Back in NYC

I figured I would post one last time to let everyone know I made it back safely. Got home at around 4:30pm yesterday. William enjoyed his present - a coconut carved in the likeness of me, but as a monkey - but I think I enjoy it more. I fell asleep by 8:30pm, woke up at 2am, woke William up and told him to entertain me, then fell asleep until this morning and am now back at the office. Jet lag is a bitch.

In any case, India is choice. If you ever have the opportunity, I highly recommend it. I'll post pictures when I've had a chance to go through them, but I have a lot of TV to watch first...

London, Ho.

Just landed in London to find a text message letting me know that Matt [did something hilarious] without knowing it. Hilarious. A much needed laugh in an otherwise pretty weak 18 hours.

You see, the email that told me my flight from Delhi was delayed came from some cryptic non-British Airways address, so I asked the hotel to reconfirm my flight. They tried calling the Indian British Airways desk, but they had gone home for the evening, so they called the airport, who said the flight was on time. Then they called the airport again, and they said it was departing at 4:10am. Then I checked online, and British Airways said it was departing at 6:26am. Then the hotel called the airport again, and they said it was departing at 3:30am. So I just went to the airport and figured I would sort it out there. After all, there wasn't much of a difference sitting in the hotel lobby than sitting in the airport.

Sure enough, 6:26am was the actual departure time, not anywhere near 3:30am, but I settled into the "Oberoi Clipper" lounge and did a whole bunch of nothing from about midnight until boarding (the internet was down). People say the Delhi airport is a zoo, but it was totally reasonable, like any other airport. Maybe its because there are so few tourists, or maybe its because Delhi has made a lot of improvements in anticipation of the Commonwealth Games coming in 2010 (including a metro), but it was totally fine.

I did decide that I would take some of my six hours there to try to rejigger my flights and see if I could avoid having to go through London AND Toronto to get to New York, and sure enough I managed to get a flight from London to JFK on American last minute - way easier than trying to deal with the people on the frequent flyer mile travel desk who came up with the initial three-leg journey as my only option.

At first, I was a little sad to have lost the privilege of the British Airways Terminal 5 lounges at Heathrow, as I had really been looking forward to that travel facial, and American Airlines is supposed to be a lot less nice than British Airways to fly on, but getting in 6.5 hours early even though you left 3 hours late is worth it. Plus, British Airways turned out to be no Jet Airways at all. First of all, the pajamas are way less comfortable. Two, the plane is a lot older and dirtier. C, their flight attendants are British ("Computer says no..."). Fourth, there is no top-but vibration feature. And fifth, there was only one way that my body would fit in the seat if I put the bed down (I had to cross my ankles). I did manage to get a decent bit of sleep (having been exhausted from staying up till 6:30am at the airport) and taking an Ambien just to be sure, but this monkey likes his sleep time and needs more of it.

I leave soon for New York. I am excited to head back to the city after a wonderful trip. In my experience, all of the horror stories you hear about India are totally wrong. Nothing was really that shady, the people were amazing and friendly, the sites were absolutely unreal, and Cynthia, Christina and I had a blast seeing it all together. Thanks India, for being so awesome.

Delhi at Leisure

Well face-pagans, my time in India is fast drawing to a close. Now both Cynthia and Christina have left, and I am spending my remaining time sitting in the hotel lobby smurfing the internet, awaiting my flight.

Today was so low key that I'm exhausted. We didn't do that much, but what we did do involved walking, which requires significantly more energy than sitting in a car.

First, we walked to the National Gallery of Modern Art because Christina and I were tired of seeing old things. We entered its "New Wing", which turned out to be the only wing that has anything in it (literally anything; I think they just moved all the old stuff to the new wing) and which is so new it looked and smelled like it had been completed and opened to the public ten to fifteen minutes before we got there. And by completed, I mean that it was still totally under construction, and there was construction dust everywhere that the docents were beating away with wet towels. But I digress...

