Ambling through Cuttack / 20 Oct 09

Began the day visiting monastic caves carved into a hillside by Jain priests over 2000 years ago. The sun was intense despite the fact that we arrived at around 10am. We took every opportunity find respite in the shade.

Next we visited a real Bhubaneswar gem – the Museum of Tribal Art & Artifacts. Orissa is home to 13 officially designated “Primitive Tribal Groups”. I was shocked to read in the museum’s brochure that these peoples make up 22% of the state’s population. Exhibits are arranged by theme (jewelry, textiles, musical instruments, hunting, agriculture, household objects, etc) and include examples from each tribe. These tribes must be an anthropologists’ delight. In one tribe, men and women dress exactly alike even down to hairstyle. The only way to tell gender apart is by number of nose rings (women wear three; men two). In another it has become taboo for women to wear any clothes above the waist. Instead they cover their bodies with layers and layers of beaded and silver necklaces. In another, a shaman paints a beautiful protective or curative painting in white on the interior wall of the home. These paintings are so famous that facsimiles are depicted on the tribal museum’s exterior walls. I could go on and on. We were interested in buying books to tell us more about the indigenous tribes and so went to another building (the “Library and Research Center”) which was the most antiquated place I think I’ve ever seen. It was filled with stacks of paper to the ceiling and boxes of manuscripts I suppose, all yellowing and covered with dust. Four men assisted in filling out the receipt for my small purchase, in triplicate, with lots of “official” rubber stamping. It reminded me of getting a liquor permit in Gujarat.

After lunch we drove 30km to town of Cuttack, which until 50 years ago was the former capital of Orissa. It is situated between two important rivers. Because of its age and its confined footprint Cuttack has a much different feeling than the more modern sprawling town of Bhubaneswar. Its narrow winding streets and brightly colored (albeit decaying) buildings were charming. We wandered through various markets, looking in shops, some selling silver filigree and gold jewelryh, others selling brass objects, others selling food of every conceivable kind. I love seeing the barbershops, tailors with one old painted sewing machine, and the pharmacies. In other places like fabric shops the salesman sits on the floor on a cushion behind a small boxlike table. The visitor takes off their shoes before entering.

As we walked we quizzed our guide about the deities depicted everywhere, from shop banners to statues in shrines recessed in small alcoves along the streets. Hinduism has a pantheon of thousands of gods, but the most important are Brahma (the creator), Vishnu (the protector) and Shiva (the destroyer). Where it gets really complicated is that each deity has been reincarnated many many times and each time has a new name. For example Krishna is also Vishnu, but in a different reincarnation. Shiva in various incarnations has about 10 names. We are here in India during the time of a Kali festival. Kali is another form of Parvati, the wife of Shiva. (Keep in mind that Dhurga, who we heard much about in Bali, is also another form of Parvati, but a different mode.) We are learning how to identify each deity. For example Shiva is always depicted holding a trident; Vishnu a wheel; Laxmi a lotus. Ganesh, second son of Shiva, is easy since he has the body of a man but the head of an elephant.

Then almost an hour-long drive back to Bhubaneswar in thick traffic and red hazy smog. The sun is already beginning to set at 4pm these days. It seemed as if every vehicle in Bhubaneswar was on the highway at 5pm, each on a mission to get to where it was going and by any means necessary. Indian driving is exactly as everyone had described to me: no rules, everyone going whether they like, all vehicles honking incessantly. We especially liked signage on the front of local buses that use brightly colored flashing bulbs (think slot machine in Vegas).

Temple Day in Bhubaneshwar / 19 Oct 09

We’re not in Delhi anymore. Left yesterday morning to find ourselves in a new, hot and humid world. We'd been surprised that despite notices that the temperature in Delhi had been 95 degrees during our stay, we rarely felt hot. As soon as we exited the plane in Bhubaneswar we knew things had changed. Bhubaneswar is the capital of the state of Orissa and is located on the eastern coast of India.

After arrival we headed straight to the Orissa State Museum to see ancient statuary, paintings, palm leaf texts and tribal costumes. The guidebook said this was a “don’t miss” but I wasn’t prepared for the antiquated state of the building which is completely crumbling, stained and has electrical wiring hanging loose along the hallways.

Our hotel is extremely nice – a posh oasis in an otherwise modest (to put it mildly) and dusty town. Hallways ramble in all sorts of odd directions. It has six or seven different dining rooms to choose from. The pool outside my room looks like something from Las Vegas complete with a statue of mermaids spouting water.

