Factiod #1: Indian men link pinkies just because they are friends. No sexual orientation implied! Women, on the other hand, do not.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
fyi - brotherly love
Factiod #1: Indian men link pinkies just because they are friends. No sexual orientation implied! Women, on the other hand, do not.
another strike, strattled
Well wouldn't it be just our luck to encounter the indefinite strike of the Ghorka people as we are trying to leave Sikkim. The Ghorkas are a group Nepali migrants that have been living in the Darjeeling hill area for around 30 years. While Darjeeling is technically within the state of West Bengal, residents think of it as an independent entity. And rightfully so, the culture is incredibly different there. These people were protesting in their demand to declare the area its own state, independent from West Bengal. Which is, obviously, not going to happen any time soon.
This whole strike was a problem for us because the activists had shut down the one and only highway that connects the state of Sikkim to the rest of India. So there was no way out until the Ghorkas said go. Besides the fact that this way an annoyance for me and that I spent five days caught up in this strike business, it was fascinating to see how the residents reacted. They really didn't seem to mind. Shutting down this highway is essentially cuts off their lifeline, forcing them to ration food, petrol, water, etc. And yet everyone is so used to this kind of political activity that the 'wait it out' method is really all they can do.
After being trapped, so to speak, in Sikkim for a few days, we had to assess our options. One was taking a helicopter out of the capital city for about $60. But the waiting list was two weeks long. We could also wait amongst the throngs of people at the government bus station to get on one of the 12 buses that were being permitted to leave town. Or we could walk to the border and beg/bargain with the border police to let us through. People were even talking about making the 120km trek to Siliguri, where they would be out of the strike's perameters, on foot. And being a tourist didn't really grant us any preferential treatment.
Luckily, the Ghorka movement granted a 12-hour period of 'relaxation' for the highways in order for vehicles to come and go from Sikkim. But 12-hours only! We woke up at the crack of dawn to ensure that we would be in one of those vehicles and by the time we arrived at Siliguri, people were literally shoving us out of the car to secure their own places for the ride back.
After all was said and done it was pretty cool to drive through these strike areas and see everything shut down. Such solidarity! I have to admit that I really respect their ability to stage such ruckus. In the U.S., we so rarely stick together and protest against the things that we so frequently get angry about. I think the difference is one of belief. Too often, our opinions exist independently of our beliefs and therefore our efforts to reform have no gumption. We have a lot to learn from you Ghorkas!
This whole strike was a problem for us because the activists had shut down the one and only highway that connects the state of Sikkim to the rest of India. So there was no way out until the Ghorkas said go. Besides the fact that this way an annoyance for me and that I spent five days caught up in this strike business, it was fascinating to see how the residents reacted. They really didn't seem to mind. Shutting down this highway is essentially cuts off their lifeline, forcing them to ration food, petrol, water, etc. And yet everyone is so used to this kind of political activity that the 'wait it out' method is really all they can do.
After being trapped, so to speak, in Sikkim for a few days, we had to assess our options. One was taking a helicopter out of the capital city for about $60. But the waiting list was two weeks long. We could also wait amongst the throngs of people at the government bus station to get on one of the 12 buses that were being permitted to leave town. Or we could walk to the border and beg/bargain with the border police to let us through. People were even talking about making the 120km trek to Siliguri, where they would be out of the strike's perameters, on foot. And being a tourist didn't really grant us any preferential treatment.
Luckily, the Ghorka movement granted a 12-hour period of 'relaxation' for the highways in order for vehicles to come and go from Sikkim. But 12-hours only! We woke up at the crack of dawn to ensure that we would be in one of those vehicles and by the time we arrived at Siliguri, people were literally shoving us out of the car to secure their own places for the ride back.
After all was said and done it was pretty cool to drive through these strike areas and see everything shut down. Such solidarity! I have to admit that I really respect their ability to stage such ruckus. In the U.S., we so rarely stick together and protest against the things that we so frequently get angry about. I think the difference is one of belief. Too often, our opinions exist independently of our beliefs and therefore our efforts to reform have no gumption. We have a lot to learn from you Ghorkas!
Saturday, July 25, 2009
welcome to india
Crossing the border from Nepal to India went like this. The Nepali visa officers greeted us with smiles and said it was a shame that we had to leave so soon. Then we crossed over to India and the Indian visa officer wasn't there to stamp our passports. We waited for him for twenty minutes and when he finally arrived to do his job he was drunk. Welcome back!!
Our first move was up to the beautiful state of Sikkim, which was actually an independent kingdom until 1975 when it merged with India. Although they enjoy Indian statehood, ask any of the Sikkemese people and they will tell you that they don't consider themselves Indian at all. Judging by the special tourist permit that you need to get to enter the state, their government has taken special measures to let tourists know that.
