Back in Delhi after our travels in the South

From Margo:
Back in Delhi after our travels in the South; we 7 have landed "home."

We've come to measure the level of air pollution by the blackness of our nose hairs; and Mumbai (formerly Bombay) is significantly cleaner than Delhi, but not nearly so clear as the seaside resort of Varkala. Our three nights by the Arabian Sea were heaven. From our room balcony, the Sea spread out below us framed by palm trees and bougainvillea. We enjoyed our dinners with the warm breeze from the breaking waves and the sand beneath our feet: king prawns for a king's ransom and giant squid for a song. Kingfisher, illegal alchohol, wrapped discretely in a wet napkin, fooled everyone. Not. Coke/Diet Coke is banned in the Communist state of Kerala, but you can get it if you really try.

Ayruvedic massage (aruy: life; vedic: knowledge) is a specialty in the South so we had to book the 3-day package, of course. Greg and Margo got oil drops in noses, ears, eyes and smoke waved into our sinuses. Then came the full-body aruyvedic oil rub down while laid out on a slab of a convex black wooden table with brass handholds in case you were about to slither off.

Kalli got her own massage, a 45-minute herbal/flower facial--after her arm's length henna.

Then a tough day of relaxing on the beach.









The beach is disconcertingly separated by a long yellow rope line and a government security guard who keeps all the Indians on the north end and the whites on the south end. A select few of the Indians are allowed to pass through, but if even a nice-looking family in traditional dress tries to settle in to a beach spot, it is waved on over to the north end. One exception, an Indian family of four in western dress is allowed to stay. They all wade out into the surf, only knee-deep, and jump the waves for a bit. The woman breaks away for a bit to lie down in six inches of water and let the waves wash over her fully-clothed body.


Mumbai, capital city of the just northern state of Marahastra, is halfway back up the western coast from Kerala as we work our way back to Delhi. We marveled at the intricate patchwork of tin roofs of the slums that spread right up to the airport runways. Particularly striking is their contrast with the skyscrapers that announce the city's success as home to India's stock exchange and the Bollywoood film industry.

We stayed at a hotel that is walking distance from the Gateway to India and in the late afternoon shadow of the spectacular Taj Mahal Hotel. The Taj was bulit when the Tata family was shut out of a "white's only" hotel. It's now considered one of the finest in Asia while the offending establishment became dilapidated and closed down. Dana's colleague, Wipula, took us to lunch at Trishna tucked away down the street from the oldest synagogue in Mumbai.

Remarkably, this is the very restaurant the NYTimes Johnny Apple noted as one of the 10 best in the WORLD. We lost the article and despaired of ever finding the place. And there we were! The crab, lady fish and butter chicken were succulent, rich and fabulous. Greg is again on Cipro so Margo has to eat his share and again split a huge Kingfisher beer with Dana. Tough duty. Kalli patiently listens to all our talk of trafficking young girls in India and Wipula's work rescuing, educating and rehabilitating them in an effort to reintegrate them into society. We also hear the tragic, and perhaps all too typical story of Wipula's family's relocations during the 1947 Partition. As wealthy Hindus in now-Pakistan, they left everything in the dead of night and fled to Delhi. Uprooted a second time, again with only clothes on their backs, they eventually established in Mumbai and are flourishing.


(Bob and Robert have gone off exploring on their own, unable to sit through yet another big meal. Wimps. Reid is back at the hotel after puking his guts out at the impressive Victorian Gothic train station we visited in the morning.)


We have tea at the Taj and watch the boats negotiate for space in the harbor.




Then, to the streets for shopping along the Colaba Causeway. The feel here is so different from Delhi. The streets are wider and tree-lined with parks and fountains breaking the massive dominance of government buildings, the University campus and clock towers and elegant galleries.

Jaipur Journal in 30 seconds

A River Drives through it. traffic unlike anything you can imagine, flowing all in one motion, no one stops, ]no one bumps, everyone honks, no intersections, no lights, a random of rickshaws, a Mosaic of motorcycles, a waste of cars all getting as close to each other as possible to keep things moving. The only rules, watch each other and stay moving. After you get used to it, it is the only way to travel.
New Friend Harish takes us to "lac" --remember that from Nigel's tour? -- shop and bangles are made fr Kalli. go to village textiles with Harish and buy fabrics and shirts and suits and scarves. Best deal? who knows? it was fun and Harish treats us like royalty -- drives us all over town. takes us to Raj Mandir , the biggest Bollywood cinema in INDIA where we see classic Bollywood movie. Hindi? no matter... not too hard to figure out.
Reid is sick first day, Greg is sick all that night, hits the Cipro and pulls out of it. Kalli sick next day from malaria pills. Margo stops taking the pills and is our guinea pig...
Jantar Mantar astronomy park is fantastic, built in 1738 and tells time to within 2 seconds by sundial, plots zodiac, angle of sun, location of stars, eclipses, monsoons, weddings.
Two prices in Jaipiur -- 1) Don't Worry. 2) No Problem
Elephants at work, wind palace for the harem to peel out onto the street, spice shop slipper shop incense shop. Reid riding on back of Harish's cycle thru mad traffic. Ayuvedic massage.
Jaipur -- we love it
Working elephant
Reid hits the steeet in Jaipur
Dyeing cloth at Harish's sister's shop
Men sewing at the shop
The Spice dealer
Harish and Margo
Traffic in Jaipur
The Jantar Mantar park and sundial
The Palace of wind --viewing quarters for the Harem
The slipper shop

Qutib Minar -- 16th Century Muslim "Axis pole"

Reid, Kalli, Margo and Robert fischer
Detail
4th Century iron "flagpole" for Vishnu and arch
Arch detail
What do you mean don't turn around?

