For all intensive purposes, our time in India is up. After the Maldives, we’ll pass through on our way to Nepal and then again on our way to Thailand. But even the aggregate of that time will be short and it will be mainly transitory anyhow. With India largely over, the inevitable question is “How would I rate our time here?” To answer that question, I’ll have to look back at the three objectives I had for this portion of the itinerary.

· Introduce Joylani to more of India than Delhi and Rajasthan (which she had already seen)

· Spend time in the regions that I wanted to explore more fully

· Visit and explore a few new places

Goal 1: Unlike some other countries that we’ve visited so far, I’m not writing about whether or not I like India or whether we’ll return. The fact that we’re both visiting for the second time should answer the first question and the fact that we have 10 year visas should answer the second one. Plus, I’m sure my past posts have made it clear that I fell in love with India during the six months that I lived and traveled here three years ago. When Joylani visited me back then, I showed her around Delhi for a week and then we explored Rajasthan together for a week and a half. Delhi and Rajasthan are both interesting places and quite different from one another (urban vs. rural), yet they share many similarities (ethnicity/religious makeup/language/geography/history/etc) and are both what I would call “stereotypical India” (from the western perspective).

But I think the best part of India is its ethno-religious-linguistic-geo-political-historical diversity. And I’d say that Joylani saw way more of India than she even imagined existed before. We started off with three weeks in Ladakh, a historic Buddhist kingdom nestled on the edge of the high-altitude Tibetan plateau, populated by central Asians, practicing Buddhism, and speaking Ladakhi, Hindi, or Urdu. Heading south, we spent some time in the homogenous Hindi-belt, located on the agricultural Indo-Gangetic plateau, named for its Hindi-speaking population, most of which practice Hinduism, and share in the common history of North India from the ancient Harappan (Indus Valley) Civilization through the Moghuls and British Raj. Going down the coast, we hit Goa full of Indo-Portuguese Catholics, speaking Konkan, living on the humid and jungle-covered coast, and were ruled from Lisbon for 400 of the last 450 years. Then we went to Hampi and Bangalore, on the Deccan Plateau, both of which share the Dravidian ethnicity, the Kannada language, are split between Muslim and Hindu, and can claim the rich history of the Hyderabad Sultanate. And now in Kerala, a tropical-coastal state, ethnic roots mixed between Dravidian, European, Arab, SE Asia, and anyone else that’s sailed/traded on the famed Malabar Coast for the past few millennia. They speak Malayalam, have large Hindu, Muslim, and Christian populations, and are governed by communists. And this isn’t even mentioning the smaller regions/communities we’ve passed through or the major regions we’ll be briefly visiting (Tamil Nadu and West Bengal). We’ve gone from mountain desert to tropical beaches, from fields of grains to hills covered in jungle, and tons of Buddhist monasteries, Hindu temples, Muslim mosques, and Christian cathedrals. By the end of India, we’ll have seen the four major cities and a handful of state capitols, as well as have stayed in some tiny and medium-sized villages. We’ve traveled by plane, train, metro, bus, van, jeep, car, auto-rickshaw, and bike-rickshaw. We have seen and done a ton of stuff. Its been fun to hear the things Joylani notices and learns in each new place we go, for its always fun when those closest to us enjoy the things we do. Since Ladakh, I’ve felt like my first objective of showing Joylani more of India has been met. But I knew it was complete when she quoted my dad’s oft-repeated response to people that say they don’t like a particular type of wine (“You mean you just haven’t tried a red wine you like yet”). About two weeks ago, she said to me, “If anyone tells me they don’t like India, I’m just gonna tell them they haven’t been to a part that they like yet.”

Goal 2: When I lived in Delhi three years ago, I only spent extended amounts of time in those regions within a day’s journey of the capitol (Himachal Pradesh, Uttaranchal, Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh). But having traveled all over the subcontinent and having visited most regions at least briefly, I had a couple of regions earmarked for further exploration on this trip- Ladakh and Kerala. During the few days that I had previously spent in both regions, I was both impressed and eager to explore more. On this trip, we spent our first three weeks in Ladakh and our last three in Kerala (which account for about half of our time in India). Both states were awesome and well worth the visit, although I’d have to give Ladakh’s scenery the edge over Kerala’s tropical beaches and plethora of seafood. There remains other regions/states in India that I’ve visited and would like to further explore (mainly Kashmir, Uttaranchal, and West Bengal), but I couldn’t be more pleased with our time in Ladakh and Kerala.