The gallery was actually hands-down the most well organized thing we saw in India. The exhibit chronicled the development of Indian art from cave paintings to the Indian Modernist and Post-Modernist schools, showing the influence of western and eastern art styles and the development of a distinct Indian style. How do I know all this? Because, for the first time, things were actually labelled, in grammatical English, with descriptions. Nice one.

Second, we walked back to the hotel to pack up our stuff and check out of the hotel.

Third, we walked to the concierge to ask about how to get to a handmade paper bazaar in Old Delhi, and were told that we didn't want to go there. Fair enough. Instead, they suggested we walk around the corner to the Kahn Market, which turned out to be awesome.

So fourth, we walked to the Kahn Market. This market was a lot like some of the other markets we had been to, but with some important differences: (1) the stores had doors on them, (2) the stores had names instead of stall numbers, (3) the stores took credit cards, and (4) the "carefully arranged presentation" had replaced the "pile" as the primary display technique for the stores' wares. In other words, they were actual stores.

In all, it was a nice way to ease back into living in the Western world; we even walked into one store that looked like I was having a garage sale in my apartment back in NYC - I don't think there's a single thing there I wouldn't have been in the market for had William and I not already reached the absolute limit on household goods and decor items that 500 square feet can hold. I did walk away with a few wedding magazines and a book from a very respectable bookstore, that had a surprising number of design books from all over. A good experience day.

And that's all there is to report. I hear the airport is a disaster, so I might write about that in a few hours when I have nothing else to do. Wish me smooth sailing!

EFF, I spoke too soon. I just checked my email, and my flight out of Delhi has been delayed three hours, until about 6:30 am. Great...

Monkey sightings: No change. Except that I assume my plane's engines must be clogged with monkeys. Son of a %)#@$*@#$.

Bringing Back the Caprioska

So, today was our last day of real touring around India.  Cynthia is currently peeing in the lobby because she couldn't make it upstairs (well, the lobby bathroom), and then she's packing and heading off to the airport.

Today, we toured around Delhi with the best tour guide we've had yet, Anil.  We saw lots of amazing things, like the world's tallest brick tower (which is like saying the world's most beautiful ugly girl), some tomb that was the inspiration for the Taj Mahal, a mosque, a really awesome modern B'hai temple that was shaped like a lotus flower, and a Hindu temple that was very pleasing to the eyes (like Cynthia's features).  Also, you should know that everything in India has a gift shop, and if it doesn't, your guide will be sure to take you to 'a really impressive demonstration of traditional handicrafts' where you will be asked to 'just look even if you don't buy.' In other words, a gift shop.

No monkeys today, probably because I forgot to ask for them in my last blog post, but we did see a child doing the kind of tricks a monkey would do.  Somehow it was less impressive, as I feel like children are easier to train.  I did learn at the Hindu temple that the monkey god is actually an angry monkey god, a god of power who is known for tearing your sniz up with his hot monkey attitude.

Today would have been a hard day for William, as we were constantly surrounded by swarms.  Granted, the swarms were of kids in their school uniforms, but they came in some seriously major quantities.  Cynthia asked a bunch of them to wave for a photo and then immediately regretted it when they started coming towards her.

After sightseeing, we returned to the hotel, and after googling hot Delhi restaurants for an hour, went to Insomnia, in the lobby of our hotel.  The place was actually really decent; we had truly amazing starters and respectable entrees, and, most importantly, they played Elvis, Sinatra, the Carpenters, Rhinestone Cowboy, Dolly Parton, Johnny Cash, and similar hits.  At first, I thought the selection was pretty cheesy, but then we really got into it and it kind of made a lot of sense.

The bar/lounge was pretty hip, though we were the only customers.  Our waiter/manager was also great, and gave us free Indian rose.  They've only been open for four months, but on account of the recession and the Mumbai attacks, don't really get anyone except the occasional businessman looking for a drink, so they were excited to have us.  Sad, because the ambiance, food and service, as well as our Caprioskas, were all very good.

Christina and I are keeping it low key tomorrow, but we'll see what develops.  More monkeys tomorrow, please?

Monkey sightings: no change.

P.S. Cynthia pulled the trigger tonight, but just a little bit she said.

