Heading South

Until now, we've spent our time in north India - make that North India. As an Indian friend once told me many years ago - "we have our own Mason-Dixon line."

We took the train from Agra to Delhi, then flew from Delhi to Chennai (formerly Madras), then nigh-trained from Chennai to Madurai.

We had a few hours to kill in Delhi. We were pretty tired from somewhat constant traveling - Mumbai-Jaipur-Bikaner-Agra - so rather than site-see, we found the nicest restaurant at the nicest hotel we could, had a really good meal and chilled.

Flight to Chennai, then, our last night train - from Chennai to Madurai.

Many differences between the north and south. First, there's language. In Madurai, people speak Tamil, not Hindi.

The linguistic diversity of India is staggering. About 200 languages and dialects, 15 offically recognized languages. Hindi is the officially recognized national language and the problem is - few southerners speak Hindi. Hindi is actually more closely related to English (we are both Indo-European languages) than it is to Tamil (from the Dravidian language group - indigenous to this region, while Hindi descends from Sanskrit and other languages brought by the Aryan invasion of the subcontinent thousands of years ago).

The closest thing to a lingua franca here is English, and most people don't speak that either. Nehru had wanted to make English the official language of India, but he lost that battle and the northern-dominated parliament made Hindi the national language - despite the fact that more than half the country did not speak it at all.

Becky learned Tamil, which is great down here but it was useless in the North.

Another difference - Madurai is a much more culturally conservative town than the other places we have been. One won't see a woman in modern dress here - saris, plus an additional wrap covering a woman's chest are required for going out in the street. Becky was shocked to see women wearing jeans and such in Mumbai. I even saw women in saris in a yoga class (though, that was also the only place I saw a couple of women wearing pants).

Also - nearly every man I see in Tamil Nadu has a moustache. Some have beards, but probably less than one in a hundred have an exposed upper lip. Facial hair is common in the north, but not like this.

Oh - one more thing. My camera died - I think from sand from our camel safari in the desert. So I don't expect to have any more photos - at least not from my camera.

Taj Mahal

Becky, David, and Raphael, searching for the Taj Mahal
gotta be around here somewhere...)

I'm sitting in the gardens that front the Taj Mahal.

When you see it for the first time it is breathtaking. In some respects it is not that elaborate in design - the simplicity works. Don't get me wrong, it is majestic, awesome and, yes, elaborate - I just mean there are other examples of Mogul architecture with more intricate detailed artistry. We saw one today - Itimad ud-Daulah, nicknamed the Baby Taj, a mausoleum built by Shah Jahan's father, Jahangir, for his father-in-law. More detailed art in the tile work than the Taj.


Itimad ud-Daulah (Baby Taj) - actually built earlier than the Taj Mahal.
Also in Agra, a few miles from the Taj Mahal.


Closer view of the Itimad ud-Daulah - across the river from the Taj.

Still - the Taj Mahal is magical.

The whiteness helps - the way the white marble plays with the light, and reflects - as if it has a surreal glow.

Of course, it is a tourist scene, but I can block all that out and focus on its serene beauty as hawks silently glide over and around it.

It is set on a platform - about 3 stories high - so you are always looking up at it and the backrop is only sky, it is the singular image - behind it the earth drops down to the bank of the Yamuna River.

On an aesthetic level - it is magnificent; architecturally, it is glorious.

Shah Jahan built the Taj as a mausoleum and memorial to his wife Arjumand Banu Begum - known as mumtaz mahal (chosen one or ornament of the palace).

She was his 3rd wife but his clear favorite - he took little interest in his other wives once she joined the harum. She was 19 when they wed and 38 when she died - so half her life was with him. She died giving birth to their 14th child.

It is said that his grief was so severe, he hair turned gray overnight (another story has him going into seclusion for a year and when he returned his hair was gray).

Legend has it that her dying wish was for him to build something beautiful to memorialize their love.

22 years, 20,000 workers and 5 million rupees later - he did.

The romance is countervailed by the brutality, vanity, and wastefulness its construction necessitated. Legend has it that he had the hands of the builders cut off when it was done, so they would not be able to replicate their work. Takes a bit of an edge off the romance (though some historians dispute this story).

The Taj Mahal is not just the building. It is surrounded by gardens, pools and fountains, and a mosque and a guest house - architectural beauties in their own right, along with an impressive entry gate to the gardens. Outside that gate a courtyard/public square, surrounded by walls and 3 gates.


Gate to Taj Mahal courtyard

Outside of THAT - every vendor one can imagine, hawking every possible cheap artifact or postcard, or guide service. See Slumdog Millionaire to get a sense of the scene outside the gates.