Goal 3: Visiting new places was a mixed bag. For Joylani, everywhere was a new place, but that’s after I screened out a lot of places not worth going. On one hand, I really like Varkala, Bangalore, and the multi-day jeep trips we took from Leh. Hampi and Khajuraho were okay, but I definitely would have skipped Orchha. By the numbers, it appears that this objective was met relatively successfully. But in hindsight, I could have stayed less time in quite a few of these places. But on the other hand, that’s the price of visiting unknown places without any onward travel plans; the price of exploration. Orchha was like the price we paid for enjoying the other new places that we liked. We could have avoided Orchha by not visiting any new places, but then we would have missed out on Bangalore and Varkala. And if I only went to the places I thought I’d like, I would’ve said we shouldn’t go to Bangalore or Hampi (both of which I did like). Plus, we don’t always like the places we think we will (I thought Orchha would be cool). India’s a huge country and there’s still a lot of places that I’d like to visit, but I was happy with seeing the new places that we did. Exploring and visiting new places is always full of surprises and I’d have to say we’ve been fortunate to “discover” more places we liked than didn’t like. Overall, I liked seeing the new places we did.

And so, there you have my evaluation of our time in India. Joylani really got to “know” India, we spent time in and explored what I consider the two coolest parts of India, and we both explored some amazing new places. Two and a half months ago, I was hoping I could say these things when we departed India, and I am. Not just that, but overall it’s been a fun and good time. We’ve seen a ton, talked a lot and learned a lot with and from each other, and it’s also been a good way to kick-off our Asia circuit with a somewhat familiar and English-speaking country. Thus, not only must I rate our time here very highly, but give plenty of thanks for how our time in India has gone.

PS. I should note that I was also going to publish a post on all the things I dislike about India, just to give a balanced picture of the place. But I’ve decided against publishing it, since most of my frustrations/criticisms are consequences of poverty and undereducation. Granted, the undereducated and impoverished make up a majority of the population, but I feel it would be more a critique of the poor/uneducated (littering, constant pushing/shoving, male immaturity, ego/cultural/ethnocentrism, caste/class problems) than a critique of India specifically. Nonetheless, do know that India is a relatively tough place to travel (in many ways) and not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but we’ve enjoyed it nonetheless.

If anything, our two-day stay in Kochi was educational. To get there, we left Bangalore early in the morning and arrived at the Ernakulum train station around five that evening, ten hours later. To get to the older, touristier part of Kochi we needed to catch a ferry. On the map in our guidebook the ferry terminal didn’t look too far away from the train station, so we decided to walk. Of course, this took longer than we expected but it was ok as it was fairly cool since the sun was setting and it gave me a chance to take in my first taste of Kerala. Just outside of the train station we spotted dozens of red flags, and drummers performing a synchronized routine—almost like an Indian version of a drumline. It was a parade advertising a political event for Kerala’s communist government. We walked on and finally arrived at the ferry terminal. Our fare was 5 rupees for both of us—what a deal! By this time it was dark out and we couldn’t really tell where we were going, but based off the other tourists on the boat, we figured we were headed the right direction. Disembarking from the boat we continued with the same logic and followed the “white folks” down the road towards the hotels. Eventually I made Matt stop to check the map in the guidebook to make sure we were heading in the right direction. Just then a man pulled up on his motorcycle.

“Do you need a room?” he asked, handing me a card for his homestay. Normally we dismiss anyone off the street who tries to show us a room because the room price will be higher to pay for his or her commission. This time though, we decided to go with him for a couple of reasons: 1.) it was his homestay (ie no commission), 2.) he quoted a fair price right away, 3.) the business card looked nice and the rooms looked clean, it pays to have a good graphic designer. Upon inspection, the room turned out to be ok and for the first time in India, we stopped looking after the first hotel. After a day of train, ferry, and walking, finding a room so easily was quite a relief.

Our brief stay in Kochi was unexpectedly educational. The first night we received a comprehensive overview of how long it took to walk around the old section of Kochi via the map on the back of the business card. Granted, it wasn’t a very big map, but our host was very thorough and enthusiastic. “Go this way to intersection, there’s two restaurants; one veg, one Italian. Don’t go here to this restaurant, they use old food…” Although his thoroughness took a little bit longer than usual to check into our room, it worked to our advantage as he helped us find a couple of activities during our stay in Kochi: the Katakali show and a backwater tour. We decided to go with the show the first night and take the backwater tour our second day, and then leave on the third for Varkala via KSRTC buses (Kerala State Road Transit Corporation).