P.P.S. There is a Hindi/Punjabi song about Obama, in which we learned that many Hindi/Punjabi words rhyme with Obama.

Don't Shower with your Mouth Open

Sorry blog fans! Came down with a wicked fever yesterday afternoon and couldn't post. William had assumed that I had either lost my blackberry or died.  Both were equally likely, but neither true.

In any case, before the hallucinations set in, we had a big day.  We woke up early in the morning to tour around Jaipur (home of the Monkey Thieves) with our misogynistic tour guide.  Let me tell you, the roofs of Jaipur are literally paved in monkeys.  There were monkeys everywhere.  Awesome.  None of them did tricks, but they did play in trees and jump on stuff.

We saw the Palace of the Winds (still not clear what that was, though it has lots of little windows for lots of little women to watch little parades without being seen), the City Palace and Textile Museum (home of the current Maharaja and of the biggest silver objects in the world - urns), and the Lake Palace (former summer home of royalty built smack in the middle of a lake, soon to be a hot new restaurant).  We also saw an eighteenth century observatory, which was quite possibly the coolest thing yet.  There was a sun dial for everything - for the time, for the astrological sign we were in, for whether it was summer or winter, and I think even for telling you when brunch was ready.  I'm always amazed when eighteenth century hicks are better at math than I am. Our tour guide made sure to find ways to point out that men were smarter than Christina, so I took comfort in that.

After all those sites, we went to the Amber Fort, which I kept calling the Agra Fort, even though we weren't in Agra.  It was also similar to the Agra fort, and also had lots of little windows for little women.

And then I got sick.  Luckily, we were driving from Jaipur to Agra, so I basically passed out the whole way.  Not sure what I had, but I think I'm killing it softly with antibiotics.  Oh well.

More this evening, space people.

Monkey sightings: so... many... monkeys...

P.S.  If you're going to have a bumper sticker on your rickshaw that says spitting causes TB, maybe you should think about not spitting out of your rickshaw.

Jaipur? I Barely Even Know Hur.

Today, we drove from Agra to Jaipur.  Along the way, we stopped at Fatehpur Sikri, a 'ghost town' outside of Agra, but only in the sense that it is a really old town, like the Agra Fort we saw yesterday, but just not still being used as a barracks.  No actual ghosts.

We walked around the abandoned red-stone city, spending most of our time fending off tour guides.  Seriously, because there are so few tourists, every amateur tour guide at the place tried to lead us around.  One of them even started giving a tour, claiming he worked there, but providing lots of wrong information directly in contradiction to several carved stone plaques that we were standing in front of, until I shouted, 'thanks for the information, but we'd like to look at this in silence!'  Unfortunately, we were in an echo chamber, and I was overheard by several dozen British tourists who must have thought I was just about the worst person they had ever met.  Luckily, that's how the Indians seem to feel about British tourists in India.  Wasn't the occupation enough?

On the way from the ghost town to Jaipur, we saw four monkeys, about one hundred camels pulling carts, and one-half a puppy.  The monkeys were awesome, as usual.  The camels were so plentiful that there were even camel-only rest stops, where you'd see several camels just sitting there.  Like when you had to rest your oxen in oregon trail.  The half-puppy was decidedly less cute than a puppy that hadn't been ripped in half, and also decidedly less cute than a live puppy.  Oh, and we also saw a giant statue of the Hindu monkey god.  Brilliant.

After making it to Jaipur, we checked into the hotel, which is really quite spectacular, as it was previously the palace of the former prime minister.  I also really approved of their choice of fabrics, which prompted us to go fabric shopping again, this time in Jaipur's old city.  There, I got lots of amazing stuff (as I had to cancel the order I had placed in Mumbai, as they couldn't get what I ordered), and it was worth it because shopping here at the fabric factory stores was way better than what was in Mumbai.

When we returned to the hotel, we ate dinner outside, watched some traditional Indian dance, browsed the outdoor shopping market, and played life-sized chess on the outdoor chess board.  You know, typical Wednesday night stuff.

