Calcutta was not on our original itinerary.  It's in eastern India and we had planned to stick strictly to the western side of the country.  One of the great things about our loose itinerary is how easily we are able to change it.  When we decided to go to Thailand, we realized that it would be cheapest and easiest to fly out of Calcutta. 

We only had 1 full day in Calcutta but lucky for us, my dear friend Suma is from the city.  She emailed a wonderful list of things to do and places to eat.  We didn't have enough time but we did hit a few on the list.

We hit up KC Das, a famous sweet shop, and tried the Rasgulla, Ras Malai (I think - in the back), and another unidentified one our server brought us.  We've been in India for nearly 3 months and hasn't tried any sweets until Calcutta.  Sad sad sad.

We also tried the paneer and aloo rolls at Nizam's, another famous eatery (sorry no pics of that - we ate it too fast!).  Yum.  Despite Suma's strong suggestion we try the pani puri, we didn't have a chance to eat it.  It will just have to wait until we return to India in October.

I shouldn't set any expectations for anywhere we go in India. The places I think I'll like, I don't.  The places I think I'll hate, I like.  In Calcutta's case, I wish I had more time there -- it's a really lovely city.

There seemed to be a warmth about Calcutta that we didn't find in Varanasi or Delhi.  People were nicer and less aggressive.  There was better infrastructure and less trash scattered about.  I know these are not the only things to judge a city by, but I am a big fan of sidewalks and a certain amount of personal space.  Brandon was however bummed there weren't really any cows in downtown.

We walked around the downtown, BBD Bagh/Esplanade/Park St area, on our full day in the city.  We walked through the Maiden, this park pictured above.  It was a little overgrown, with its own herd of sheep and some horses.  An oasis in the busy city. 

A busy city it was.  But I found Calcutta very walkable.  When we didn't walk, we took the subway. 

We woke up at 3:30am the following morning to catch our flight to Bangkok.  Everyone told us we had to be at the airport 3 hours before our flight was due to depart.  This may have been true but we couldn't even go through the first line of security until 1.5 hours before our flight.  There were cats in the lobby of the airport, which thrilled me, since I'm a cat-phile.  I called my mom from a phone booth in the airport and got into a heated argument when it came time to pay.  Usually when getting scammed in India, I fight back a little and then usually cave.  Is it worth a couple dollars?  But this time, I wouldn't have it.  The booth operator tried to charge me for 10 more minutes than I was on the phone.  Perhaps it was the morning making me grumpy, or the fact I was leaving the country within the hour, but I unleashed on him. It was his word against mine, 15 minutes or 25 minutes.  But he got a nice expensive international call from me and he lied about the amount of time I was on the phone.  I timed it because I didn't want to go over budget.  I got his friend, the tea shop operator involved.  I told the guy going into the booth behind me that the guy ripped me off.  In the end, airport security got involved.  I ended up paying 75 rupees more than I should have, but it was better than the 300 rupees extra he tried to charge me.  It was a fantastic way to kill time before the flight -- as we boarded immediately after I paid.

I tell this long story about the scammer because it's one of the things that frustrates me about India.  I don't mind paying too much for something as long as I have a choice.  I don't mind aggressive touts because I get that they are making a living by being hard salesmen.  It's up to me whether or not to listen to them or buy their stuff/tour/ride in their tuk tuk.  But I don't like being scammed.  In McLeod Ganj, I paid for our bus tickets with a 500 rupee note (~$10) and the guy handed it back to me and wouldn't take it because it was ripped.  I handed him another 500 rupee bill and then realized, what a jerk, he switched my nice bill with a ripped one. I know the one I handed him wasn't ripped.  It took me a few days to unload -- which I did at the post office - one of the only times I paid for anything with a pile of 500R notes -- and he didn't notice.  We're on our guard for scams and we only learn new ones by falling for them first.  

India is an incredible country in both positive and negative ways.  Hopefully by the end of the trip I will be able to "English" it in a way that makes sense.

On to Bangkok!

Varanasi, Benares - it's truly an ancient city.  3,000 years old, at least.  And you can tell.

Everywhere we've been in India has exhibited what feels like a strange mix of modernity and antiquity, both coexisting.  Nowhere has this been more apparent than Varanasi.