This morning we toured five or six beautiful temples; some of the oldest in Orissa, dating back to the 7th century. We learned to tell the difference between a temple dedicated to Shiva vs Vishnu (a Shiva temple has a trident on top; a Vishnu temple, a wheel) and saw many carvings of Ganesha adorned with leaves and colorful flowers. We are all trying to learn more about the pantheon of Hindu gods and goddesses which is made more complicated by the fact that each can be reincarnated multiple times, each time with a different name.

Our local guide, Baadal (pron like “bottle”) is lovely but a challenge for me to understand. In fact everyone in Bhubaneswar is difficult to understand. Orissans speak a different language than Hindi which must make their pronunciation of English different than most other Indians. Baadal pronounces both a “v” and an “f” as a “b”, a “z” is a “j”, and a “w” as an “o”. And those are just the notes I made in my little book. I’m sure I missed a few. I listen with a kind of 10 second delay before I understand what's been said.

Bhubaneswar is home to a million people and it looked as if half of them were on the road today as we drove around. My impression of Bhubaneswar so far is of a huge, flat, gray, dusty city with clogged streets, every vehicle honking its horn. People ride motor scooters, bicycles, tuk tuks and small cars (cars a relatively rare sight) or cram together on busses or trucks. There seems to be no concern for turning according to any sort of traffic rule. You just turn and it is assumed that the oncoming vehicles will yield – and that seemed to be the case today. The same rule applies when crossing a street. We just held hands and stepped out as one and traffic slowed down enough for us to dash across. And keep in mind that cows and dogs are also meandering through traffic at the same time. It’s all pretty hair raising.

In the afternoon we visited a local market (think Chinese market crossed with 14th Street complete with plastic flip-flops and wind-up toys) plus an emporium selling ikat textiles from local towns. Late afternoon found us at a wonderful fair celebrating the goddess Kali. There are virtually no tourists here and we are the only non-Indians walking around at these markets or at temples.

Happy Diwali! (Diwali Moovariko) / 17 Oct 09

In other words, HAPPY NEW YEAR! Today was all about celebrating Delhi and the New Year on the Hindu Calendar. Having spent all of our time so far in New Delhi, we had a hankering for a visit to Old Delhi.

Vijay drove us to Chandni Chowk to visit the numerous bazaars in the area. We may as well have been transported into another world and time. Actually it is another world. Throngs of people go about their dialy life selling foods, milk, clothing items, every conceivable thing, and transporting enormous bundles on their heads including stack of bricks. Among all this carts (pulled by men) or motorscooters or autorickshaws (a two-seater conveyance with a man peddling bicycle as your motor) are trying to get through the mob. Horns of every pitch and type are honking incessantly.

As we walked, we somehow agreed to be led through the markets by a one-legged man with a crutch (Abdul), who spoke perfect English and had a soft manner. There is no way we could have walked more than a few blocks on our own in these markets without becomming hopelessly lost, so Abdul was a godsend and a necessity. We simply walked and walked and enjoyed the chaos and timelessness of it all.

Today is Diwali so it seemed as if everyone in the market was either selling or buying decorations or sweets for this evening. Yellow and saffron carnations are the flower of choice. It had not been hot in Delhi until today, I think because today the sun was shining. So after three hours of dodging (did I mention it was chaotic?) and weaving and avoiding being hit or stepping into a unidentifyable mush or worse a hole in the "sidewalk" (there is not a single flat surface to walk on in all of Chandni Chowk), we all were swooning and Abdul, who had grown up in this village, guided us back out again.

We had a quick lunck at the Kahn Market which was closing up early as shopkeepers went home to make preparations for evening and be with their families. Then we dashed back to our hotel to prepare for our own Diwali evening. The general manager of the travel outfitter for our trip, Mr. Sanjay Verman, was kind enough to invite us to his parents' home in a suburb of Delhi to join him and his family for Diwali.

It was about a 45 minute drive from the Imperial Hotel to Sanjay's home in a hyper modern suburb of Delhi. Every home in the neighborhood was decked out with lights (think Christmas) in every possible color and design. As we entered Sanjay's parents' home, small tea lights adorned the family shrine outside. Yellow and saffron flower petals lined either side of the stairs to the second floor. We entered a large living room and his entire extended family greeted us. We also saw that an altar had been set up in the middle of the living floor and a Hindu priest knelt there making preparations. Incense drifted through the air and tea lights flickered. We were presented with garlands of flowers and the priest chanted and put red bindis on each of our forheads.