Unfortunately, my first few hours in Gangtok, the provincial capital of Sikkim, were panicked. Jack, my travel buddy, got some serious food poisoning that had him in and out of consciousness. So we went to the emergency room - what a trip! It was not so dirty that you had to worry whether or not the needles were clean. BUT they didn't even have the time to diagnose him before they shot him up with painkillers. I was pretty nervous the whole time and so I was looking up all these mysterious medicines on my phone to see what they were. One of them was a painkiller intended for the digestive system - good. But intended to be used on horses - BAD. Medical waste out in the open, no bandaids. I mean, it wasn't horrible but when the nurse gave him a shot and asked me to rub it (with my dirty hands) my hyper-sterile, Western nature cringed.
But it is always a lesson. What was interesting about the visit to the hospital was that the service was free - but the drugs were not. Right across the street from the hospital was the pharmacy where the patients' chaperons are meant to go buy the prescriptions and walk them back to hospital. In other words, if you could not afford the medicine, it seemed like all the nurses could do was put you on a drip and let you stay on a cot, or on the floor, until you felt better. And judging by the patronage of the emergency room, there were plenty of people camping out just in case they went into critical condition.
Our first move was up to the beautiful state of Sikkim, which was actually an independent kingdom until 1975 when it merged with India. Although they enjoy Indian statehood, ask any of the Sikkemese people and they will tell you that they don't consider themselves Indian at all. Judging by the special tourist permit that you need to get to enter the state, their government has taken special measures to let tourists know that.
Unfortunately, my first few hours in Gangtok, the provincial capital of Sikkim, were panicked. Jack, my travel buddy, got some serious food poisoning that had him in and out of consciousness. So we went to the emergency room - what a trip! It was not so dirty that you had to worry whether or not the needles were clean. BUT they didn't even have the time to diagnose him before they shot him up with painkillers. I was pretty nervous the whole time and so I was looking up all these mysterious medicines on my phone to see what they were. One of them was a painkiller intended for the digestive system - good. But intended to be used on horses - BAD. Medical waste out in the open, no bandaids. I mean, it wasn't horrible but when the nurse gave him a shot and asked me to rub it (with my dirty hands) my hyper-sterile, Western nature cringed.
But it is always a lesson. What was interesting about the visit to the hospital was that the service was free - but the drugs were not. Right across the street from the hospital was the pharmacy where the patients' chaperons are meant to go buy the prescriptions and walk them back to hospital. In other words, if you could not afford the medicine, it seemed like all the nurses could do was put you on a drip and let you stay on a cot, or on the floor, until you felt better. And judging by the patronage of the emergency room, there were plenty of people camping out just in case they went into critical condition.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
i need a reward for leaving this country
Leaving Nepal. Well. I just. Man, I had some difficulties is what I am trying to say!! Our initial plan was to go back to Kathmandu and renew our visas to stay a bit longer (avoiding India, perhaps?) but decided against it when the price to renew was a full $60! So we got on the bus ride from hell instead.
There was an evil man, who kept making fun of us, making the whole bus laugh, and looking down my shirt. The driver was a madman, rip roaring down the mountains and it took us about 5 hours longer than we had anticipated. But the thing that was really getting under my skin was that the bus kept stopping for all the men to get out and take a bathroom break, but not for the women. If it were socially acceptable for women to use the side of the road also, this wouldn't bother me. But the fact that we were all expected to just wait it out completely infuriated me. What? You think you can look down my shirt for hours on end and then not give me the courtesy of a bathroom? Hell no. Sitting in the very rear of the bus where we were jumping like fleas at every pot hole wasn't helping my mood either. Nor was the fact that the whole bus was watching us hold on to the seats for dear life like it was a spectator sport. At the next pit stop, I said 'screw you all' and went to the bathroom right alongside all the other men on the bus. If I thought I had some staring problems before....
In retrospect, I recognize that my actions were coming from a negative, vengeful place and they really only served to perpetuate stereotypes of Western women. I guess when people treat you like you are the stereotype so consistently, it makes you want to give up the fight and just be it. That's immature, I know. But secretly, I sure hope everyone on that bus saw it. I have the right to the side of that road too!