After all this, we returned to the hotel room, and just when I thought I wouldn't see any more monkeys today, we flipped on Nat Geo, which was showing 'Monkey Thieves', a reality tv documentary show ABOUT THE MONKEY GANGS OF JAIPUR.  OK, I know you're probably all tired of my obsession with monkeys, but everyone go TiVo this show right now.  To give you a taste, I just watched a gang of monkeys break into an accountant's office to throw tax returns out the window into the street.  Try telling THAT to a client.  And all this was shot a few blocks from where we're currently staying, right where we were fabric shopping.  I hope to meet the lead monkey, Zamir, when were touring around tomorrow.

Monkey sightings: approximately 20 real, 1 fake, 1 Zack Efron.

P.S. Everyone in India is super into Obama, and lots of people have been asking about him.  Much like the tour guides, I have just been making stuff up about him and his xray vision.

Um, Did I Just See a Taj Mahal?

Oh man. I should ask for monkeys every day.  Once again, when you ask for monkeys, India delivers.

We woke up early this morning and met our driver to make our way from Delhi to Agra.  During the drive, we had to stop at the side of the road for a few minutes while we waited for our driver to pay a toll, which apparently was an invitation to every street peddler in a 20 mile radius to come accost our SUV.  It was like being at African Lion Safari, except that all the lions were Indian not African, and the lions were also selling jewelry and little drums.  Luckily, during the previous two weeks, we had become experts at ignoring all of these peddlers and just minding our business, which we did with aplomb.

That is... until the man with the monkeys came.  This man had four monkeys on leashes, and, unlike the previous monkeys we had seen, these monkeys did awesome tricks.  And they had come to our car!

First the monkeys bowed for us.  Then they bowed again.  Then we got tired of the bowing, and without us even asking, the monkeys switched from bowing to doing backflips.  STRAIGHT UP MONKEY BACKFLIPS.  Then they climbed a pole, climbed down, and did more backflips.

In case you can't tell, these were some awesome monkeys.  If it weren't for the fact that they were on leashes and the fact that there's nothing more sad than a sad monkey sadly doing backflips on a leash, I would have declared the trip over and requested to return to Delhi to await my flight home in a closet, so as to have nothing tarnish the memory of the monkey encounter.  But, the sadness overwhelmed, and when the guy started to look like he was going to ask for money, we all pretended like we weren't interested.  This was very hard for me, as I was really, really interested, but nevertheless, I bit my tongue and pretended not to pay attention.

But the thing with monkeys is that they make you pay attention, and this one monkey decided to make us pay attention by jumping up onto Cynthia's window and pressing his jumbly bits against the glass.  This made Cynthia screech like a monkey and caused me to exclaim that even the monkeys in India were fascinated by the Korean.  I wonder if this is the case with any of the other colors in the yellow rainbow.

And this all happened before we even got to Agra!

Eventually, our driver came back, the monkey jumped down, and we continued on our way.  After checking into the hotel, we met our driver and guide to go on a tour of Fort Agra, the old fort city, much of which seems to be designed to give you picturesque views of the Taj Mahal, despite having been built before the Taj Mahal.  We looked around, it was totally awesome and unreal, and, most importantly, it also has a monkey.

This monkey was a bit less active, as it did nothing but drink water out of a puddle, but I nevertheless missed a solid five minutes of the tour.  I did learn that the fort was built over a number of years by someones grandfather who was locked in a tower where he could see some sort of mausoleum he built out of white granite for his dead wife plus also it was a barracks now sometimes.  I didn't really catch the details.  Hello, I had just seen a monkey.  I was recovering.

After the Agra Fort, we drove over to the Taj Mahal (apparently pronounced Tadz Meh-hell), which was absolutely incredible.  The terrorist attacks in Mumbai basically made it feel like we were the only people there and had a total run of the place, as there has been something like a 90% cancellation rate since the attacks.  So, we ran around, took photos until our batteries ran out, and then stayed another hour to watch the sun set.  The sheer size of the thing was incredible, despite Cynthia's declaration that it looked bigger in her head.  If that thing can fit in your head Cynthia, damn, you've got a HUGE head.  But seriously, the whole thing was unreal.  If we couldn't still see it from our hotel room window, I wouldn't believe it was real.