Since the Katakali show didn’t start until 5:30pm, we had some time to kill, about a whole day. We walked around the shore area where we watched our next lesson: how a Chinese fishing net works.

One end has a big net, the other a bunch of weights (aka rocks tied to ropes and little fishermen). The nets would stay in the water for about 2-3 minutes and then the fishermen would use the lever to pull it back up, hurriedly gathering their catch before the birds ate it. Each net is basically a big seesaw made to catch fish. Actually, it’s probably more complex than that, the mechanics at all. But at least we got the basic idea down.

Finally the next educational part of our day came: it was time for Katakali. Katakali is a form of theater that intricately incorporates elements of music,  acting, costume, and religious stories.  The show actually begins before the performance with the actors putting on their make-up. It’s a pretty elaborate process, including pieces of paper that get pasted to the some of the actors’ faces.

Since I was completely unfamiliar with the art form, I didn’t know what the make-up was supposed to look like and each time they added a new color or line of dots (or for one guy a paper flower on the tip of his nose) was like adding another layer of ornaments and lights to a gaudy Christmas tree.

Crazy costumes completed the look, right done to long silver fingernail tips. Before the story began, one of the actors demonstrated some of the facial movements for the audience (all tourists; all taking lots of pictures). The actors don’t use words, so the facial and body movements are an important part of the story. Picture normal acting, and then picture it exaggerated with eyes blinking multiple times over to signify one emotion or another. If I was a little kid, between the crazy make-up and costumes together with the facial movements, I would probably be a little freaked out by the actors. The final thing we deduced from the performance was that it was an interesting experience but for our short attention spans at the end of the day, it could have been reduced to about 25 minutes—5 minutes to show the different stages of make-up, 10 minutes for the demonstration, and 10 minutes for a condensed version of the story. Three hours was just a little too long…

The next morning we woke up early to catch our bus to the starting point for our backwater tour. Our boat had no motor and was powered by two guys pushing the boat along with long poles.

The pushers walked up and down the sides of the boat pushing us along all day. They must have walked a few miles on that 15 foot strip of wood. With no motor, the ride was quiet and peaceful. We reclined in our rattan chairs and took in the scenery—lots of palm trees and lily pads.

Before lunch we made two stops to observe some of the local industries—coir making and calcium carbonate production. The coir is rope made from coconut husk.

Husk

Apron lady

Spinner lady

The outer portion of a coconut is soaked for 6 months to strengthen the husk. After this time it is easily removed from the shell and much stronger that before the aging/soaking process. Then these ladies gather it up in their aprons while spinning wheel lady does her thing. The apron ladies slowly walk backwards as the husk spins itself out of the aprons into strands of coir. The strands are then spun together to make the rope. At the coir stop we also learned what pepper looks like before it ends up on your table in a little shaker.

Pepper

As for the calcium carbonate (or something like that—it’s used for painting, purifying, pharmaceuticals…), this stuff is made from shells. Lots of little shells. They dry out the shells and then at the factory (a couple of sheds with a big furnace) they burn the shells until it become white powder. The finished product is packed up and shipped off.

Shells

Finished product

Calcium carbonate. There you have it. (Hopefully my explanation wasn’t too technical for you, feel free to email me for the dumbed-down version). After the educational part of the tour was over, we transferred over to a small canoe to explore some smaller channels as we waited for our lunch to finish cooking.

Canoe

Lunch

The “traditional Keralan meal” was tasty and filling; I think all the passengers returned to the boat very full. Due to the pushing, the boat ride was extremely slow-paced, and after a while the novelty of the scenery wasn’t so novel. The passengers put away their cameras, and everyone kicked back for a siesta during the final portion of our tour, waking up just in time to get off the boat for the bus ride back to Kochi.

The last interesting part of our stay in Kochi (besides seeing the same Korean couple that we’d seen in Hampi and Bangalore on our ferry ride and at the Katakali performace) was that we met 3 UC students. The first two we met sat behind us on the bus to the backwater tour. Upon hearing English spoken with an American accent, I immediately started to eavesdrop (it had been a while). It only took a few tidbits of information for me to deduce that they were UC students on EAP (the same program Matt studied abroad with 3 years ago). #1.) Explaining how a Guinness widget works by comparing it to “a lime soda like the ones they serve by school.” #2.) Talking about Magic Mountain, a theme park in Southern California. #3.) Discussing journals and how MLA is preferable to Chicago style, and wow, so and so’s research was SO interesting. The third tidbit was the cincher. Using my advanced dectective skills I already knew the girls behind us were college students from California, but no CSU student would talk about writing guidelines and research as enthusiastically as those two. (CSU alumi, I mean no offense by the previous sentence as I find discussing the pros and cons of Chicago vs MLA during a backwater tour of Kerala kind of strange myself.) They had to be from the UC system—UCLA and Cal to be exact. No wonder. The third UCer we met was also from Cal. Being a solo traveler with probably not much else to do besides eavesdrop (like myself at times), he honed into our American English and said hello. Matt doesn’t think to much of us meeting 3 UC students in one day (“We’re all over the place,” he says), but I thought it was kinda cool. It’s not everyday you meet three people from the same university system during your stay in Kochi.

