Fiddler on the roof in smelly Delhi

Smelly Delhi hits you in the belly like a hole in a welly
 errrrrrrrrrrr
During the past six weeks I've collected some horror stories about Delhi, only to find myself enjoying Delhi more then a lot of 'nice' places I've been too. It probably had more to do with the people I met in the hostel more then anything else.
Delhi is probably the most Indian place I've been. It sounds silly but by that I mean its India intensified times ten. There are big holes on the street to sewers, I can smell it, there are a comparable number of beggars to Madurai and every bit of space is being used. There's plenty of good street food - not just samosas but I was welcomed to the north by the sight of men standing over tandoori clay ovens making thousands of naans throughout the day. Delhi isn't colourful but its full to the brim. Some corners look like Piccadilly adverts times ten (minus the electric lights and instead dozens of fading signs). It's hard to know where to look, or what to photograph, because something fascinating is going on 360 degrees around you.
One of the guys in the hostel was also into street photography ( about to purchase a Voigtlander) so he lead the way into some crazy narrow side streets (where the 'gang' had been the day before) filled with photographic faces and chaos. Not a tourist in sight, just lots of friendly faces. Yup, so far I've found the north pretty friendly, if not friendlier. It may just be my attitude and the people I was with. I've notices people speak a lot more to guys and they will never address me if I'm with a guy.
I'm not sure I would have stomached Delhi or gone so off the main roads on my own so I owe the folks I met my experience of that city. I also owe the weather - not too hot, freak cook period which allowed us to walk about all day long . It even rained and I had one of my best cups of chai siting on benches under the blue shelter of a chai seller in a street about meter wide. You could tell from the big smiles that it wasn't common to get white people down there.
Most of the people in the hostel had just arrived to India so we went for an 'educational' Bollywood film. I fully recommend Housefull 2 if you dont speak any Hindi. It was great albeit long, starting at 11pm and finishing at 2am. I dont know if this gives a fair idea as this computer has no sound, but hell..... here's the trailer. Be warned, it has some of the worst fight scenes I've seen in a long time: 

In Delhi I also had one of the most successful shopping trips of my life- I bought trainers and a violin in two hours!!!!! After two months of not playing I was pretty nervous so I sat on the rooftop terrace of the hostel playing to Delhi. A man from the building next door (a building site really) came and watched , staring for about fifteen minutes until some of my compadres burst in stating that I sounded good, didn't need the privacy and thus demanded I play on. I still cant remember half the tunes so send me recommendations and I'll try learn them- I've got the time.... as long as the sheet music is online or a good vid on youtube.

Playing on the roof wasn't the only unusual situation that my strings were pulled .... I also ended up playing to a busy highway somewhere outside of Delhi . My first major transport misshap. Not bad after two months given that I've taken pretty much every available transport-Its not a bad list: by train: 2AC , 3AC, Sleeper, sitting, standing, Local buses, Sleeper buses, semi-sleeper buses, vikrams, rickshaws, taxis, ferries, bicycle rickshaws, feet........... How did the small one get kicked off a bus in the middle of nowhere? I booked a bus out of Delhi, at the bus station was told the wrong bus by the guys at the information office (but it was going to the same place so the driver told me it was going to my destination and in I hopped...).  Twenty minutes out of Delhi the ported tells me its not the bus I booked, flags the bus down and tells me to get off at what was a sort of bus stop on the side of the road. It didn't occur to me then to just pay the fare since I'd clearly missed the booked bus.....
So with two men  as an audience, who didn't speak English but seemed certain about the next bus, I played my confused fiddle to the passing cars.
In the end one of the guys accompanied me back to the main bus station and after all the craziness I decided I'd better stay another few nights in Delhi and chill out a bit.
So round two with the buses went well. Didn't pre-book so no chance of missing the bus.... Just jumped on the local bus to Haridwar: One of the most sacred sights for Hindu's as the gate of the Ganges. Pilgrims come to bathe in the waters and every evening they perform Aarti (worship) on the banks before floating bundles of lit flowers down the river. Its all quite beautiful aside from Officials asking you for donations every five meters. I don't mind donating to schools or giving the occasional street kid a few rupees but hell am I gonna pay for someone else's religious ceremony. It's pretty but I don't even understand it.
In Haridwar I met/went budget room hunting with an Austrian guy who'd been traveling 18 months.Clearly 18 months made him think he was king of the road and quicker to judge a book by its cover. When I pulled my 'big' camera out of my bag he called me a european princess.Coming from someone with a snappy canon pixar type who could afford to travel for so long I thought it was a bit rich. Europeans are all royalty in comparison with the majority of Indians......    It made me think a lot about how lucky we are and how we carry ourselves everywhere we go etc. (continue the pondering....................................................................................................................................
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he did have a positive attitude, especially to being photographed by Indians. So I got something out of the meeting (the positive attitude that is) ...
Now I'm in Rishikesh. Yoga capital of the world (i.e. that place the Beatles went to in India). Its beautiful...already in the foothills but set in the valley with a clean, turquoise Ganges flowing under the two suspension bridges which bring together the two sides of the town. I'm trying out Yoga..... so far so good. I can't understand the teacher so well but it's good to stretch some under-used muscles.....and prepare for the real mountains ahead.
lots of love
L x

