Digest
The weeks have flown past, and India continues to delight and disgust (in equal measure only in retrospect). Daily, I find myself reeling from one or the other. A few days ago I was reveling in a sea of elephants, the day after I managed to use my pepper spray on one of India's most famous National holidays- Holi. More on that later.
Hampi
Hampi is gifted by the nearby 600 year-old ruins of Vijayanagar, a World Heritage site. Set among lush green fields and boulders, it is a natural wonder, and natural that tourists would flock there. I enjoyed the sites, and the Tungabhadra river, but something happens with places like this- they attract people taking vacations. Many people vacationing (I contrast this with "traveling"), have 1 or 2 weeks during which they rush through monuments and temples wearing shorts and tank tops and snapping photos indiscriminately. Indians dress very conservatively- long pants and button-front shirts for men and saris or other traditional clothing for women. Tourists are most respected when they wear the same, but in the least they ought to stay well-covered. Hampi is one of the places that has lost some of it's character and charm and things will be worse in the coming years. A new federal tax plan has set-up 5 year tax-free periods for 3 and 4 star hotels at sites like this throughout India. Take a look at the best parts...
Bijapur
After leaving Hampi I was headed for Mumbai, and stopped for a couple days in the medium-sized Bijapur. In most cases, the smallest things can make a place feel good, and I have not found in myself a preference for small or quaint towns. There must be something about first impressions here in India. In any case, I liked this place. It is dirty and dusty, but walkable and friendly. There were no tourists to be seen and I found a decent room quickly for 150 rupees (USD $3.75). At dusk I took a nice walk through a narrow market wedged and winding between buildings in the busy city center.
The next morning I headed out for the monument Ibrahim Rouza and met another tourist at a small restaurant. Ryan and I spent hours at the site chatting about world politics, India, Thailand, love, and other unforgettable/forgettable things. We had a late lunch in a dark bar where half a dozen scattered men stared at mostly me. I would have never gone into a place like that alone. It was strange but nice. We also had a goat curry- I had not had meat in several weeks.
When I walked to the bus stand the day I left I saw a medicine man who divined with a scorpion and that cozy little monkey family I posted recently.
Mumbai
My only reason for stopping here was to make the journey to the Gujarat less of a headache. Mumbai is busy, bustling, full of the poor that support the network, or the upper crust who thrive off its riches. It is big and exciting and depressing and missable. The best part was staying at a hospital- but only as a guest of a resident doctor! I was not a patient.
Ahmedabad and Beyond
From Mumbai I traveled to Ahmedabad, the capital of Gujarat. I spent a couple days in the congested city. It is noisy, crowded, spread out and bipolar, with dirt roads creeping onto their chrome-new modern counterparts. Nothing stays clean for long in India. The best parts of any city always, always involve wandering...
I then headed to Kapadvanj where my "family" live. Please see this post in my former Asia blog about them. The journey by bus from Ahmedabad was only a couple hours but I was nervous and jittery. Part of me worried that that they would no longer live there, and part of me knew this was not remotely possible. When I arrived at the bus station I jumped in an auto rickshaw. Minutes later, turning down one of the dirt lanes in their "society" (like a subdivision or village within a town), I saw Milu- Hitendra and Rama's daughter. When the rickshaw approached her I saw her eyes widen and she called out "Maya!?" I pulled her into the open car with me and we were seconds away from her house. No one was home, but other people from the society started coming out of their houses. Milu ran to get her mother, and a neighbor called Hitendra, who was at work. Someone put a mobile to my ear and I heard Hitendra speaking Gujarati. "Maya!??" "Hello" I said. "Maya WALDMAN?"
I stayed with them one week, and during this time we went to nearby Anand where Hitendra's neice was getting married. I got both my hands and forearms done up with mendhi.
We went to Anand, the "Milk Capital of India" (home of Asia's largest dairy), for the festivities, and I had a nice afternoon with residents of a small shantytown...
This guy takes care of the little temple on the grounds. After I was introduced to him I made a small donation of ten rupees (USD $0.25) very quietly. I didn't want anyone to see, but he was confused by the paper I folded into his palm, unwrapped it with a confused look and promptly showed everyone!