With the exception of our weeklong excursion to Hampi and Bangalore, Joylani have spent the last month at the beach. If you’ll recall our first post from Goa, it was so great to get to the beach. And its been a great month since then. We’ve had a string of good guesthouses, mostly part of a familys’ home and mostly overlooking the beach/ocean. Our three weeks in Kerala has been a story of lazy days spent at the beach and tons of seafood. While I never once got bored or sick of the food in Calangute or Varkala, I think I’ve reached my limit here in Kovalam. I love seafood, but I’m beginning to crave non-seafood dishes. I love lounging at the beach all day without any worries, but I’m beginning to yearn for a change. Yesterday is a good example, filled with indicators that we’re ready for a change. We set off in the morning for Thiravanathapuram (for obvious reasons, it still goes by its old name of Trivandrum), to explore the state capitol and run some errands. Indicator number 1: We left the beach for the city. When we arrived, we found a cheap little hole-in-the-wall restaurant to eat breakfast. Indicator number 2: Joylani craves south Indian food (breakfasts especially) and prefers hole-in-the-wall (even with all the unsanitary conditions) places to nicer restaurants serving Westernized food (which is pretty surprising to me). Also, I get agitated if my breakfast is too bland- who would’ve ever guessed Joylani would search out dingy Indian restaurants and I would like my breakfast spicy? When we returned in the afternoon, we just hung out on our balcony rather than go swimming. Indicator number 3: When we first got the beach, we couldn’t stay out of the water. Now, we’re content to stay in the cooler indoors- Kovalam might be the hottest/most humid place we’ve been so far. The last two nights, we haven’t ordered any seafood. Indicator number 4: I’m not indulging in the thing I like most about Kerala. What’s the point of staying at the beach, if you’re not going to swim, hang out in the city during the day, and skip out on the seafood?

Luckily, we’re leaving tomorrow to celebrate our second anniversary in what I consider to be one of the best places on the globe. See you in a week!

load up the boats to cast the nets

Pull in the nets

Check out the catch

Box ‘em up

Crowds come to start buying fish

Fish

Or you go out in your boat and fish

But these boats work on the principal that wood floats, not displacing water…

Kerala’s self-proclaimed nickname is “God’s Own Country.” This is not far from the truth in a verdant state of beaches, coconut and banana plantations, and hills of coffee and tea. This green tropical state is almost how one would picture Eden. Yet, its goodness extends far beyond its natural beauty. Those familiar with Kerala know that it’s a picture of what India could be. Independence in 1947 merged three states (two independent, plus the British-ruled province of Malabar) into present day Kerala, based on linguistic lines (Kerala is the only state that speaks Malayalam). Although many people give credit to the mainly-Italian missionaries that settled here, at the time of Independence, Kerala was much like the rest of India. In 1947, literacy in Kerala was marginally higher than the rest of India; today it boasts a 98% literacy rate, compared with 65% for the rest of India (approximately 50% for females and 75% for males). Life expectancy in Kerala is 74 years, a full 10 years more than the Indian national average. The educational system, anti-upper-caste movements, and a history of matrilineal societies have also helped Kerala avoid many social problems. The female-male ratio is 1.06 (same as western countries), compared to .93 in the rest of male-dominated female-subjugated India. Kerala is ahead of even China in many educational and health statistics, while India uniformly lags behind its neighbor across the board (except for civil rights issues, of course). In fact, China could probably learn from Kerala, where education is credited with reducing the fertility rate from the Indian national average of 3.0 to 1.9 (below that of even China). Studies have actually shown that education is better at reducing family size than coercive measures. It is widely known that Kerala has one of two communist governments in Kerala. Right-wingers always credit the missionaries for Kerala’s development, while statistics show that radical left policies have worked at curing problems here. The flipside is, of course, that economic development is behind the Indian average and many Keralan’s go abroad to find work (mainly the Middle East), which accounts for the unrivaled amount of money that flows into the state from foreign remittances. And so Kerala is a model of successful left-wing-policies being implemented in India, and it poses an interesting question: social well-being or economic growth? It seems that in a nation where 850 million are close to starving, Kerala’s prioritization of welfare is worth looking at.