We spent most of the afternoon there. Late in the afternoon, we crossed the river and watched it from the other side of the river, as dusk fell.

From Desert to Temple of Rodents

If you are a Charan, this could be your ancestor





We camped in tents - the desert got very cold at night.

The next morning, I decided I preferred to walk out, rather than ride the camel. Riding a camel was fun - for a day. I realized I don't like sitting for a long period of time.

This turned out to be a good decision, not only because I enjoyed the 10 mile walk, but because Ajendra, our guide, ended up walking with me for about half the trek and we had an interesting conversation.

Ajendra had worked in textiles in Delhi. However, the big city was expensive and he was unable to save any money. So his uncle Vijay invited him to come to Bikaner to work as a desert guide. His wife is living with his parents in Andhra Pradesh, meanwhile.

Ajendra had gone to Hindi school, not English school, but he taught himself English. His English is not ideal for a guide, but he makes a good effort.

Ajendra is a big fan of Israel, for multiple reasons. It seems that Israeli scientists have been helping Rajasthan preserve the Great Thar Desert. They planted a bunch of Acacia trees to prevent erosion. Ajendra was impressed with Israeli expertise and grateful for their assistance.

Also, Ajendra is an Indian nationalist - very much against Pakistan, against Muslim extremism. He believes India and Israel have common cause in the struggle against aggressive Islamic fundamentalism.

Ajendra admires how Israel deals with terrorism. He believes India should emulate Israel in its response to terrorists who infiltrate the border from Pakistan. Ajendra's brother is in the army - he serves in a border control in Kashmir.

He's hoping to get a job with a big retailer in Jaipur - after which he would move his wife and parents to join him there. His plans are stalled by the economic downturn, so he continues to work the camel treks.


Karni Mata Temple in Deshnoke. Truly one-of-a-kind. Keep readinng to find out what makes Karni Mata Temple so special!

After we left the desert, we traveled to the Karni Mata Temple in Deshnok. Karni Mata was a 14th century incarnation of Durga, a Hindu goddess. The story Becky told me about Durga is that at the age of 7 she restored the limbs to a bunch of limbless gods simply by looking at them. That is impressive power. So, Durga was sort of like the Dakota Fanning of of the gods.

But this is not a Durga temple, it is a Karni Mata temple. Karni Mata is an incarnation of Durga.

Karni Mata, according to legend, asked Yama, the god of death, to restore to life the son of a grieving storyteller who was a devotee of hers. Yama refused (apparently, the dead body had already been processed and could not be recalled, so in a way, it was like Heaven Can Wait, when Buck Henry tells Warren Beaty he can't have his body back because it's already been processed - so it's nice to know that bureaucracy was alive and well 1500 years ago). So Karni Mata reincarnated all dead storytellers as rats (this somehow got back at Yama by depriving him of the souls of dead storytellers). An alternative variant had Karni Mata reincarnating all her devotees as rats. Either way, the rats are considered holy - reincarnated souls of Karni Mata devotees, who may or may not have been story tellers. In one version, Karni Mata's devotees reincarnate as rats and then the rats reincarnate as devotees. So, if you are a devotee (a Charan), it could be your grandpa scurrying across the floor.

This story is important because Karni Mata Temple - a major pilgrimage site - is overrun with rats. Hundreds of rats scurry about the temple - they are protected, cared for, even cherished as Karni Mata's devotees, the reincarnated raconteurs.

Retired story tellers enjoying a snack - however, many others were scurrying about all over the place.

One must remove one's shoes before entering the temple - so you get to walk barefoot among hundreds of rats.

It is considered auspicious if a rat scampers across your feet and even more lucky if you happen to spot a white rat. Plus, it is said to be super auspicious to eat or drink food that a rat has salivated in (yes, you read that correctly). They feed milk to the rats and it's said that when there was an epidemic in the area, people drank from the milk the rats were drinking and they were healed. Mmm - rat drool!


Drink from this bowl for good luck!

Auspicious is a big word and concept in Hinduism. There are auspicious and inauspicious days and times. Tuesdays and Saturdays are auspicious days. We visited the Monkey Temple outside Jaipur on an auspicious day (full moon) and thus it was a pilgrimage day.

Getting back to the rats...during the camel trek, I'd been impressed with the camels' ability to avoid stepping in camel droppings. Camels produce a great deal of shit and they don't let it slow them down - they just keep walking and let it drop. In a camel train, the camels are walking in single file - yet the seem pretty adept at effortlessly avoiding stepping in the droppings of their predecessor (and always in stride - you never see a camel ABOUT to step in shit and then move its hoof, as a human would - instead, it's as if they know where the camel shit will be and they just always miss it - they've got good shit radar).

