Hi.. My apologies for the empty e-mail. I tried to type it in MS word and cut and paste, but I guess that did not succeed. I just retyped a section and lost it again. So right now I am a bit frustrated... classic Indian Experience.. Having to work for our experience. Nothing comes easy. So here it goes again. Let’s see.

We had an initially overwhelming experience in Delhi when we arrived. We had been warned by friends, especially about the arrival at the airport. So luckily we had our transportation to the hotel all arranges and did not need to worry about haggling with taxis or being brought to mysterious places. However, when we arrived at the hotel we had numerous "porters", then several boys bringing us necessities, all expecting tips (which we were not used to in Thailand).

The next day we had a Tour of Delhi arranged through our hotel. We were glad not to be driving ourselves – the "creativity" of the driving is entertaining, buses, rickshaws, cars, pedestrians, venders and even cows are all part of the mix. Our guide was somewhat helpful at the initial sites in guiding us through the moray of offers for tours, souvenirs, beggars, etc. We really liked Hunyman’s Tomb. As some of you may know it is supposed to have been an inspiration for the Taj Mahal, and they have been doing quite some work on it, and I anticipate in a few years it will be even more striking. With two walls and gardens surrounding it, it was quiet – also few people. The dome and decorative work in the doorways and windows was beautiful. I befriended a little boy who had hurt himself poking in a ditch with a big stick. Since he spoke English, he and I went hand and hand to find his mom – counting stairs along the way. His mom was Egyptian, married to an American. They were stationed in Delhi for a few months. We talked as we walked out, and the little boy interjected with stories about mosquitoes, dolphins, sharks and his Indian school. Our last stop was to be the Red Fort, however we got stuck in traffic due to a student demonstration. The driver and guide dismissed this as "student politics," but the size of the crowd, and the amount of orange flags waving indicated this was no small endeavor. When we arrived at the fort it was closed. By this time the light was starting to fade, and the glow of the red wall was stunning. However, when we stepped out of the car... we were engulfed with requests for money, to buy souvenirs, or just plain questions.. "Miss, sir... where you from? Miss look.. very nice...buy" And unfortunately our guide was not much help. Any time we stopped to look at anything we were encircled. We did not see a single other tourist or white person there, or as we walked through a market in the old city on the way to the Mosque. It was hard because we both found ourselves limiting what we looked at, not making eye contact, etc. It was also a bit of an odd feeling being "ushered places," being stared at and people wanting our pictures taken with them. Peter commented about how, I wonder if this is what it feels like when you are a celebrity. Hmmm. I didn’t mind the staring and photo taking. since we are curious about them, but the requests and begging are difficult. Also the Miss feels odd. The driver, the beggars, the staff, etc all calls us "Miss, Sir." It has a real flavor of the colonialist/imperialist past. So it is difficult to be confronted with that from everywhere. That and the fact that we began to feel like walking wallets. So that night we returned to the hotel exhausted. Luckily the restaurant at the hotel had excellent food and we soothed ourselves in excellent food... ach.. the lassies, naan and vegetarian dishes.

The next morning we were ready to head out, and rose early before it was light. The streets were already busy with people wrapped in dark shawls, and occaisional fires on the streets gave a rather omminous atmosphere. The train station was again.. and "adventure." We received all kinds of unsollicited "help" that was rarely accurate..."Miss, Sir.. I know..let me show you." Agian we had been warned and eventually managed ot get a ticket and get on a train headed in the direction we wanted. Now we laugh about it, but at the time it was overwhelming and annoying.

Since then we have grown more accustomed to the staring, feeling like a walking wallet, and saying no. The price of our history and background. We have been so struck that India truly is a land of extremes. ... poverty, trash, sickness, intrusion, while almost simultaneously displaying dramatic beauty, color like I’ve never seen before, decadence, and surprising acts of kindness. We’ve talked about how India is definitely less accessible to tourists – less organized, less clean, more glitches, longer distances. Yet as a result we’ve been forced to take more time and have more direct contact with the people and places around us and felt more IN India. There is something about it all that we’ve agreed makes it probably the most memorable of the countries we’ve visited.

For example, last night we finally were able to catch a night train to Jaipur. We had four hours wait at the train station. But our bus driver had gone out of his way to drop us off at the train station, un-elicited, and despite his full bus, thereby saving us having to negotiate a rickshaw or taxi drive from the other side of town. While waiting at the station, several men struck up conversation with Peter, with occasional glances at me. (for once he chatted more than me J .) He received tutorials in the status of Pepsi and coke in India, the history of Punjab, and English role in state tensions, punctuated with hand gestures and head wiggles.

Also, We (well probably more so me) were nervous about the train. Because it was in sleeper class.. where there are three bunks above one another, and no pillows, sheets, and curtains are provided. We had been told stories of lots of staring by men, and also been told to buy locks and chains for our bags. We bought the chains, and I slept with my hat pulled over my eyes. (I guess the childhood adage of if I can’t see them, I am safe... still is quite powerful J ). During the night Peter had befriended several off-duty policemen returning from Kashmir. They spoke briefly of "terrorists" and mentioned the temple, but were more interested in finding out about earning potential in the US and Europe. Peter’s turn to deliver a tutorial on exchange rate and cost of living. Although this did not appear to deter their ideas of becoming a taxi driver in the US or Europe. I woke to eyes watching me and smiles., and everyone awake, except Peter. Right away one of the men gave me the set of keys to our suitcase. Apparently, they had fallen out of Peter’s pocket during the night! I had to smile about our earlier paranoia. We spent the next several hours talking with them and playing a form of Rummy on a blanket balanced between our knees. They bought us Chai and taught us all the Hindi phrases necessary for playing cards – throw away, go, yes, no... good! (Their particular pronunciation of no has been helpful in turning away the rickshaw drivers and beggars in Jaipur). We gave them our cough medicine and shared our India Today magazine. But again... we would’ve missed all of this traveling in the cozy 2nd class, 2 tier, A/C car.

The train rides themselves have taken us through beautiful country sides. Some lush, others I am suprised to see anything growing or living there yet.. there it is. Hay stacks, terraced land, people transporting wares on/with anything and everything - camels, bikes, wheelbarrow, or balanced on their back and heads. You also get glimpses of clothing hanging to dry on every possible surface, and manure patties drying in neat rows. All the while you see people gathered working, playing or sleeping. Or even more frequently you see people talking - Squatting in circles, sitting on string beds, or walking in groups.. with an occaissional tinkle of laughter making it in the window as you go by. Groups of school girls, and boys in their uniforms, women with their young ones asleep in their arms, men waiting for a shave, boys playing cricket.. I am struck that one is rarely alone in India. Although, I have a feeling loneliness is a whole nother matter. Anyway ..

Let me send this and see if it works... Hope you are all well...

Love Patricia and Peter

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