We arrived in the city at 1:30am and grabbed a tuk tuk to the limits of the old city.  Vehicles can't fit in the narrow alleys that line the waterfront.  In general, this is a very good thing.  The motorcycles that tried to squeeze through the crowds were too much.  Unfortunately for us this meant we had to rely on our map and compass to get us to our destination.

After about 20 minutes, we found the guesthouse, woke up the attendant, and eventually settled in our room.  We stayed in the Scindhia Guest House, which has a clean room overlooking the ghat and the Ganges.

We gave ourselves 2 full days to explore.  There was a festival to Shiva occurring during our time there, which presented a few "road blocks" and added some confusion for us.  Thousands of Hindu pilgrims dressed in orange lined up to pay homage to Shiva. 

Varanasi is the "holiest place to die."  As we wandered the alleys, a number of times a parade of mourners would walk through carrying the wrapped body of a loved one to the burning ghat. 

A ghat is just steps down to the water.  In the center of the "riverwalk" is the Marnikarnika Ghat, the main burning ghat.  We didn't climb up the pavilion to view the cremation.  What was fascinating were the piles of wood outside, and the seemingly heated negotiations involved in buying the wood for the funeral pyre. 

We tried to take one of the famous boat rides but due to the festival, there was security forbidding the boats from passing in front of the Marnikarnika Ghat and the famous Dasawamedh Ghat (site of the evening aarti).  The aarti is a ritual involving putting burning lamps and offerings onto the water.  

In many ways, Varanasi reminded me of a dirty Venice.  Ten years ago I visited Venice and was frustrated by the lack of street signs. I got lost.  I knew I would eventually find my bearings but I still didn't like it.  Varanasi is very similar.  It was hard to figure out where we were.  The compass was a godsend.  We were accosted (like usual) by people trying to "help" us or sell us stuff.  But in Varanasi I felt claustrophobic.  That and all the dodging of the cow piles.  After a fresh rain.

I know it's a special place and I recognize that not everywhere is for me.  I believe Varanasi is a must see if you can fit it into your India itinerary but it's not a place I would go out of my way to go back to.

Next stop: Calcutta.  This is a city I would return to. 

We stayed in McLeod Ganj for nearly 2 months -- and it was 2 months well spent!  Teaching English turned out to be a really rewarding experience.  It helps that we had students who were beyond appreciative for our time and attention.  I know that teaching is now always like that.

On our last day of class, our students and fellow volunteers threw us a party.

Even more special were the cards we received from the students.  Everyone wrote us a personal note, many in both English and Tibetan.  They are so beautiful.  And the class gave us katas - white scarfs as a gift of honor.  We were totally spoiled.  If we get a chance, we will definitely go back to Gu Chu Sum. 

A few of us went out that evening for a goodbye dinner and some wine.  A real treat. 

Only 5 hours after dinner ended we began our 48 hour journey from McLeod Ganj to Varanasi.  We caught our bus, which left on time, and trouble began about 2 hours into our ride.  We sat in the bus for a while and then the driver yelled, "Everybody off the bus.  FIRE!"  We had been snoozing, so I jumped up and frantically grabbed my stuff, grabbed Brandon, and ran out of the bus.  It wasn't a fire, it was a fall tree that had held us up.  The driver must have mixed up his potential disasters. 

We got on another bus on the other side of the tree and started moving again.  This bus was not nearly as nice and as an added bonus, it was leaking water (it was raining) from the ceiling and windows.  Sweet.  It's ok, we're troopers and we got seats, which was better than lots of other people.  We made it about a half hour until the bus stopped again.  A landslide!  That took about 2.5 hours to clear and we finally got through.

The bus stopped in Pathankot - which should be around 3 hours from Dharamsala- about 8 hours after we left.  We were told a new bus would come in 1.5 hours to take us to our destination, Amritsar.  We couldn't wait.  We found another bus, which we had to pay for (different company, our other tickets to Amritsar didn't work), and made it there with just enough time to spare to grab dinner.

We got to the train station and found out the train was delayed 5 hours.   We sat in the waiting room until it came, then boarded the train and slept like babies til the next morning.  Finally, at 48 hours after we left McLeod Ganj, we arrived in Varanasi. 

The next post... more about the oldest city in India.   

Saturdays are usually the days that people pack out the ballparks in the US to catch a double header.  An early game and an evening game. 