After Karni Mata, i must say that avoiding camel dung is not a big deal - it's large and easy to spot. Rat droppings, on the other hand...

Now, I would like to say that i was wholly present at Karni Mata and open to whatever spirituality of the place would flow into me. The fact is that I was primarily focused on the task of not placing my bare feet in rat shit. And, I guess I would say that the flaw in the system was that my focus on this earthly matter got in the way of my spiritual awakening at Karni Mata. But perhaps that is just me. Perhaps other pilgrims can get swept up by the spirit of Karni Mata's devotees and not worry about their bare feet intersecting with the devotees' droppings. Or perhaps they are like the camels, and they can effortlessly walk barefoot across the floors of the Karni Mata Temple without soiling their feet in the excrement of Karni Mata's reincarnated devotees. Maybe they were even able to eat some rat saliva. As for me - I was looking down the whole time and, somehow, I didn't have much of an appetite for rat drool-enhanced milk or, for that matter, any food at all.

Still, it was kind of cool. I wasn't grossed out by all the rats. It was fascinating really, and interesting how all the pilgrims seemed to be totally ok about the rats. It was entertaining to imagine how certain friends and relations might react to Karni Mata's drooling devotees, the rodents who once were or weren't tellers of tales.


Karni Mata and her devotees

After Karni Mata, we returned to Vijay's Guest house to pack up our stuff, shower and head to the train to Agra. vijay gave us the run of the kitchen and the kids made peanut butter-banana sandwiches. Vijay gave me a half-drunk bottle of rum for the road and told me if I come back, my stay is on the house.

We boarded a 6:30 pm train - to arrive in Agra at 6:30 AM Tuesday. It was kind of a hellish ride, 3 berths to a side and the train kept stopping and people were getting on and off all night. None of us got much sleep, so when we got to Agra, we went to the hotel and spent the morning resting or napping.

Desert Birthday

December 14

Woke up early and went for a run down the sleepy back alleys of our neighborhood on the outskirts of Bikaner.

Bikaner is a Rajasthani desert town near the Pakistani frontier. It is home to a half million people, but after Mumbai and Jaipur, Bikaner, at least our part of it, is downright bucolic.

White people are uncommon enough in this neighborhood; a 6'3" man with sunglasses running - that is an exotic site to the men, women, children, cows and goats with whom I share my morning - acutely aware that I am running within a context in which they are normal and I am VERY weird.

Returned to Vijay's Guest House and Vijay was waiting for me - to congratulate me on my birthday and present me with a birthday gift - a leather bound journal.

Vijay (also known as "Camel Man"), has been running camel safaris since 1982 along with a 10 room inn. Vijay is very old school - hospitable, friendly, efficient; he embodies an India that I've imagined - warm and friendly and correct and proper, with heavy British colonial influence - but I'm not sure how much still exists. His dad was a colonel in the British, then Indian army, and photos of his dad in various military scenarios and marches and hob-knobbing with Indian and British leaders abound around the inn, interspersed with pictures of Hindu gods.

Vijay offers home hospitality - his wife cooks the meals and the guests sit around one table together. You don't have to eat there, but it was convenient, friendly and the food was good. It's their home as well as ours, and it has a very homey feel.

After breakfast, we left for the desert. 3 of us, 4 camels (one to shlep the cart), 4 camel drivers and our guide, Ajendra.

The Great Thar Desert spans northwest India, northern Pakistan and even some of eastern Afghanistan. We were on the eastern edge and Ajendra believes Osama bin Laden is living on the western side of this desert.

The most fun part of riding a camel is getting on or off. A camel is a very large accordian - it folds down so you can mount it, then - up-up-up fast, like an amusement partk ride. Riding the camel is not such a thrill experience, but it can be meditative.


This camel is ready to be mounted -then it straightens its legs and rises.
I have a feeling you will be seeing a lot of camel photos in this post...


And here's Becky, ready to go

Most interesting aspect was seeing the desert wildlife - gazelles, musk deer, quail (I think it was quail - Ajendra tried very hard but his english is not so good, so when I'd ask him about an animal or plant, he could tell me the Hindi name -- the bird I think is a quail is called a teeter in Hindi).

After an hour or so we hit a little desert village. Homes constructed from straw and dung.

The little kids in the village got a kick out of seeing our little camel caravan, as the camels stopped at a well to stock up on water. No English here at all.