Sanjay explained that the red color represents (female) energy and is also the third eye through which we can "see". We were asked to sit cross-legged on the floor with the priest to participate in a traditional Diwali ceremony which celebrates the gods Ganesha (the remover of obsticles) and Lakshmi (the goddess of wealth). I'm sure that Cliff will do a much better job of describing the ceremony than I because he was the person actually performing the rites. The priest would chant and every so often he would gesture to Cliff to gently toss flowers at either Ganesha or Lakshmi (actually the ceremony is done in its entirety once for each god), or sprinkle water in each of the four compass directions, or light a tea candle, or place food offerings in front of the gold images of each god, or light more candles. Cliff was a busy guy. And of course Sanjay interpreted the meaning of each gesture for us and helped Cliff to know when and what to do.

Then we went outside for a few minutes to set off small fireworks and light sparklers. The neighborhood sounded like a warzone because families were setting off fireworks and firecrackers at every home.

After the fireworks we went back inside and enjoyed a delicious dinner of authentic home-cooked Indian food prepared by Sanjay's mother. I loved all the dishes but my favorites were the potatoes and dahl. We left around 9 and had an hour drive back to the hotel. What a wonderful day and excellent beginning of a new year.

Mini-Diwali / 16 Oct 09

Delhi, India's capital, dates back to around 1600 but it wasn’t until 1911 that the British moved India's capital from Calcutta to Delhi. Edward Lutyens designed Delhi as a monumental and majestic city to house the British administration. After Partition in 1947 the population of Delhi exploded.

Delhi is India’s Washington DC, complete with majestic State buildings and grand boulevards. New Delhi is remarkably “un-like” what many westerners think of India; streets are clean, traffic is relatively orderly, architecture is beautiful.

We began our first full day with our traditional travel activity (no, not a massage); a bit of, well, retail therapy. First we had a delicious breakfast out on the 1911 patio before Vijay picked us up at 10. We drove to the Hauz Khas Village area and headed for two favorite shops: Ogaan for Cathy and me, and a men’s shop around the corner for Cliff. Next, to Santushti Complex to for another Ogaan location, Tulsi, Anokhi etc.

When satisfied that we’d seen everything we needed, we left to do a bit of walking in the warm, but not oppressive, afternoon haze in the Lodi Gardens, near our hotel. We expected to see nothing but rambling paths but were delighted to come upon Mughal tombs in the middle of the gardens. We watched green long-tailed parakeets flying around the tombs.

When we returned to the hotel in the very late afternoon we needed a cleanup before dinner. Energy was running low but as luck would have it the hotel had planned a “mini-Diwali” evening starting at 6pm, complete with fireworks. Perfect. I should back up to say that Diwali means ‘Festival of Lights”. The celebration occurs on Hindu New Year’s Eve, which is tomorrow night, October 17.

We found a table with a great view outside under a canopy (which turned out to be useful later on because the fireworks seemed to reign down directly over our heads). Beautiful flower petals were arranged on the ground to celebrate Diwali. Huge assortments of traditional Diwali sweets were laid out for us to sample and enjoy. I thought the sweets were wonderful because they're not at all sweet and they include unusual flavors and spices and even (HOT) peppers. Delicious.

I wonder what will be in store for us tomorrow night when we experience the real evening of Diwali in an Indian home. Stay tuned.

Photo captions: Courtney at Ogaan, Cliff in serious negotiations (ie, sharpening his pencil) over a shirt, Courtney in Lodi Garden, C&C at mini-Diwali dinner (Cathy in a gorgeous new Ogaan ensemble), and pyrotechnics at the Imperial to celebrate Diwali.

The Global Traveler; Complete with Indian Mobile Phone / 15 Oct 09

Thursday October 15th posting. I need to back up to my “lost day” of travel on Oct 14. I spent the day at the Sheraton Skyline hotel and rested. I recommend this hotel to travelers who find themselves in a similar situation. The lobby was bustling with businessmen working busily on their laptops and huddled together in small meetings. I took the bus to the terminal at 6pm and was delighted to see the brightly colored Virgin Atlantic terminal complete with large red neon WELCOME sign over the entry. When I checked in at the Upper Class (I love saying that) desk I received complicated instructions about which signs to follow to circumvent the normal security and immigration process and go through Virgin’s own private route. While the process was really the same as the normal one, the number of people going through was far fewer. Eventually one meets back up with the unwashed masses in the Duty Free shopping zone (which is pretty good at Heathrow by the way; allow extra time). I found something I’d been trying to find for eons; a special plug for the Mac to connect to electricity on the airplane. The special thing about this one is that it’s lightweight and small, unlike any other I’ve seen.