Much of the information here is from The Argumentative Indian, by Amrtya Sen. It is the best book I’ve ever read on India and highly recommend it to anyone wanting to learn about India, whether you were born and raised here or don’t know a thing about India.

We’ve been in Varkala for nearly 10 days now and haven’t written anything. So let me update you on all the big things that have transpired in the meanwhile. We’ve spent the majority of our time hanging out on our balcony overlooking the ocean, at one of two beaches, or at a variety of restaurants (also overlooking the ocean). Glad I got all that out of the way. Now that you’re up-to-date on past week and a half, here’s a few of my random thoughts from our time here:

My Favorite Things About Varkala: My very favorite thing about Varkala is all the fresh seafood. Most of our evenings consist of walking along the cliff, browsing each restaurants’ selection of seafood. Every restaurant has a table out front displaying fresh fish, fresh crabs, sometimes live lobster (sometimes cooked already- eccckk), calamari, and fresh prawns of all sizes. Joylani doesn’t like smelling or seeing the fish, nor does she like the sales process and haggling. But I love it and have eaten fish all but one night here

Luckily, we both like fresh young coconut. There’s a guy at one of the beaches that sells coconuts for .25 USD. We sometimes buy one, which he chops open and sticks a straw in for us. When we’re finished with the juice, we just take it back to him he’ll cut it into thirds and chop a sliver off the outside to use as a spoon. I stress that it’s a young coconut, because the juice is the sweetest and the meat the softest (Joylani says its like jelly) I’ve ever had- its even better than the Thai/Vietnamese young coconut beverages you can buy in the US. Of course, we both like the ocean too. We’re the products of California. The beaches are small, but the water is warm and clear. We also have nice views of the ocean from our balcony and all the restaurants we eat at. I’ve never really seen big waves from above before, but today I noticed how cool they look as they curl forward; a smooth-surfaced cylinder of clear green-tinted water rotating around a bunch of foam and bubbles. The last thing I like is the inability to distinguish the horizon in the mornings and evenings. In the mornings, the foggy coastal haze and the low angle of the sun turns both the sky and consequently the water the same grey color. The color, combined with the aforementioned haze in the distance, makes the horizon and disctiction between sea and sky disappear. At night, the sky and water are completely dark (our stay coincided with a new moon), obliterating any indications of a horizon, except one. Every night, we can see a straight line of dots across the darkness; small fishing boats demarcating the straight horizon.

Morning View

Night View

Worst Parts About Coastal India: We spent eight nights in Goa and will spend a total of two and a half weeks in Kerala, but there are a few annoying things. One is that, like most nice beach areas around the world, its really touristy. Luckily we’re catching both Goa and Kerala just before the tourist season, but its still geared towards tourists. Like I mentioned Joylani dreads looking for dinner because of all the chatty restaurateurs. But I don’t like shopkeepers trying to get my attention and sell me their junk every second either. I’ve heard enough “please, looking” and “yes, sir” and “just take a look” to last me a lifetime. Annoyance number two is that it’s HOT. Goa and here have both been in the hundreds daily, with nights usually in the mid-eighties. Goa was way more humid, so the heat was more difficult to escape. Even the rain there only cooled things down temporarily- it could be a hundred degrees again 10 minutes after the rain stopped. The humidity also caused us other problems, like our clothes not drying and mold beginning to grow on the outside of my backpack. Keralan heat seems to be mostly just from the sun. Luckily, our balcony and most of the places we eat have a roof. The others and the beach have umbrellas, so the heat hasn’t been too bad.

My Pre-disposition to Laziness: Okay so I began this post by saying that we’ve been here for a week and pretty much haven’t done anything. On one hand, I want to be productive; I’d like to catch up on emails to friends/family, find a place to volunteer, work on my writing/photography. But hanging out on the beach eating my coconut or lounging in a sand-floored restaurant reading a book for an entire afternoon is so much more enticing. After a week and a half of doing nothing, you’d think we’d get bored, but we haven’t. We’re actually content. Joylani said it feels like vacation, although I don’t know from what. At home, I’m usually pretty focused and if I have a goal, I’ll work hard to achieve it. Some even accuse me of workaholism. But being here has shown me the opposite side of my personality.