Raphael took the opportunity to teach them the words, music, and dance moves to "YMCA" by the Village People.



Our little desert village


Our welcoming party. Soon these village people would be twisting into "Y-M-C-A"






Feeling far away from the Mumbai crowds


...very far...

At the end of the day we reached camp - a clearing on top of a large sand dune.

Watched the sun set over the desert and went for a run across the sand dunes (people don't run here and they find my propensity quite odd). Found a really big one to roll down - which is always fun.



When I returned to camp, everyone was lined up to sing Happy Birthday - Raphael and Becky, Ajendra, the camel drivers, and the other guests from the inn who had been driven out to meet us for dinner and my birthday celebration.

We were serenaded by Rajasthani musicians playing Rajasthani music on harmonium and drum, as we watched the sun set over the desert and danced to the music.


Rajasthani music in the desert


Dancing in the desert

After dinner, they brought out a cake on which was written - "52nd Birthday Mr. David." On top was a plastic flower with a candle in the middle - when the candle was lit, the flower opened to a bunch of separate lotus petals, each with its own candle - and it played "Happy Birthday" (incessantly - we eventually had to kill it in order to go to sleep). I made a wish and blew out the candles and the musicians played some Rajasthani birthday song in my honor (i could tell because the Rajasthani lyrics went - yada yada yada mr. David yada yada yada).

Then, a series of fireworks were launched - they make a big deal out of birthdays around here. Meanwhile, the desert sky was lit up with stars - from from the light pollution of the city. We laid down on sand and stared up at the brilliant starry sky.

Then, as if on cue, the moon rose - full and burnt orange - providing the finale to the evening light show.

Thus, in the Great Thar Desert, I celebrated by 52nd birthday.

Bikaner: Wildlife & Lake Gajner

We night-trained to Bikaner from Jaipur. Our plan had been to embark on a camel safari the next morning, but Becky was sick when we pulled into Bikaner. So we postponed the camel safari and let her sleep.

After a quiet morning at Vijay's Guest House, Raphael and I took a car out to a game preserve and did a jeep safari. We saw lots of antelopes, black buck, wild boar, and other game. After, we hung out on the patio of a grand old hotel on the shore of Lake Gajner. We sipped tea, ate cookies, read our books, watched flocks of birds graze the lake as the sun slowly set. Very serene and beautiful.


Wild boar at the wildlife preserve


Neelgai - Indian antelope


Raphael enjoying tea and biscuits and a good book on Lake Gajner

Returned and dined with the other guests - a British expat who lives in Switzerland, and a young couple from Belgium.


I took this shot as we were stuck in Bikaner traffic on the way back from Gajner. Our car was stopped at a railroad crossing and this was the vehicle next to us - as interested in me as I was in it. An apt ending of the day and preparation for tomorrow's camel safari.

Temple of the Sun God (and monkeys)

After visiting the school, we took a trip to the Temple of the Sun God at Galta - a few kilometers outside Jaipur.

It is also known as the Monkey Temple - because it's crawling with monkeys.

The temple was first built about 1200 years ago, over a natural spring on the side of a mountain overlooking a gorge. The spring is believed to produce water as holy as the water from the Ganges River. The temple was built on the site where a sage came to meditate.

We visited the temple on an auspicious day - that night would be a full moon. Thus, hordes of pilgrims were there, mostly bathing in the temple. It was quite a scene. People were purifying themselves in the holy water with gusto. And the colors - saris of every hue hanging everywhere, it was kalaidoscopic.













Next - night train to Bikaner - frontier town near Pakistan border - for a 2-day camel safari and then a visit to a temple with holy rats!

Jaipur, Rajasthan

Raphael with snake charmer near Jaipur (I learned how they get the cobra to perform)



I am on 3 trips -

1. I'm experiencing each place we visit, seeing the sites, meeting people, etc.;
2. beyond that, I'm experiencing the gestalt of India - the subtext of all these experiences, and how they all fit together to comprise my overall impression; and
3. an adventure with my two older kids - regardless of the backdrop. We are sort of like the 3 musketeers (or, perhaps, the 2 musketeers and their dad).

Jaipur, Rajasthan

Rajasthan is a rugged area in northwest India. It was populated and ruled for a long time by the Rajputs, a warrior class (or caste) who resisted foreign domination for a long time. Thus, Rajasthan is full of old forts and still retains a distinctive regional flavor.

Jaipur is known as the pink city. The old city was built by Maharaja Jai Singh in the 18th century (it is Jaipur after him) and it was painted pink by a later maharaja to honor the arrival of the prince of Wales.