Then on to the uber special flagship Virgin Clubhouse! It took a bit of walking to find it, but when I did I wished I left the hotel earlier just to be able to hang out there and try to be as cool as this lounge is. I don’t know if my photo will convey much but suffice it to say that it looks like a cross between a mid-century modern home and the space-age house of George Jetson. Pink, purple, yellow, blue lights bathed the ceiling; people sat in swinging round Lucite chairs suspended by chains from the ceiling; I chose a more sedate Eames chair. Again the waitress service and dinner and drinks could be ordered, all free of charge. I felt like a country bumpkin who doesn’t get out much as I marveled at the enormous projection TV beaming “football” onto one wall, the spa complete with spray tanning, panels of electrical outlets disguised as armrests at many seats. I felt like I had died and gone to travelers heaven. Did I really have to catch my plane? My flight was just as nice as the previous one, but because it was much fuller, service was not quite as attentive. But I still rate the airline with high marks. I include a picture of my Upper Class cabin.

Took off at 10pm and landed in New Delhi at 11am on October 15th. The time difference between New York and Delhi is 10 ½ hours. I had been concerned that after exiting baggage claim I’d be met with a sea of swarming people none of whom were waiting for me. The reality was that it was quite organized as I exited the airport. Two rows of gentlemen waited for their pickups with neatly marked signs. I immediately saw “Spirit of India” and met my contact Raj. The driver, Vijay, who we happened to have met last year, was a welcome sight. Vijay whisked me to the hotel in about ½ an hour. As I landed I noticed thick smoke in air that the weather forecast had mentioned. But as we drove into the city I saw more blue sky. I am staying at the Imperial Hotel which a glorious place. Photos of the exterior, interior and pool are included. The entire place is fragrant with jasmine. I met Cliff and Cathy immediately as I was checking in. They had arrived at 7am and had a bit of a jump on me. They went off to walk around for the afternoon and I opted out in order to settle in and discover the hotel. I walked and walked, checked out the excellent hotel bookstore, and sat outside for a while a read and enjoyed a peaceful afternoon.

Around 4ish I happened to run into C&C again and this time Cliff was on a mission. He’d just bought a small cheap disposable phone (with prepaid minutes) to use in India because using our US cell phones to call anywhere is quite expensive (the per minute rate for my Blackberry is $2.99; that can add up quickly). His new Indian Nokia is only a few cents/minute for an international call and a couple of rupees/minute for a call within India (translation: practically free). The problem was that it hadn’t activated properly and he needed to return to the store to sort out the problem. I thought about it and decided that it might make sense for me to get one too. We will need to coordinate with our travel provider, call the driver, call restaurants, call each other if we get separated, etc. For a few bucks I’d do the same. So I went with C&C on their return visit to “the store”.

Cliff had said it was “just down the street”. We left the Imperial compound and reentered the real world of Delhi with its bustling streets, sidewalk vendors, tourist shops, tuck tucks, bicycles, cars, busses, and many honking horns. After about six very long blocks, dodging all manner of vehicles and trinket peddlers, we finally arrived at what looked like a dingy alley and Cliff said we should turn here. The alley led to similarly dingy small “shops”. We stopped at one that I would never have noticed or thought to buy from. It sold all sorts of things (in other words it was an electronics store and certainly not a mobile phone store) and in one case it had mobile phones. I won’t go into the blow by blow of what transpired but we were there until 6pm (I almost thought I’d faint from fatigue, jetlag and lack of water) getting Cliff’s phone set up and my phone activated (that’s what took most of the time) and working. What was funny and also exasperating was how many times you need to ask for something before you actually get it. We were very clear that we wanted 400 rupees of calling time on our phones. Somehow Cliff got his but after my confirming about 15 times that I wanted the same, and the man in the shop had repeatedly said 'yes yes', somehow suddenly it came time to add minutes to my phone and “there were only 200 minutes left to give out”. He promises to add the remainder to my phone tomorrow, which I’m sure will mean that I have to call him throughout the day to remind him.