The Baha'I Temple -- The Lotus temple

This is for my mom and sister who are Baha'i's. the Delhi temple is beautiful and was packed with people....this was Kalli's favorite stop today
waiting in line to get in
The Lotus temple
Workers on the Lotus
Greg with Lotus hat
View upon leaving the Temple
View when you turn around

Xmas and the day after-- Seeing Delhi

Looking for Humayan's tomb

Izn Kahn's Tomb, Delhi
Izn Kahn's mosque, Delhi
Approach to Humayan's tomb (precursor to anmd model for Taj Mahal)
Next entrway to Humayan's tomb
Archway view of Humayan's tomb
And Here's Humayan's Tomb

Christmas Day
If its Christmas, it must be Delhi
People at play in the Lodhi Gardens

REID AND BOB AT THE LODHI GARDENS

Christmas Day in Delhi

For the first time in memory, the kids did not wake us for early Xmas gift opening. (tear...)We gathered around the Xmas tree around noon and opened an array of presents that can only be described as over the top considering bob and Dana are already giving us a huge present of their hospitality. "White Mughals" for me, "The Namesake" for Kalli, "India in Slow Motion" for Reid and a pashmina for Margo. Many more to boot. Sat down to great Indian meal from Rahjan. Played tennis with Robert and Kalli while Margo and Reid and bob went to the Lodhi Gardens. Gathered for terrific turkey dinner and went to bed full and tired.
Pretty great Xmas all in all. But no mistaking it for home with moderate temperatures and guard sitting around smoky fires outside our house all night
G

How we got here

35 years ago, I studied in Vienna for a year. My best friend was Patrice Davis from Portland, Oregon. We use to get together every weekend and listen to the new Joni Mitchell album -- Blue -- and think of home. We stayed in touch over the years and Margo and I got to know her sister Dana and Dana's husband Bob and their kids Robert and Claire Davis Fischer. Claire worked for me for a time in DC and has become a good friend to the kids and us. Dana works for US AID and Bob is retired now from NIH and WHO. We missed them when they were stationed in Cairo and vowed not to make that mistake again. They are stationed in Delhi now and we decided to go for it this year and they were nice enough to host us and I do mean host us. Their driver Ben meets us at airports and train stations and takes us around Delhi at an amazing clip. Their cook Rahjan and his wife Manjou have made the most amazing Indian and American meals you can have away from home, maybe even at home. Son Robert (25) arrived a few days ago and has been beating us all in tennis and chess. Dana's indefatigable planning coordination made this trip possible and organized to the nth degree -- pretty important when 7 people are getting ready to travel together.
Tomorrow we leave for Kerala -- Cochin , a backwater boat tour and several days at the beach in Varkala before going to Mumbai for a few days and then back to Delhi and home.
That's how we got here -- lord knows how we top this...
Greg

Agra:The Red Fort

Agra --
At lunch at the Oberoi we take a break from our driver trying to guide us to his shops, from the dust and grit and chaos of the street to catch our breath literally. The view of the Taj from the Hotel Oberoi terrace starts at the treetops , obscuring the filthy crowded streets below -- a metaphor for "Shining India."



Agra Fort --We hire a guide and good thing too as it is a hide and seek labyrinth. The remains of opulence, rose water fountains, harems, artificial lakes, peacock throne, perfect perspective for the royal court (9th photo down on the right). Shah Jehan -- creator of the Taj Mahal -- ruled from this fort, which he surrounded with a moat with crocodiles and a forest with tigers. His son Aurangzeb overthrew him and imprisoned him here with a view of the Taj Mahal -- 8th and 10th photo on the right.
Exhausted, we eat sweets for an hour. We await our train in the dusk with mosquitoes swarming. Beggars are everywhere, crippled, legless, arms misplaced. A girl of 3 or 4 who could not get any dirtier or more pitiful begs on the platform. We have seen gypsies who are born, live and die by the side of the road in a space between the road and a wall. India is a snake, the saying goes, with its head in the 22nd Century and its tail in the 16th. The trailing edge of humanity, living to survive just for the (literal) hell of it.

The few women we have seen all day are colorful foreground to the uniformly drab background of swarming men in motion, always in motion.
India was ruled from Agra for years by the Shah and his son. Now, the good citizens of Agra cannot get it together to make it appealing for even a nights' stay. The destruction of the Mughal opulence is complete...and almost the memories as well...