables cutlets, and puddles of oil found on every curry...I have had enough. No more por favor. If I inbibe any more oil in India, my blood will be made of it.
In other news, in the month I spent in India, I've eaten about the same amount of meat as I would eat in about 5 days in the States. Interesting.

Take me up take me down

Our second night in Delhi, we went to dinner at a local family's house. It was a little awkward honestly, sitting in a stranger's home as if at an exhibit at a museum. But it was interesting to see. we learned how to make chappatis, "we" being the women...because it's women's work...right. It was a bit odd to note that the teenage son and prepubescent daughter shared the bed in one room. I have learned since this dinner that eating quickly is not really a good thing in an Indian home. Because you will be giving more. No matter what. If you can show that you don't need another scoop of malai kofta because you still has so much on your plate you might be spared...but probably not even then.

After Delhi we hopped an early train to Agra. Overall, this tour is a lot more high class than my first which is good and bad. comfier beds but more tour guides, more included but more being coddeled...
The Red Fort was our first stop of the morning. Very impressive. Then to the Taj majal which is likewise impressive. Looks like it does in books...like, exactly. Which is kind of weird in person. Indian architecture is pretty spectacular. I've also seen and heard about it enough over the past month that I'm a little numb to the fact that you can easily some really incredible buildings, but most are falling apart and not taken care of. Although no matter how much of it I see, it still kills me how no pictures do justice to the really intricate parts...oh well.

Leaving Agra, we headed to Fatehpur Sikri, again interesting architecture and a really pleasant place except for the mosque which felt mroe like a marketplace then a place of worship.

You close your eyes and hope that this is just imagination

We arrived back in Delhi early Sunday morning. It was surprisingly sad to say goodbye to Sheila, Jo and Richard, although I guess experiencing India with three others for two weeks is bound to form some bonds.

My new group consists of Baddam, our group leader who reminds me of an Indian Robin Williams for some reason...or maybe I just think Robin Williams could do a fantastic Baddam impression...a standoffish Aussie coupke, an older couple from Iowa, their older daughter and her coworker, two Norwegian sisters and three Portuguese girls. Again I'm the youngest by about 5 years and this time I'm the only one traveling alone and traveling for longer than just this tour. The group has turned out better than I expected at first glance. Ana, one of the Portuguese girls is my roomie and they have semi-adopted me during the trip. The Norwegian sisters are hilarious and we share a love of khir (rice pudding) and enjoy laughing at the Iowan man's incessant, never-ending...thirst for knowledge. I don't know if I have ever been around anyone who asked as many questions. Mainly about nothing. The Americans do have their perks, as I don't feel bad making them speak English around me and they have stashes of peanut and dark chocolate M&Ms...pretty much the only chocolate I've had in India. Plus the daughter's knowledge base and travel experience are just insane and the coworker is a yoga teacher in her spare time and can always be seen playing with a little kid or chatting about Ayurveda to a random Indian woman (or me).

Coincidentally, the restaurant we ate at the first night in Delhi was also being frequented by Richar and Jo. Seeing how we warmly hugged and greeted each other, Baddam asked if I would prefer to join their group. Eyeing the "geriatric crowd" (Jo and Richards words, not mine) that made up their new tour, I replied that they might be happer to join us...