What we did in Jaipur -
- visited the Amber Fort and the Winter and Summer Palaces of the Mahajaras (very cool and beautiful)


The palace at Amber



Amber Winter Palace Gate


Detail of Ganesh in the Amber Winter Palace

- rode elephants


Raphael and Becky riding the elephant

- visited the old city, the city palace, and lots of stuff within it


Old city - Jaipur


Raphael and Becky with our guide, Najendra at the observatory in the old city - built in the 18th century for astronomical and astrological research


world's largest sun dial in the old city of Jaipur


- visited a gem polishing workshop (along with the requisite visit to the shop) and a textile workshop (along with the requisite visit to the shop)

- visited a private school for disadvantaged kids (Len Lehmann connected us to the Mamta Vidhya Mandir School). We met with the headmistress, the president of the board (the headmistress's brother) and visited some classrooms. Even the the government provides public education, there are no schools in the area where many poor Jaipur people live - without this school, those kids would not get an education. $30 covers costs to educate one child for a year.


Raphael with a teacher at a private school for disadvantaged children in Jaipur.


The very polite students of the Mamta School - this is a typical classroom


Becky with a couple of kids at the school.

- visited the outdoor bazaars in the old city

- visited a tribal arts and crafts festival

- visited a Hindu temple at a holy site during a pilgrimage day (see next entry)

- ate lots of Indian food

- dodged lots of honking cars and auto rickshaws

While I was riding the elephant, I felt my Blackberry vibrate - a message from Carol Winograd (who'd been in Jaipur a few weeks earlier). I thought it would be cool to email her back and let her know I was riding an elephant at that moment. This (me checking my Blackberry while on top of an elephant) was captured by my children on camera - a photo that no doubt will richly come in handy for future abuse of their dad.


Riding an elephant to Amber Fort while reading an email from Carol Winograd on my blackberry

Ellen later wrote to me that she thought using my Blackberry while riding an elephant must be at least as dangerous as using my Blackberry while walking. I have to report that this is definitely NOT true. here is why -

Walking outdoors in India requires tremendous concentration. If you are not alert, you will very likely -
1. be hit by a moving vehicle
2. bump into a human or animal
3. step in cow, camel, donkey, elephant, dog, or human shit
4. step on a human who may be sitting or lying on the sidewalk
5. fall into a hole
6. stumble over a pile of bricks, sand, dirt or trash

Any of these things are likely if one is walking and not alert. NONE of these things will occur if one is simply sitting on top of an elephant. Sitting on an elephant requires one thing - making sure you don't fall off the elephant. That is not very hard. Thus, to summarize - using my Blackberry while riding on top of an elephant is far LESS dangerous than using it while walking.

I had not run since coming to this country. Last year I visited Becky in South Africa and I ran almost every day near my hotel. Here in India, the streets and sidewalks are clogged. Trying to run around here would be like trying to drive fast on the Long Island Expressway during rush hour.

Two discoveries helped. First - I found a park, about 3 km from my hotel. Second, it turns out that India is a late-rising country -the roads are pretty empty early in the morning. In this sense, India is like a country of teenagers.

No one at the hotel could give me directions to the park, but I found it myself. I ran the 3 k - leaving at 7:30 and the roads were, well, like normal for Palo Alto, which means - totally empty by Indian standards - then I ran around the park and then got back for breakfast. It was great!

I'm struck by the juxtapositions - walking along the street I can see on the sidewalk an altar to Ganesh, and nearby a billboard for thin crust pizza.

People often say what a religious country the U.S. is - and it certainly is in comparison to Europe. Walking around India, it's common to see altars to Hindu deities everywhere. I would walk in the neighborhood of my Mumbai hotel and pass someone doing a puja (Hinda prayer ceremony) in a storefront or even outside.

On the other hand, while Hinduism seems more present in public life, Becky says it is a more laid back religion than Western religions. Hinduism is more about the practice and about one's relationship with the deities. But there is less about one's relationship with other humans. There is certainly dharma - righteous path, but dharma can be different for different groups and people. There doesn't appear to be halacha, in the sense of codified laws that everyone must or should adhere to. On the other hand, Indian society is full of taboos. The taboos seem more cultural than religious, but it's hard to know where religion ends and culture begins. And there are numerous different strains of Hinduism. So - Becky would argue with my observation that India seems more religious than the U.S. Of course, what do I know? I've only been in this country 5 days .



Pool of water at Hindu temple in Amber, outside palace. Looks like an M.C. Escher painting.