There was an evil man, who kept making fun of us, making the whole bus laugh, and looking down my shirt. The driver was a madman, rip roaring down the mountains and it took us about 5 hours longer than we had anticipated. But the thing that was really getting under my skin was that the bus kept stopping for all the men to get out and take a bathroom break, but not for the women. If it were socially acceptable for women to use the side of the road also, this wouldn't bother me. But the fact that we were all expected to just wait it out completely infuriated me. What? You think you can look down my shirt for hours on end and then not give me the courtesy of a bathroom? Hell no. Sitting in the very rear of the bus where we were jumping like fleas at every pot hole wasn't helping my mood either. Nor was the fact that the whole bus was watching us hold on to the seats for dear life like it was a spectator sport. At the next pit stop, I said 'screw you all' and went to the bathroom right alongside all the other men on the bus. If I thought I had some staring problems before....
In retrospect, I recognize that my actions were coming from a negative, vengeful place and they really only served to perpetuate stereotypes of Western women. I guess when people treat you like you are the stereotype so consistently, it makes you want to give up the fight and just be it. That's immature, I know. But secretly, I sure hope everyone on that bus saw it. I have the right to the side of that road too!
on the road again oohwoohoo
There are certain things that you absolutely must do. One of those things is nature stuff that involves sweating, hiking, biking....etc. So after a sad goodbye to Mel, who had to return to New York for her job training, Jack and I continued north to Pokhara. The town sits picturesque on a lake ringed with rice fields. I'm still curious about how they keep track of which rice field belongs to who because there are dozens of them separated only by thin, grass boundaries. They are so beautiful though the way they are even etched into the mountainsides. And people haul ass up there with their cows even in the pouring rain.
Pokhara is beautiful, but the center of town is quite the tourist ghetto. Even during the low-season, there were too many white people there for comfort! We had a nasty scene in our first hotel room because when we went to bed, we discovered there were dozens of cockroaches under our bed - we ran out of that room at 10pm with the hotel manager swatting at a roach the size of my middle finger. And, I have never been offered so many drugs in my life. While the penalty for drugs is way harsh in Nepal, people were pretty openly selling, buying, and smoking hash. Now, of course, there is nothing wrong with smoking hash. But I couldn't help but wonder what kind of affect this business could be having on the local community. If it is technically illegal, the trade is forced underground and surely dangerous to be involved in. And I can't imagine what kind of perception they must have of foreigners to offer a woman drugs so casually. They would literally yell what they were selling from down the street! When I walked out of a store once and a man as old as my grandfather offered me drugs I knew, rightly - no hash for me!
I did partake in some nature-business, although not without some trouble. We did a four hour hike up a mountain to the World Peace Pagoda, which was incredible! I am not all that into hiking, but the gratification that awaits the top of a mountain is undeniable! Less strenuous was a lot of nice biking around the lake. The rain was pretty on and off, so we got soaked. But that's all in good fun! Biking also gave us the chance to get away from the touristy areas in order to see some real-life. And as it turns out, people don't like tourists all that much! Ha, imagine that! One restaurant we went to actually denied us service. Not formally, of course. But we asked for food and while they were serving a bunch of other Nepali people, they told us that they didn't have any food. Hmmm. As frustrating as that is, sometimes I just have to accept that when I'm in someone else's country they have the right to do that kind of thing. Which, as an American, seems crazy-I don't think of my city or country belongs to anyone in particular. To each country, their own.
Pokhara is beautiful, but the center of town is quite the tourist ghetto. Even during the low-season, there were too many white people there for comfort! We had a nasty scene in our first hotel room because when we went to bed, we discovered there were dozens of cockroaches under our bed - we ran out of that room at 10pm with the hotel manager swatting at a roach the size of my middle finger. And, I have never been offered so many drugs in my life. While the penalty for drugs is way harsh in Nepal, people were pretty openly selling, buying, and smoking hash. Now, of course, there is nothing wrong with smoking hash. But I couldn't help but wonder what kind of affect this business could be having on the local community. If it is technically illegal, the trade is forced underground and surely dangerous to be involved in. And I can't imagine what kind of perception they must have of foreigners to offer a woman drugs so casually. They would literally yell what they were selling from down the street! When I walked out of a store once and a man as old as my grandfather offered me drugs I knew, rightly - no hash for me!
I did partake in some nature-business, although not without some trouble. We did a four hour hike up a mountain to the World Peace Pagoda, which was incredible! I am not all that into hiking, but the gratification that awaits the top of a mountain is undeniable! Less strenuous was a lot of nice biking around the lake. The rain was pretty on and off, so we got soaked. But that's all in good fun! Biking also gave us the chance to get away from the touristy areas in order to see some real-life. And as it turns out, people don't like tourists all that much! Ha, imagine that! One restaurant we went to actually denied us service. Not formally, of course. But we asked for food and while they were serving a bunch of other Nepali people, they told us that they didn't have any food. Hmmm. As frustrating as that is, sometimes I just have to accept that when I'm in someone else's country they have the right to do that kind of thing. Which, as an American, seems crazy-I don't think of my city or country belongs to anyone in particular. To each country, their own.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
on the top of the bus?