It was hard leaving Kapadvanj, and all my friends... On my last day a few of the boys gave me a surprise:
Hampi
Hampi is gifted by the nearby 600 year-old ruins of Vijayanagar, a World Heritage site. Set among lush green fields and boulders, it is a natural wonder, and natural that tourists would flock there. I enjoyed the sites, and the Tungabhadra river, but something happens with places like this- they attract people taking vacations. Many people vacationing (I contrast this with "traveling"), have 1 or 2 weeks during which they rush through monuments and temples wearing shorts and tank tops and snapping photos indiscriminately. Indians dress very conservatively- long pants and button-front shirts for men and saris or other traditional clothing for women. Tourists are most respected when they wear the same, but in the least they ought to stay well-covered. Hampi is one of the places that has lost some of it's character and charm and things will be worse in the coming years. A new federal tax plan has set-up 5 year tax-free periods for 3 and 4 star hotels at sites like this throughout India. Take a look at the best parts...
Bijapur
After leaving Hampi I was headed for Mumbai, and stopped for a couple days in the medium-sized Bijapur. In most cases, the smallest things can make a place feel good, and I have not found in myself a preference for small or quaint towns. There must be something about first impressions here in India. In any case, I liked this place. It is dirty and dusty, but walkable and friendly. There were no tourists to be seen and I found a decent room quickly for 150 rupees (USD $3.75). At dusk I took a nice walk through a narrow market wedged and winding between buildings in the busy city center.
The next morning I headed out for the monument Ibrahim Rouza and met another tourist at a small restaurant. Ryan and I spent hours at the site chatting about world politics, India, Thailand, love, and other unforgettable/forgettable things. We had a late lunch in a dark bar where half a dozen scattered men stared at mostly me. I would have never gone into a place like that alone. It was strange but nice. We also had a goat curry- I had not had meat in several weeks.
When I walked to the bus stand the day I left I saw a medicine man who divined with a scorpion and that cozy little monkey family I posted recently.
Mumbai
My only reason for stopping here was to make the journey to the Gujarat less of a headache. Mumbai is busy, bustling, full of the poor that support the network, or the upper crust who thrive off its riches. It is big and exciting and depressing and missable. The best part was staying at a hospital- but only as a guest of a resident doctor! I was not a patient.
Ahmedabad and Beyond
From Mumbai I traveled to Ahmedabad, the capital of Gujarat. I spent a couple days in the congested city. It is noisy, crowded, spread out and bipolar, with dirt roads creeping onto their chrome-new modern counterparts. Nothing stays clean for long in India. The best parts of any city always, always involve wandering...
I then headed to Kapadvanj where my "family" live. Please see this post in my former Asia blog about them. The journey by bus from Ahmedabad was only a couple hours but I was nervous and jittery. Part of me worried that that they would no longer live there, and part of me knew this was not remotely possible. When I arrived at the bus station I jumped in an auto rickshaw. Minutes later, turning down one of the dirt lanes in their "society" (like a subdivision or village within a town), I saw Milu- Hitendra and Rama's daughter. When the rickshaw approached her I saw her eyes widen and she called out "Maya!?" I pulled her into the open car with me and we were seconds away from her house. No one was home, but other people from the society started coming out of their houses. Milu ran to get her mother, and a neighbor called Hitendra, who was at work. Someone put a mobile to my ear and I heard Hitendra speaking Gujarati. "Maya!??" "Hello" I said. "Maya WALDMAN?"
I stayed with them one week, and during this time we went to nearby Anand where Hitendra's neice was getting married. I got both my hands and forearms done up with mendhi.
We went to Anand, the "Milk Capital of India" (home of Asia's largest dairy), for the festivities, and I had a nice afternoon with residents of a small shantytown...
This guy takes care of the little temple on the grounds. After I was introduced to him I made a small donation of ten rupees (USD $0.25) very quietly. I didn't want anyone to see, but he was confused by the paper I folded into his palm, unwrapped it with a confused look and promptly showed everyone!
It was hard leaving Kapadvanj, and all my friends... On my last day a few of the boys gave me a surprise:
posted by Maya at 12:29 PM
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