Friday, December 15, 2006

all good


this is a flower.

There was some important meeting going on
outside so Zane, Micha, Nick and I chose to stay inside
and watch.

DO NOT accept food from Jews, especially at Sedar.
The train station told me it was poison.

I just got word that I'll be going to Nasik on the 18th to take part in a 5 day yoga and music course. Then, on the 12th to 22nd of January there's 4am free yoga at the fair ground in Jalgaon. Staying busy and Indian.
By far the best thing that's happened to me recently is English teaching. Every morning at 10, an hour and a half before their regular school begins, my class of 20 smiling boys and girls files into the room and waits obidiently for my lesson. The kids pay attention to me like they would any dancing and pantomiming teenage foreigner but respect me like a teacher when it comes to exams and coming to class on time. I spend my evenings preparing lesson plans (I'm in need of a good beginner English book, not written in Hindi) In the morning I have to cycle over a 1km "bathroom field" with my colored chalk and graded papers on board.
I teach at a public Mahrati medium high school to a mix of 7th and 8th graders. Mahrati medium is synonomous with poor person's school, so I am actually providing the students with a service they wouldn't otherwise have. Of course, I probably get the greatest benefit out of it. It gives my life in Jalgaon some meaning and keeps me busy in a helpful way.

Expect a better written and more interesting entry in the next few days. Posted by Picasa

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

seaside


Chinese fishing nets in Cochin (God of Small Things)


This colorful scattering of boats are all post-tsunami
replacements. The best night on the south tour was the midnight
escape from the hotel, swimming at this beach and helping fishermen
pull their boats ashore. Amazingly heavy.

Heavy fog at Dola Vida Peak above the
Munnar tea plantations. Posted by Picasa

another taste


large elephant=large breakfast

tea plantation hiking in Munnar

house boat in Kerela. A canal of tourists, but relaxing
all the same. I jumped from the top into the water and landed
on a dead snake. Not so romantic anymore, is it? Posted by Picasa

more


2 week old Asian elephants. I named the one on the
left Marco. We were playing for about an hour.

Scene from the best train ride of my
life in Ooty. !50 year-old small guage railroad.
And a cup of tea.

Statue workshop in tourist and fishing town,
Mahabalipurum. Tourism is the only thing
that brought the village back to life after the
Tsunami virtually destroyed it. Lots of foreigners
there are doing volunteer work. Posted by Picasa

Stone Temples in Hassan


I left the colors as they were in this one. 1500 years old.

Half of this temple was religious carvings and the
other half was cultural, with dancers, musicians, children.

This temple was never finished. 12th
century muslim invaders tend to change
local priorities... Posted by Picasa

few days before south tour


Part of my four hour have-to-stay-warm
morning walk in Pune was seeing the sun
rise. Thanks for not letting me register early, OSHO.

Detail of door at Little Taj in Aurangabad. Daaamn!

At Dultabad fort in Aurangabad this man's only
job was to use his slingshot against the monkeys to
keep them away from tourists. Admittedly, those
monkeys were scary aggressive. Posted by Picasa

Monday, December 04, 2006

Patience Children

I spent 40 minutes yesterday uploading photos that never made it to the blog. The Internet in Jalgaon is actually steam powered, so depending on the initial temperature of the water the "broadband" isn't always fast enough to accomplish things. We'll try again tomorrow. Until then, enjoy this yarn from the last moments of my South Tour as I waited for a train in Mumbai.

[As written on hotel paper in a letter to a friend]

"How did Dan come across such classy, classy paper?", you wonder. This sheet of half baby elephant tusk, half diamond and half pearl is strictly the stuff of high rollers-- true. Unfortunately in India white skin is as good as power, fame and a billion dollars; enough to let me sneak into a world of fancy paper and too much money.

My relatively new lifelong friend Adam and I strutted through the front doors of the internationally acclaimed Taj Hotel with overstuffed backpacks and scuzzy clothes. We weren't wearing shoes at the time as part of our goal of living cheaply and like most Indians. Also, not wearing shoes for days on end is the definition of freedom. But I digress.

The Taj employees opened doors wherever we walked, smiling that you're-rich-and-I-work-for-you ass-kissy smile. As Adam and I pored over a lunch menu far beyond our spending power a pretty blonde woman in a hotel uniform handed me a free newspaper wrapped in what I could only guess was unicorn hair.

When we walked by the 2nd inner courtyard swimming pool Adam noticed an unattended poolside lunch on a charming wicker table.

"If you're going to do something do it right," I reminded him. He gave an affirmative nod. The next moment we mustered the nerve to sit at some actual hotel goers table and feast like there was no tomorrow.

Though helped by the fact that it was free and I was excited, the chocolate and mocha cake with Cadbury Dairymilk shavings on top was coincidentally the greatest piece of cake in history. I ate slowly--the way it was meant to be done-- and with a nervous eye to the door, ready to scatter when the real people came.

Somehow Adam and I enjoyed our 10 minutes of delicious fantasy/blatant theft uninterrupted. Adam swiped an exceptionally crumbly piece of French bread for the walk out. When we passed someone who looked like money Adam chomped down with fervor, letting crumbs plummet to the Persian rug and reminding the on-looker that there's no escaping smart-ass kids trying to destroy the atmosphere of an all too clean and quiet hotel. That is, if they were the sort of on-looker who's put off by fallen crumbs at a five star locale.

The rest of my India trip has not been spent in such luxury..."


I'm making Rotary proud one day at a time. Remember: it's a crime if you get caught and a good story if you make it out the door.