Leaving Kathmandu was so fun!!! The city is really incredible, very cosmopolitan and affluent. But the nature in Nepal is something else. We took a short bus ride out to the mountains in Nagarkot and stayed in a grody, moldy hotel room. Three to a bed. And had a blast. The best part was coming back into town and riding on the roof of the bus through the twists and turns of the mountain. Ahhh. At first, I was holding on for dear life. But the fact is, riding those buses is no safe from the inside. There are no rails on the edge of the cliffs and the drivers speed up and down the mountains like hellfire. Well, if I am going to fear for my life, I am at least going to enjoy a nice view! And its cheaper.
I had the most unpleasant, but useful conversation with a Ukrainian girl on the top of the bus. Her first remark after hearing that I was from the U.S. was. "You know there are two kinds of people the world hates: Chinese and Americans" Now, now, now. I know that the world has a poor impression of my country. And honestly, I know better than most the failures of the American way. But I have never felt so defensive about it. I am now traveling with an Australian, so I am kind of own my own as far as defending America goes. My god. I am the worst candidate for that job. But what I really have a hard time with is this idea that people around the world, by and large, don't make a distinction between me and the actions of "my" government. On one hand, it's frustrating that these people can't see the humanity that exists behind every government. But what is even worse, is that that Americans do so little to redeem our country. You don't meet too many Americans out here. But those that I have met, have been by and large, rude and obnoxious. They define the stereotype of Americans. And make it even harder for me to dispel some of the misconceptions of that country that voted Bush in two times in a row.
Although it sounds damn cheesy, the only thing I can do with people who tell me to my face that my country sucks- that it is evil and ruining mankind- is be patient with them. To hear them out and attempt to have a real conversation about is to project an air of diplomacy that our country desperately needs. Because it makes a difference, if I am the only American the meet in the next year - they are going to remember how I carried myself. I had a man rip me on the Iraq War today and I just nodded my head and tried to be in agreement. In most cases, that's the best I can do. Trying to explain my own gripes with the American government is more than broken English can handle! Being in a situation where people are immediately judging you for your nationality is pretty humbling. I have something to prove here. So if you were wondering - I didn't throw that Ukrainian girl off the top of that bus.
I had the most unpleasant, but useful conversation with a Ukrainian girl on the top of the bus. Her first remark after hearing that I was from the U.S. was. "You know there are two kinds of people the world hates: Chinese and Americans" Now, now, now. I know that the world has a poor impression of my country. And honestly, I know better than most the failures of the American way. But I have never felt so defensive about it. I am now traveling with an Australian, so I am kind of own my own as far as defending America goes. My god. I am the worst candidate for that job. But what I really have a hard time with is this idea that people around the world, by and large, don't make a distinction between me and the actions of "my" government. On one hand, it's frustrating that these people can't see the humanity that exists behind every government. But what is even worse, is that that Americans do so little to redeem our country. You don't meet too many Americans out here. But those that I have met, have been by and large, rude and obnoxious. They define the stereotype of Americans. And make it even harder for me to dispel some of the misconceptions of that country that voted Bush in two times in a row.
Although it sounds damn cheesy, the only thing I can do with people who tell me to my face that my country sucks- that it is evil and ruining mankind- is be patient with them. To hear them out and attempt to have a real conversation about is to project an air of diplomacy that our country desperately needs. Because it makes a difference, if I am the only American the meet in the next year - they are going to remember how I carried myself. I had a man rip me on the Iraq War today and I just nodded my head and tried to be in agreement. In most cases, that's the best I can do. Trying to explain my own gripes with the American government is more than broken English can handle! Being in a situation where people are immediately judging you for your nationality is pretty humbling. I have something to prove here. So if you were wondering - I didn't throw that Ukrainian girl off the top of that bus.
Monday, July 20, 2009
kathmandu for beginners
After MUCH deliberation, we finally decided to make the trip over to Nepal. It was so close, we could almost touch it and so the risk of going at a somewhat turbulent time faded away in light of how incredible the idea of Nepal sounded. To make a long, drawn out conflict seem incredibly simple, the problem in Nepal right now is that Maoist activists have been calling state-wide strikes in order to pressure the new government into installing a Maoist leader as the head of the military. Otherwise known as a bandh, the strikes literally shut down all the stores, keep cars off the streets, and butcher any tourists hope of keeping a schedule. We booked our tickets to Nepal thinking that by the time we got there, the whole situation would have blown over - it didn't.