It was all very funny and I suspect quite a lesson about how things work in India. We left completely exhausted and headed straight to the Imperial Bar and to a lovely restaurant in the hotel that serves pan-Asian fusion food. We were told that the restaurant took 10 years to build and the elaborate décor was a cross between Thai, Burmese and Indian. Very spectacular and I was very underdressed. We shared several delicious dishes and managed to make it out before all our heads fell into our plates.

The Bar... / 14 Oct 09

The Bar in the Upper Class Cabin of Virgin Atlantic; sorry Continental and other American carriers, Virgin puts you to shame. And do you offer "sleep suits"? I think not.

Can We Ever Be Truly Ready? On The Way to Delhi. / 13 Oct 09

Tonight (Oct 13) I leave for a month long trip to India with three dear friends, Cliff, his wife Cathy and our mutual friend Ferris. Cliff, Cathy and I (if all goes well) will meet up in New Delhi on Thursday. Ferris will join us about 10 days into our adventure. Tonight my first leg will be a flight to London (9pm, arriving 9am), then a long layover in London where I've booked a day hotel, then a flight from London to Delhi (10pm, arriving 11am).

To prepare for such a trip takes careful planning. At the end of every trip I assess my packing successes and failures; identify what should have been taken and what should have been left behind. I make detailed lists and hope they will somehow help me prepare for the next one. But despite best efforts, and despite the past three days of phased packing, I leave home today with anything but a sense of calm. In fact, I was a complete stress mess. I tried to figure out what it was that had me so unglued. I suppose it was partly the fact that I received an (erroneous) email from the airline saying that I would be flying in coach on my London to Delhi leg; an 8 hr flight; not the end of the world but agitating and something to be straightened out. And partly the fact there were still a few things left undone on the morning of departure, loose ends to be tied up, personal matters to be resolved.

And then there's the stark realization that I'm going to be away for an entire month - in India. Would I enjoy it? Would things go as we've planned? (And snivel...) Would anyone miss me while I'm gone????? I said a teary goodbye to Scott, who had had about enough of me at that point, and headed to the airport.

So as I rode to the Newark I tried to transition into a new mode, a mode of giving in to uncertainty and not being upset by unplanned interruptions. I tried to let go...to breathe.

I promise that I am not being paid by Virgin Atlantic airlines when I say that there could not possibly be a better airline to fly when you are in this state of mind. I am fortunate to be flying "Upper Class" (bless those frequent flyer points) where every desire seems to have been anticipated and addressed. First the airport "Clubhouse", where comfortable mod seating, passed hors d'oeuvres and a buffet dinner helped to pass the time until boarding. Then there is the flight. A stewardess (who liked just like Giselle Bundchen) asked if I would like a "sleep suit"? My philosophy is to accept anything offered so she delivered a thick cotton set of pajamas to me, along with whatever beverage I desired. My seat, in a little cabin, coverts into a fully reclining bed. As I explored the various buttons in my little compartment I couldn't help but notice a man across from me covering himself with his PJs and skillfully slipping his clothes off and putting on the PJs while still in his seat. Clearly this man was a modern day Houdini. I felt challenged to see if I could do the same. Suddenly the lights went down as we taxied and I scurried to extricate myself from my clothes (difficult with seatbelt on) and don my "sleep suit", without incident. It was nowhere near Houdini's technique but I got the job done. I still have one more flight to improve my skills. Later when I got up to get ready for sleep Giselle dashed over and asked if she could "make my bed and fluff up my pillow" - how could I refuse? I asked where the toilette was and she said "just past the bar". I thought she was kidding but sure enough there is a full bar with stools and colorful lighting in Upper Class. And by the way it is used; there were several men enjoying drinks at the bar when I passed by. When I returned to my seat it was fully reclined with a mattress pad, fluffy pillow and duvet (which they pronounce DOO-vet) turned down for me. I am in a cocoon. What a glorious airline. They put everyone else to shame.

We landed in London at 8:15am and I took the Hotel Hoppa bus to my day hotel (Sheraton Skyline) which I booked on line and which is extremely nice. I can stay in the room until 6pm. Perhaps best of all there's a Starbucks in the lobby and internet access in the room. I have already availed myself of both. That's the report for today. Sorry to go on so long but I'm alone and have both time and internet. Future postings will not be so long. It's 11am and I'm feeling fine. I'm on my way.