Watered, Fed and Sun-ed

So after my last post I set off to Madurai, home of the great Sree Meenaksmi temple before speeding my way around Kerela to find out for myself why it calls itself 'Gods Own Country' under every signpost.
Madurai felt like a very Indian town. Sure there were tourist shops..... but it felt more hectic: no pavement at all, more street vendors  etc. After Pondicherry which has an obvious dividing line between the french/tourish quarter and the tamil quater, it felt like a much more sincere experience, albeit far less chilled. The only place you could really go to sit aside from cafes was in the temple which itself is huge. Luckily you buy a ticket for the day so I went in and out a lot to escape the madness of the city center mainly just to sit and read for few hours in the shade and draw people. The temple is build to honour a consort of Shiva: Meenakshmi born with three breasts and the prophecy that when she met her partner, her third breast would disappear. Clearly this happened because to my disappointment i didn't see any three-breasted lady sculptures. Only the usual, very sexy normal ones. The temple was huge and beautiful. If I remember rightly it has six huge towers, all covered in thousands of small statues of gods/people ..... and twice as many feet. The colours are extremely bright and lion-dragon gargoyle type sculptures line the tops of all the columns. Its the first time where I really  felt like I understood how people used the temple, seeing families sit on the steps to share food or read before going to make offerings... It becomes part incorporated into their daily lives. Perhaps it is just because it is bigger then all the temples I've seen, I found it impressive. However, I've a suspicion being so used to religions where people spend time in the temple, after seeing people make quick offerings in ques at other temples that had no space, this place had more similarities to my own/western culture. It is a beautiful temple too, which clearly helps inspire feeling.
As there is little else but the temple in Madurai I decided to leave as quick as possible and headed down to Varkala for a few days of chilling on the beach.
Varkala is beautiful.... very touristy but that doesn't detract from the lovely walk down steps to get to the beach or the sitting on the  top of the cliff watching a lightning storm whilst eating dinner..... I was lucky to get there at the end of the season so things where cheap, it wasn't too busy and it made a great place to calm down after a week of cities.
From there I heading north to see the famous backwaters of Kerala.  Stopping of at Kollam for a night, which is a horrible town and proof that guidebooks are sometimes completely deluded, i made my way to Allepey. Allepey the town is like any other - busy..... but it has a few canals and step onto a government bus-boat for 20 minutes and suddenly you are in paradise. The canals are huge and they open onto vast lakes which are embroidered on their edges by homes and smaller canals leading to a maze of waterways and more lakes... It is so green its like looking at a fauvist painting or a photo-shopped holiday broucher. The canals are lined with coconut and many other trees.The odd chai shop or village shop or dock is dotted around ... and there are narrow paths either side of the canal running past houses. Every house has steps in front of it  down to the canal where people wash their clothes or themselves or else children stand with mini fishing rods and surprisingly successful buckets full of their catch... Needless to say most of the houses are brightly painted.
I splashed out and took a canoe boat tour of the backwaters with a few people I'-d met and it was definitely money well spent. First we were taken to our guides house near a bus-boat dock where we were given breakfast in his family home. It was a tiny place with the bathroom outside and no running water (yet, he said). His two daughters were on vacation - really sweet girls who brought water to wash our hands. I've discovered that Indian's don't seem to understand the meaning of 'i'm full'.....luckily the food was good- chickpea curry, rice and a sweet mix of dry cereal like substance on the side. Two distinct feelings come about in those kind of situations, sitting in someones house who is clearly very poor, one gets not only a surge of happiness, being on the receiving end of such kindness but also a sense of guilt- am I eating all their food?....Meeting those people, away from the tourist shops that always want to sell you things, was such a relief and an eye opener, seeing how people really live and how they treat you . I've been given food on trains and other occasions since and it seems to be a huge part of communication and life - giving and hospitality. People will give you food before asking your name. Its a sign that your welcome.... and it is difficult to refuse. Of course, everywhere you are still a white person and children still ask for money or pens, but they are also happy to show us things and talk and let me draw them..... I felt like there was a personal exchange.
   From there we jumped into two canoes and set off on a beautifully calm trip through the smaller canals, stopping for chai and a look at a really odd church. A few hours later ( which felt like no time at all) we headed back for a delicious home cooked lunch served on banana leaves before catching the ferry back into town. We saw about four kingfishers on the trip along with other birds and I have to say even before the rest of Kerala, that boat trip alone made me so so glad that I'd chosen to go to Kerala I was almost smug. The whole day was so calm that one wonders why anyone bothers living in the city.... Its not cut off; people have mobile phones, but its spacious and it feels like a healthy place to be.