The day before we arrived there was a bandh that had the Youth Communist League rolling burning tires through the streets and beating up drivers and shop owners that failed to comply with their demonstration.
Well it is a good thing that the media does blow things out of proportion! We decided to go anyways and were totally blown away by how calm the vibes of Kathmandu were. What we realized pretty immediately was that strikes are just a very normal part of Nepali culture and politics. It's hard to understand that things are pretty much safe because they ask passengers to get off the bus before the burn it.
For a country that has been so fraught with violence and political turmoil, the country has a ton of tourist ghettos. The first night in Kathmandu, the taxi drivers nearly insisted that we stay in the tourist district of Thamel. Where he would be sure to get a commission and where everything is five times the price. During the low-tourist season this tourist ghetto is especially eerie because there are an overwhelming number of tour operators and curio shops, but hardly any tourists.
One of the biggest differences between my experience in Nepal and India is that while the Nepalis are absolutely welcoming and gracious - they do NOT stare at you. That must have something to do with the population difference. There are just so many people in India that the concept of privacy is very, very different. Staring or taking pictures without someone's permission is obviously not taboo in a country where people wash themselves in the street.
But there are similar tourist traps. On our first night, we were approached by a mother and her two daughters, who at first seemed like they really just wanted to practice their English. But then they started inviting us to their house. We agreed to go to their house in the morning...
So we go their house (a short walk from the city center brought us to the more outer-district of Kathmandu. Their house was incredible. It was made out of just metal sheets posted together. I can't even imagine how it stands up during the monsoon!! We had just gone to hang out, but they were all about impressing up. After the ritual cup of chai, they made sure to let us know that they had converted to Christianity and invited us to pray with them. Or sing with them really for about five minutes! It was so surreal to see these people so sincerely feeling Jesus in a land where I have really only seen Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism. They explained that they converted after they left their alcoholic father and a Christian church in Kathmandu took them under their wing.
Don't get me wrong, these people were not malicious at all. We were having a great time until we started walking around town and the kids started asking us to buy them things with an urgency that made us think they had ulterior motives. We left them pretty abruptly after we started to get uncomfortable. I feel pretty bad about it, actually. Inviting us into their home was so generous of them and I really wish that we had been able to leave with the impression that people could just be that nice with no strings attached. But that is so rarely the case, even in my own world.
The day before we arrived there was a bandh that had the Youth Communist League rolling burning tires through the streets and beating up drivers and shop owners that failed to comply with their demonstration.
Well it is a good thing that the media does blow things out of proportion! We decided to go anyways and were totally blown away by how calm the vibes of Kathmandu were. What we realized pretty immediately was that strikes are just a very normal part of Nepali culture and politics. It's hard to understand that things are pretty much safe because they ask passengers to get off the bus before the burn it.
For a country that has been so fraught with violence and political turmoil, the country has a ton of tourist ghettos. The first night in Kathmandu, the taxi drivers nearly insisted that we stay in the tourist district of Thamel. Where he would be sure to get a commission and where everything is five times the price. During the low-tourist season this tourist ghetto is especially eerie because there are an overwhelming number of tour operators and curio shops, but hardly any tourists.
One of the biggest differences between my experience in Nepal and India is that while the Nepalis are absolutely welcoming and gracious - they do NOT stare at you. That must have something to do with the population difference. There are just so many people in India that the concept of privacy is very, very different. Staring or taking pictures without someone's permission is obviously not taboo in a country where people wash themselves in the street.
But there are similar tourist traps. On our first night, we were approached by a mother and her two daughters, who at first seemed like they really just wanted to practice their English. But then they started inviting us to their house. We agreed to go to their house in the morning...
So we go their house (a short walk from the city center brought us to the more outer-district of Kathmandu. Their house was incredible. It was made out of just metal sheets posted together. I can't even imagine how it stands up during the monsoon!! We had just gone to hang out, but they were all about impressing up. After the ritual cup of chai, they made sure to let us know that they had converted to Christianity and invited us to pray with them. Or sing with them really for about five minutes! It was so surreal to see these people so sincerely feeling Jesus in a land where I have really only seen Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism. They explained that they converted after they left their alcoholic father and a Christian church in Kathmandu took them under their wing.
Don't get me wrong, these people were not malicious at all. We were having a great time until we started walking around town and the kids started asking us to buy them things with an urgency that made us think they had ulterior motives. We left them pretty abruptly after we started to get uncomfortable. I feel pretty bad about it, actually. Inviting us into their home was so generous of them and I really wish that we had been able to leave with the impression that people could just be that nice with no strings attached. But that is so rarely the case, even in my own world.
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