Our early game was a morning prayer with His Holiness the Dalai Lama (HHDL from here on out).  We didn't have to get tickets but like the ballpark, we did have to go through security before entering the temple complex (no cameras allowed!).  We heard about the morning prayer from two sources:  one of our fellow English class volunteers and from the town crier --- literally, a man who walks around town with a bullhorn making announcements.

At 7:30am (gasp!) we entered the temple complex and waited with thousands of people for HHDL to make his entrance.  We later heard there were 7,000 people there. It's hard not to feel irreverent as an outsider at such a profound gathering.  As HHDL walked past us everyone held their hands in prayer and bowed.  The crowd of us were then allowed upstairs on the same level as the main temple.  We sat down cross-legged on the ground, unfortunately not in view of HHDL or the main prayer room.  For an hour, everyone prayed for the flood victims in Pakistan, India, Tibet & China.  It's hard to describe what Tibetan prayer is like, but here's a video I found on youtube that is similar:

There were no peanuts and crackerjacks available, however, during the middle of the service, everyone was given a cup of tea!  This helped me deal with sitting cross-legged for so long -- I made it a whopping 50 minutes... an all star record for me! 

Our later game was a visit to see the 17th Karmapa.  In Tibetan Buddhism there are four schools: Gelug, Sakya, Kagyu, and Nyingma.  The Dalai Lama is the head of the Gelug school, while the Karmapa is the head of the Kagyu school.  The Gelug school has been most prominent for the last century, hence the Dalai Lama's international fame. 

We grabbed a taxi with our friends Terence and Nancy.  Home run!  No pre-partying for us, this was a holy visit.  We lined up, received a protection cord from the Karmapa, and left.  That was it.  Short game.  A shut out!

This cord is no entry to the beer garden!  It's supposed to keep me safe as long as I have it on.  I'll take all the blessings I can get!  You'd understand if you've ever tried to cross a street in India. 

Although this post has been rather silly, time for me to be a tad serious.  I wouldn't call myself buddhist or a follower of any religion in particular.  But there's a lot about buddhism that I'm draw to.  There's a joy and humility among the Tibetans here, especially among our students, who have led such difficult lives.  It really puts things in perspective.

*This blog post is dedicated to Donna

Brandon and I have been teaching an English Conversation class for about a month now, to a group of Tibetan refugees.  All are students at Gu Chu Sum (the organization) because they are either former political prisoners or have family members who are currently in prison.

The class is from 4:30-6:30pm, every day except Sunday.  Lucky for us, a couple from Canada showed up and took 2 days, so we've been teaching only 4 days/week.  Lesson planning takes a lot more time that I would have imagined, although now that we've been doing it for a month, it's getting easier.  Also, the students' English is getting better that we can communicate basic things to them.  They all started studying at the beginning of July.

The thing that's most amazing about this class is their desire to learn.  Despite being in classes from 8am until 6:30pm, they are incredibly good natured, funny, and thoughtful.  Especially for people who have been though so much.  Everyone, it seems, had to make the dangerous, illegal journey through the mountains from Tibet to Nepal.  They have all left their families and loved ones.  I don't know most of their stories but I do know of 2 who were monks who protested during the March 2008 Olympics protests.  3 of their colleagues were arrested and they fled Tibet before they could get caught.  On others you can see visible scars and can't help but wonder where they came from.

Singing and dancing is clearly an integral part of Tibetan culture.  Almost every day we take some class time and sing; usually the class nominates someone and they usually succumb to the peer pressure, the repeated shouts of their name and clapping.

Although I don't know the exact words of the songs, I am told they are very poetic, and speak of the Dalai Lama and Tibetan freedom without calling them out specifically.  The songs give them hope, that someday they will be free to be who they are.

One of the students, Jampa (a student whose English is more advanced and who I have separate conversation time with), sang to us a song that is commonly sung by political prisoners.  Here it is:

My legacy at Gu Chu Sum is the American classic, Bingo.  Every Tuesday, we play Bingo, and the students have a chance to win fabulous prizes, like peanut butter or Pringles.  It's a hit (more students manage to come on this day).  What makes it most special, is the song they've all learned.  I learned it myself by going to Rainbow Bingo at the Senior Center of West Seattle.  In West Seattle, the song is sung by cross dressing nuns.  We're a little tamer in McLeod Ganj:

Are you ready?
Yes we're ready!
Are you ready?
Yes we're ready!
To play Bingo!
With You!

Only 1 week of class left.  I'm going to miss these guys!