So, its pretty clear today was amazing.  Tomorrow, we're off to see Jaipur.  Top that, India.  Oh, and dear six-pound eight-ounce baby India, please oh please bring me more monkeys tomorrow.

Monkey sightings: approximately 16 real, 1 fake, 1 Zack Efron.

Seriously Nothing to Report

Seriously.  The whole day was spent getting from Kovalam to Delhi, where we safely arrived this evening.  Sorry blog fans.  Hopefully more tomorrow, as we head to Agra in the morning.  I hear they have something called the Taj Mahal.  It's a hotel, yes?

Monkey count: no change.  Agra better deliver.

The Indian Ocean Ate my Baby

Well, not my baby, but my sunglasses.  We went to the beach this morning, and the moment I broke the surface of the water, the water broke me back.  Literally, as soon as I got in, the otherwise calm sea erupted and bitch slapped me with a wave so big that it knocked me face first into the sand, causing the sunglasses that I forgot I was wearing to fly off my head.  Thanks, ocean.  I now understand why Rachel didn't take Ben into you.

After swimming, we went to the public part of the beach in Kovalam, where we saw more white people than the entire rest of our trip put together.  We tried to ignore them and walked around and did a lot of great shopping in the beach-side shops instead, and then we ended the evening by haggling with a rickshaw driver over 50 cents.

You see, on the rickshaw ride down from the hotel, the rickshaw driver refused to put on the meter and instead quoted a ridiculous price of 100 rupees ($2) for the ten minute ride.  Cynthia then told him that the hotel told us it would only be 30 rupees (60 cents), a number she pulled from way deep in her ass.  The driver then told him that the hotel was "trying to screw him," but we all definitely thought the 'hotel' had been right.  And so, upon arriving at the beach, I gave the driver 50 rupees ($1), making it clear that the extra 20 rupees (40 cents) was because "I was in a good mood," adding insult to injury.

After shopping (aka haggling) for three hours, we were ready to head back, and so we went to the place we were previously dropped off to pick up another rickshaw.  Of course, every driver similarly told us that it would be 100 rupees ($2) to get back to the hotel, which caused me to say that it had only cost us 50 ($1) rupees to get down there, and that we would only pay 50 rupees to get back.    No one took the bait, so we walked a little bit up the road to another rickshaw driver who also quoted us a 100 rupee price.  I again said 50 rupees for some reason, but after some arguing and because we had grown tired of walking those 20 feet, we finally settled on 75 rupees ($1.50) as the final price.  We piled into the rickshaw and were on our way to the hotel before we knew it.

And that's when we realized that none of us had 75 rupees, and that our smallest bill was the 100 rupees everyone had initially requested.  In retrospect, 100 rupees may have very well been the fair and correct price, and so we wound up giving the guy 100 anyway, but I was proud of us for thinking that those 50 cents were worth 30 minutes of our time.  The British Imperialists would have been proud.

As a parting note, I'd like to relive an exchange from yesterday of which Cynthia just reminded me:

Mike: "Man, I smell like eucalyptus from my massage."

Three minutes later...

Cynthia: "Man, what is that smell?!?"
Mike: "Its still me Cynthia, from the massage."

Three minutes later:

Cynthia: "Wow.  You really smell."
Mike: "Thanks, Cynthia."

Ten minutes later...

Wayne: "It smells like bell peppers."
Cynthia: "Mike, is that what you wanna smell like? Bell peppers?"
Mike shakes his head no.
Cynthia (threateningly): "TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT TO SMELL LIKE."

So, that's basically all I have to say for today.  Tomorrow we fly to Delhi to start our golden triangle tour.  More to report then.

Monkey count: no change.  Grrrrrr.

P.S. Even the squirrels are malnourished in India.  Seriously, they're the size of NYC rats.  Why even have squirrels?

Rubba Rubba from the Professionals

Today was another uneventful day.  Woke up, ate, sat by the pool all day, stealing life preservers from little children.

Rachel, Wayne and Ben arrived midday.  Rachel was feeling a little sick, so we shunned her for most of the day.

