How Do You Explain...

I can't figure out how to capture nine days in India in words. I mean, a country that has stores which makes these kinds of promises? You just know that you are in for good times...


So, do I tell you about getting attacked by monkeys at Galta, the Sun Temple, in Jaipur? Clearly they were used to getting their peanuts NOW ... and if you didn't give them up? Well, they'd just take them from you themselves. This is also the same place where we also saw the same monkeys bathing in the same water as local villagers (only fueling our water paranoias).


And then there was our 6am morning trip to the Taj Mahal where we watched the morning light move across the palace. Words don't do justice to this building. Or, unfortunately, to the masses of tourists also there at 6am to "beat the crowds."


Of course, I probably shouldn't tell you about how Anna and I admitted to each other on or about day 6 that we had each brushed our teeth only 2 times in the preceeding 6 days. Both of us trying as much as possible to steer clear of the infamous water-inducing "Delhi Belly." This complimented by the fact that as I went through immigration I thought, "this immigration guy needs to shower" ... only to realize seconds later that it wasn't HIM who smelled...


I'm also not sure how to describe an Indian train: 3 bunk beds high and 1 million of our closest friends. And sage advice from the Old Delhi Train Station Station Master who took us under his wing and told us, "chain your luggage to the bed." I'll defer to the picture of the toilet to describe our living quarters for 6 long hours (hint: 1 guess as to why there is a suspicious amout of light at the bottom of the toilet bowl).



Words are hard to find when thinking back on the Holi and Elephant Festivals in Jaipur. Both events of suspect origins and possibly designed to (a) lure in tourists for the latter or (b) celebrate debauchery in the former. But good times either way (even though it means that you can't catch a taxi the next day because all the drivers are "sleeping off their opium high").


Learning to navigate "lines" at train stations, stores, airports, taxi stands, hotel check-in desks, ferries, etc. etc. etc. etc.? Best captured by my face in this picture...


When we weren't studiously avoiding the water and "anything unpeeled," we were fighting off swarms of mosquitos. A disquieting fight when Anna informed me that, in fact, parts of India are malarial zones. Which left me wondering which of the 34 mosquito bites below my knees would be The One that would get me medevaced home? (This is me attempting to mummify myself while fighting off said tormentors during a really lame light show at Delhi's Red Fort.)

Maybe hardest to explain is the overwhelming mix of beauty and poverty. India is a a gorgeous country with history that captures and awes, but in the shadows of that history is a tragic present of poverty, corruption and lack of opportunity.








From this thought, however, comes words of a prophet which remind me to donate generously to fast offerings. Or to Heifer International, http://www.heifer.org/. (Pardon the shameless plug - even though Heifer isn't in India, it's a great organization.)


All said, I still lack words to describe the fabulous company. I guess, all that's left to say is next year's trip needs to include more Kearls.