Our Goals for this Trip: I guess its appropriate to follow up “My Predisposition to Laziness” with “Our Goals for this Trip.” We haven’t really explicitly talked about this, but it seems like in order to feel like we didn’t “waste” our time abroad, we each have things we’d like to do. For Joylani, it’s volunteering. I don’t think it matters too much what we do exactly, as long as we volunteer somewhere and help out. My main goal on this trip is to see and ultimately learn more about the world, which isn’t the most quantifiable goal. But I’d feel somewhat wasteful if I didn’t at least finish up the two writing projects I’m working on, as well as come up with some creative ways to display/disseminate my photography (as my photography improves, of course). Whether we accomplish these things or not probably won’t make a big difference when we look back on our trip in the coming years, but it’d be nice to at least have done some things besides just travel and sightsee our way around the globe.

Staying Thankful/Appreciative: Sitting on BART on my way to work, I used to sometimes daydream of this trip, the places we’d go, the things we’d see, what we’d do, and who we’d meet. The workday or workweek stretching in front of me would give my daydreams value, in a sense. At the beginning of this trip, it was easy to contrast the fun we were having with the worst workdays I could remember. I’d think, “Wow, a month ago I was miserable sitting in a cubicle eight hours a day and today I spent eight hours enjoying the best of Paris with my wife.” On a philosophical note, this implies of course, that part of my appreciation is the knowledge of and comparison to worse circumstances. We’re still seeing and doing amazing things and still enjoying the trip, but I doubt I have the same appreciation for it as I did months ago. I also doubt that I’m appreciating it as much now as I will in the years to come. When you’re doing exactly what you want and the memories/thoughts of less desirable circumstances have faded, how do you maintain that level of thankfulness? Is it out of reach, only to be realized over time? I don’t have an answer. Its not that I’m not appreciative and thankful, it’s just that I don’t feel it’s nearly as intense as it was or will be. I think it’s sometimes just hard to appreciate good times when you’re living them, which goes along with the saying, “You don’t know what you have until you lose it.” Anyhow, I’m trying to stay as appreciative and thankful as I can.

By the way, Varkala is great!

Do you ever pray or hope for something even though you know the likelihood of it happening is slim or that it’s just a trivial request—something that would be nice but it’s ok if it doesn’t happen? Matt and I arrived at Varkala Beach after a longer than expected 3-bus journey. We ordered a meal at the first restaurant we came to and discussed finding a room. “All I want is a place that is clean, no mold, no bugs, hot water, fresh white sheets, a balcony and a good view.” I said, prepping Matt for the upcoming room search. “We can get a room like that. It just costs money.” he responded. More than our budget allowed, I knew, not to mention the fact that finding a room with all those features could be tough. We laughed and finished up our meal. Little did we know what was in store for us. Balcony. Ocean view. Clean; no mold. No bugs. Hot water (we don’t even have to turn it on). And, not just clean sheets, but clean, white sheets. Yet all for only 200 rupees, or $5 a night. Awesome! Thanks God!

The fishermen came twice. The first time there were two of them, each holding one end of a cloth wrapped around a bundle of fish and crabs.  They laid it out on the ground for the housewife to inspect.  Ten minutes later another one came.  He balanced a large metal pot on his head.  Smiling, he waited for the housewife to come out of her house.  He took the pot down to show her the day’s catch.  They exchanged greetings and she picked a few fish for dinner.  The pot was lifted back on his head and he happily walked off to his next stop.  A short while later a man rode up on a bicycle.  A large milk container was strapped to the rack in the back.  He too waited for the housewife to come out.  Then he filled a jug with some fresh milk which she then transferred to her own container.  Leg up and over the bike, and he rode down the driveway to follow the fishermen to his next stop.

Three Months and Counting…

We’ve been on the road for just over three months now. That’s 13 countries, 32 different beds, 9 nights on the road, and close to 300 meals eaten from someone else’s kitchen. There are still at least 9 months to go, 10+ countries, 1,200 more meals, and I hate to think about how many more times I’ll have to pack my backpack as we move to yet another hotel. The destinations aren’t so bad though. We’ve seen the Eiffel Tower, the Hermitage, Alps, the Acropolis, the Aya Sofia, Himalayas…snow, desert, jungle, ocean, mountains…without a doubt it has been a good trip so far, but it has not been without some tough moments. About a month and a half in, I realized that long-term travel isn’t what I prefer. Traveling for three or four weeks at a time is my preference. Unfortunately, by the time I realized this, Matt and I had already quit our jobs, terminated the lease on our apartment, doled out furniture to friends and family, and packed the rest of our belongings into our parent’s garages.