My big event for the day was getting an Indian deep tissue massage at the hotel spa.  It all began with a steam, a shower, and an uncomfortable ritual foot washing.  No one should ever be on their knees in front of me washing my feet, nor should I ever be standing in a bowl for any reason.

The massage was excellent and involved the therapist using her knee on my back repeatedly.  I am now severely bruised, which is how I like it; if you don't feel like you're working to hold back the tears during a massage, they're not doing it right.

When I returned to the pool, I found that Rachel had emerged with Ben, and so we took turns making him do entertaining things in the water.  I learned that Ben likes head nods, but is confused by head bobs.  (In lieu of nodding or shaking, Indians do this awesome head bob thing where they bob their heads side to side like, well, a bobble head.  It means everything from "yes, sir" to "no, sir" to "absolutely, sir" to "I hate you, sir" to "get out of my way, sir" to "thank you, sir, for the lousy tip, sir" to "I have nothing more to say to you, sir", sometimes all at once.)

Other than that, we sat by the pool some more and then by the hot tub.  Life is good.

Monkey sightings: no change.

P.S.  Monkey misses pitter.

Train Trek India 2009

Not too much to report today, as most of it was spent on the train from Cochin to Trivandrum:

After hanging out by the pool for awhile this morning at the hotel in Cochin, we left for the train station about an hour and a half before our train was to depart, only to find out that the train was about 30 minutes delayed.  We didn't find this out, of course, for quite some time, as the indicators for such things are not readily apparent.  Despite the fact that there were several television monitors displaying train schedules for upcoming trains (none of which showed our train), delayed trains were just written on a whiteboard near the ticket desk.  It took quite awhile to find said whiteboard.  There was also another train with the same name leaving at the exact same time but heading in the other direction, which was very confusing.  In any case, we three Georgetown grads did manage to figure it out eventually, and after some triple checking, we got on the train without too much fanfare.

The second class air-conditioned cabin we reserved was not nearly as lux as we had become accustomed to, given the level of service at our last hotel.  We weren't expecting much, though, so it was fine, though the train was needlessly dark.  The whole train car was lit by like two dim, bare fluorescent light bulbs, and all the windows were either tinted or just very dirty.  This was a shame since the views out the window were quite lovely, though less lovely once you realized that the toilet in the train car was just a hole in the floor opening onto the tracks.  I have now marked several meters of Kerala with my urine.

Upon boarding, we did get into a bit of an altercation with two attorneys from Montreal who were backpacking through India with no plan for like six weeks, and who were in our seats when we got aboard.  "These girls are very crunchy granola for attorneys," I thought to myself, "but not nearly as crunchy granola as the white girl at our last hotel who thought wearing a sari was totally appropriate after being in India one day."  After we sorted the seat situation out, they were very actually quite pleasant, and marveled that there had been toilet paper everywhere we had been so far.

They got off the train after a bit in Allepy (where our houseboat tour ended yesterday), and so we settled in and closed the curtains to our four-berth cabin area in an attempt to stop the water/coffee/vegetable patty/tea salesmen from coming in every 15 minutes.  Unfortunately, the curtains didn't seem to stop them at all.  In fact, it might have encouraged them, and certainly closing the curtains robbed us of any warning that these peddlers might bust in at any moment.

Five C+ hours later, we arrived in Trivandrum, where we were met by a driver who took us to our next hotel.  I will say that this hotel is decidedly less nice than the last, which was unfortunate as I was looking forward to being supremely well taken care of during our three days of beach time, but the place is passible, so I won't complain.  It too has toilet paper.

So, that's about it for now.  We're settling it to watch a movie on HBO (which is in English with English subtitles, as the American English accent is difficult to understand when your first language is Indian English, as it is for many people here in India).  Stay classy, San Diego.

Monkey sightings: no change, unless you count the monkey at Christina's birthday party in Mommy Dearest, which I watched on my iPod on the train.