Two days later, on the recommendation of a woman I met, I jumped on a seven hour bus ride to Munnar - a tea plantation in the western ghats (a mountain range)- for some cool air and walking. There I stayed in a homestay - a real bucket shower place which in the cooler nights wasn't as nearly as pleasant as earlier buckets: believe it or not, pouring a load of water on your head after walking around boiling Mumbai feels really good. However, i was given lots of tea and had the oddest feeling of nostalgia hearing linkin park boom out of the son's laptop.
On recommendation I booked a guide who took me on a lovely long walk amongst the tea plantations, off the beaten track. It was good friday which unfortunately meant there was nobody working. However, the holy day had its blessings. Anbu pointed to some tiny specks on the top of a mountain - christians praying for good friday. We decided to climb up..... So my calm walk in flip flops did have a little bit of trekking to it. The mountain at the top was so steep you had to take of your shoes to avoid slipping, and face the extremely hot burning ground.... after about an hour we reached the top and the other people sitting by a crucifix and were duly rewarded with glasses of sprite. The view was beautiful and the people friendly. I drew some of the kids and got into a long conversation with one girl (who was very upset when I said I never went to church on Good Friday). As we prepared to make our decent they invited us to eat with them- we had seen people cooking in great big pots on our way up- and we agreed.  Again it was another experience of kindness. Outside of India i might put it down to them being very religious but here it seems to just come from the people.
Me and Anbu continued trekking and after fifteen kilometers (the whole trip that is)  arrived back at his house where I met his wife and son. They live in a tiny place - just two rooms, newspaper on the ceiling, stone floor etc  The bedroom/living room also acts as a storage place with the kitchen at the back.  The son was extremely sweet (though not good at staying still as a model) and there was a small christian but indian-ised shrine full of catholic style pictures of Jesus and in the midst of poverty, a tv. It is strange to see a country develop in such a lop-sided way, where people have mobile phones but no running water.
Anbu's wife cooked a meal -  after the meal on the mountain I tried to explain that I couldn't eat much but I don't think she understood..... so yet again I ate. It was wonderful, leaving me no space for dinner and leaving me wondering if they had enough food. I can only assume that what I paid Anbu covers a lot of meals and hopefully some money to send his son to school. I see what a good father he is and how is wife will start studying to be a nurse soon.... these people live their lives working hard but with a grace and elegance we often seem to lack back home.  I should mention everyone we passed who Anbu knew and stopped to talk too were really friendly and offered me chai despite that they all lived in these government tiny houses like Anbu and I was just a passing tourist. I felt very privileged.
That night back at the home stay, as it was good friday, some friends - a few young couples including the daughters of owners and all their children had come over for a bonfire and bbq. I joined them and we swapped songs. One particular lady was very enthusiastic about Indian dance. She looked at me as thought I was depraved not to know it, and then went on a mission to show me lots of dances and teach me some simple versions whilst her husband sung classical Indian songs. We danced and sang around the fire in what turned  into a very moving evening.
Kerala is not just a beautiful place. I enjoyed me time there because I felt like I really met people in Kerala. That made all the difference between just being a tourist and having some interaction so I didn't feel so separate. The pattern continued in Cochin where I met lots of artists simply by walking into their studios and talking to them. Some were a bit crazy - Kerala is a communist state and I ended up in a long debate with an artist about how the USA has never been to the moon..... some were simply lovely and we swapped work ( or rather I need to send them some work when I get home). Some are more conceptual, some just paint, they all have the same difficulties as painters back home only probably tenfold as in India it is really uncommon to buy artwork for ones house.....
Cochin is a clean city - with real pavements and the fascinating Chinese fishing nets. However, because of Passover, the synagogue was closed for ten days which was a little disappointing. Nevertheless it was a lovely calm stop before my next big adventure..... tomorrow I fly to Delhi and then I travel northwards towards the foothills of the Himalayas. I can't believe I've been here six weeks already and at the same time I cant believe I've seen so much. So it's goodbye to the crazy humidity that makes the south unbearably hot .... and hello to the snow peaked mountains ( and possibly some warmer clothes.... ).  There were points in Pondicherry and Madurai, with the lack of anonymity and heat and chaos, when I questioned why the hell I had decided to stay another month extra. The last week has quelled my doubts, confirmed my decision and made me incredibly excited.
love
L.