It is not that I wish I hadn’t agreed to this trip. And I knew before hand I would miss home, family and friends, routine. That was predictable, but I also knew I had no way of knowing how experiencing those feelings in the context of continually being on the road would actually be. So how does it feel? It feels conflicting. At the same time that I would rather be home eating food from Trader Joe’s as I wait for my laundry to come out of the dryer than face the planned duration of our trip, I quickly dismiss the thought of skipping out on the countries Matt and I have dreamed of visiting. I love traveling and am enjoying the places we go. We have been blessed with an amazing opportunity and the time and youthfulness to take advantage of it.

On India
Two of our months on the road have been in India. I can’t say that India is my favorite country I’ve been to, but it definitely has been interesting. As we go from state to state, each place we visit has its own distinct flavor, almost as if we’ve gone to another country rather than just another part of India. The cities, towns, and villages we have been are so different from the others, and not just in landscape and geographic location. Hopefully you’ve been able to pick-up from our posts that each stop on our itinerary has had a distinctive combination of ethnicity, religion, language, architecture, attire, industry, cuisine, weather, the craziness (or as some fellow travelers put it, the “bizzaro world” factor). As my father-in-law says of red wine, “You just haven’t tried one you like yet.” If you find India completely disagreeable, it’s not that you don’t like India; you just haven’t been to a part you like yet. And that’s why, despite the troubles we’ve encountered in health, transportation, lodging, etc. and despite the deeply entrenched social problems—sanitation, litter, poverty—I can say we’ve had a good time in India.

India is mind boggling on so many levels, and I am truly glad to have had the opportunity to see what I have. There is simply no comparison to reading about India or just seeing pictures. Some things can be captured in a photo: a child’s sweet face, the beauty of a mountain, a piece of an ancient temple. But even a professional photographer’s work can’t truly convey a toddler’s ramblings, the grandness of being swallowed in the Himalayas, or the warm breeze blowing through temple columns as it did 500 years before.  India may have a pomegranate’s pulp of problems, but it is filled with sweet jewels in every nook and cranny.

Insightful moms
Adjustments are a necessity when traveling. These are manifested in various ways from changing one’s behavior (wearing culturally appropriate attire); picking up new habits (brushing teeth with bottled water); and shifting perspectives (what is noisy?). Habits and behavioral changes are easiest to pick out. It could be as simple as putting on sunscreen everyday before going out because you are so close to the equator and the sun is freaking HOT. But some adjustments (such as a change in perspective) can sneak up on you, and it’s not until someone else points it out that you realize how you’ve adapted. Moms are great for this purpose. After going on a bit of a phone hiatus in Leh, once we got back to Delhi, Matt and I were able to talk with each of our moms. I like moms because they know the right questions to ask, they fill you in on what’s going on at home, and they’re always a little concerned about something. It always feels nice to know that someone is concerned for your well being, doesn’t it? On top of all that, moms are insightful. At least ours are. J

Matt’s mom called us on our cell while we were walking on a side street from the internet café back to our hotel. It was relatively quiet compared to earlier in the day, but there was still a little background noise.

Matt’s mom: “Where ARE you? Is that someone honking?”

Matt: “Uh, just walking to the hotel, I think someone honked down the street.”

Matt’s mom: “That is the most background noise I’ve ever heard!”

Matt: “Uh…”

Matt’s mom: “You are in a crazy place and don’t even know it anymore!”

Always insightful, she definitely had a point. Our perception on things has definitely changed. Noise. Privacy. Hotel and facility standards. Wardrobe. Wore the shirt yesterday? Does it smell? Just a little? It’s ok to wear it again because you’re just going to sweat anyway.

Talking with my mom brought up the same insight. After catching up on the usual stuff with my mom, she marveled at how I had been able to survive thus far with the bug and toilet conditions over the past month in the mountains. I agreed that it was amazing to me too, but pointed out that I had help from my “Potty Guard,” aka Matt, who stood as the lookout during bathroom breaks on our bus and jeep rides through the mountains. She laughed and responded, “I guess you just develop a different sense of privacy.” That’s for sure. In the states I would never even think about going outside of a gas station, especially with people nearby. In the mountains in India, well, that’s another matter. As for the bugs, I do what I can to avoid them, but there’s only so much I can do, and I simply have had to accept it. It is much easier to laugh in hindsight than to be regularly overcome by my phobias. Don’t get me wrong, I still hate bugs, but I’ve had to toughen up on how I deal with them and adapt my responses to the reality at hand.

A shift in perspectives is necessary to survive in a different place. A change in perspective is often followed by a change in expectations. For example, if I had the same point of view as I do at home on cleanliness I would hardly ever eat out on the road, and most likely would obsessively limit myself to eating packaged crackers and bananas. Similarly, my expectations for hotel lodging have changed too. Small cockroaches don’t mean you have to switch rooms. All the hotels on the street probably have them anyways. Getting “used to” a place or lifestyle is in many ways a result of this change in perspectives and expectations. Adapting to a new environment doesn’t just happen when you go to a new country. It happens at home all the time on a micro-level as one adjusts to different contexts. For example, office norms (suits, low voices, communication highly valued) are a world away from the norms in the bleachers at a Giants game (ball caps, spitting, shouting, “Off the phone!”—communication with outsiders looked down upon). Or consider someone in a bathing suit. This attire is acceptable for the beach, but a little trashy for the classroom. These small contextual adjustments we make can be easily identified, yet we don’t really think about them too much as they are happening. This is because we’re used to them. Likewise, Matt and I have become used to the way things happen on the road. The weather, culture, a civilization’s habits aren’t going to change so much as the way you see them changes. Not that I am the master of this, and my periodic tire of travel is in part due to the places where I am unable to sufficiently shift my perspective to the place I am in.

Sometimes I wonder what we’ll be like when I get home. Will I have an urge to hang a clothesline indoors and wash cloths in the sink? Will I eat with my hands before going for a fork? Will I jaywalk on busy streets, making my way through oncoming traffic like Frogger? Probably not. I’m sure I’ll revert back. But I am glad to have people like moms to help notice changes along the way so that I can appreciate the cultural differences and norms that have developed in different places, and even in myself, out of the basic need to simply survive.

Looking Ahead
Over the next three months we plan to continue our journey in three countries with vastly different cuisine, culture, and terrain. Stay turned for the continuing adventures of the HomelessHapas in the Maldives, Nepal, and Thailand!

South Asia refers to the eight current countries that once fell within the vicinity of the British Raj: Pakistan, India, Maldives, Sri Lanka, Bhutan, Nepal, Bangladesh, and Myanmar. Today, nearly all are embroiled in turmoil of some sort. Having lived in and visited three south Asian countries before, I was looking forward to further exploring the region on this trip. Unfortunately, for our plans and the residents of many of these countries, political instability across south Asia has increased dramatically since we began our trip in early July. Although Joylani was hesitant about visiting many of these countries before our trip began, the wave of turmoil and violence currently sweeping across south Asia is disappointing for me as we’re continually crossing countries off our itinerary. Below is a breakdown of all eight south Asian countries, the current events going on, and why we are/aren’t heading there. My motivation for this post is two-fold. One, to update our families on where we’re headed (we get a lot of emails from family saying to beware of this or that region). And two, to practice my writing by summarizing and disseminating news from a region in turmoil (which doesn’t get much US news coverage because south Asia is neither western nor has oil). Here we go (from West to East):

Pakistan: The two main problems in Pakistan right now are Islamic extremism and political turmoil. Long a haven to Islamic militants, al-Qaeda and the Taliban operate freely in Pakistan’s western and northern frontiers. Traditionally, there’s been an implicit agreement between these groups and the government to leave each other alone. Within the past year or two though the two sides have begun fighting; the Islamic militants attacking and capturing/kidnapping Pakistani military personnel and carrying out bombings/kidnappings in major cities, while the military government has begun cracking down on urban members of the religious Right and bombing mountainous al-Qaeda/Taliban hideouts. The result is that the danger once confined to the frontier border regions is expanding into Pakistani cities. The other problem Pakistan faces is that of its military dictator, Musharraf. Since his coup in 1999, he’s enjoyed lukewarm support domestically and American political and financial (estimated at nearly $40b) in exchange for “supporting” the war on terror (although any evidence of this support is weak). Recently though, he’s come under immense pressure from the Supreme Court, the educated Left and the religious Right. This week, he just won another term as president, although his rivals Bhutto and Sharif are in exile, there was a massive boycott of the elections, and the constitutionality of running for a third-term and being simultaneously head of state and head of the military is being debated by the SC. Thus riots, rallies, and the resulting crackdowns are happening every week now. Despite being listed as a terrorist-haven in the 9/11 report, I had entertained thoughts of visiting Pakistan, especially when I found out my buddy Hasan would likely be visiting this winter. However, with the recent political/civil unrest, daily news of riots, and the new fear that Mush will impose martial law to quell it all, Joylani and I have decided we’ll have to see Karachi, Lahore, and Islamabad some other time.