In Your Face, Houseboat

Before I get into today's adventure, I realized I forgot to mention that we also saw dolphins yesterday from the sunset cruise. I didn't know India had dolphins, but I was pleasantly surprised. They were just like regular dolphins, but they really seemed to like curry and would say things like 'timings' and 'prepone.'

Today began in a bathtoy-sized speed-boat ride out to the middle of the backwaters of Kerala somewhere. We even went through a lock that divides salt water from fresh. It was super fun, as you always felt like you were going to fly off the boat. To remember the experience, I got myself some wicked forearm burns from having the sleeves of my shirt rolled up. I look like I'm wearing wonder woman's arm cuffs.

We don't know how he got us there, as there was nothing but fishing canoes and palm trees to mark the passing distance, but the captain of our little boat managed to find the traditional Keralan houseboat on which we'd spend the afternoon. We were expecting to meet the houseboat at some sort of dock, but it was just parked in the middle of a lake, one of several lakes in the backwaters that had their own houseboats. Again, unclear how he found ours.

When we got on our traditional Keralan houseboat, which we had all to ourselves, we learned that traditional Keralans had two floors, two bedrooms, a sundeck, functioning bathrooms with showers, and a tv with a DVD player and five speaker surround sound. In other words, traditional Keralans had it rough. We sucked it up, though, and started cruising the backwaters on the houseboat among some truly unbelievable tropical scenery. We stopped about half way to have a Keralan meal in the lower level dining room, which was served on Banana leaves instead of plates and eaten with fingers (until they suggested we use the spoons they provided). It was delicious.

When we resumed cruising, we noticed that there were several other houseboats sailing the backwaters, but everyone elses houseboats seemed to have Indian families instead of two white people and an asian. Curiously, every time we waved and took a picture of them, they waved and took a picture of us. I don't know why we are so fascinating.

We passed the remaining time on the boat by gossiping, listening to Beyonce's Single Ladies, and playing Mad Lips (Operation Edition). The whole experience was totally unreal, beautiful and relaxing.

We got off the houseboat down in the town of Allepy, where we met a driver who took us back to the hotel. When we got back, we decided to take a swim in the pool, and on our way out noticed one of the staff members was busy messing with some decorative rocks in a box on a table. When we returned at least half an hour later, several more staff members had joined in the fun and were also messing with the decorative rocks. We later asked the hotel's bartender what all that fuss was all about, and he confirmed that they were, in fact, decorative rocks. I fear we may have had a communication issue. Tomorrow I will take some rocks, as they must be culturally significant.

That's really it for the day. Tomorrow we take a train to Kovalam (a town further south in Kerala) to relax at a different resort. Rachel, Wayne and Ben will meet us Saturday. More to come.

Monkey count: no change.

Big day. Huge.

Today has been a long and eventful one.

We woke up at 4am to catch a flight from Mumbai to Cochin, rode to the hotel to check in, had a quick lunch and immediately started sightseeing. I will note that they served bottled lemonade with salt in it on the plane, which was a surprising change from typically delicious versions of lemonade we were used to.

I will also note that the hotel is super nice. Our room is right on the water, overlooking palm trees and the hotel's private yacht, as well as the infinity pool and spa complex. Considering that its a Taj hotel, security has been upgraded, given the recent terrorist attacks on the Taj Mahal Hotel in Mumbai. Well, kinda upgraded. They did check every car pretty thoroughly as it drove in and made us go through the metal detectors when we entered, but we all did so with our backpacks still on, clearly setting the detectors off, and yet were allowed to continue merrily on our way without further scrutiny. Apparently, 'white' is not a color on the Taj threat level indicator.

One thing that is weak about the hotel is that it wants to charge me for internet access, which has made me resort to typing this out on my blackberry. They make up for it, though, by having a cruise director who arranges all kinds of activities during the day, including a napkin folding class and an Indian martial arts demonstration, none of which we attended.

Instead, we had the hotel organize a driver for us to take us into Old Cochin to see the sights. Cochin is located in Kerala, a predominantly Christian state, and was also a central trading port, so it has been significantly influenced by Portugese, Dutch, Chinese and other cultures. As such, the substantial number of houses of worship here are a hodge podge of various simultaneous ethnic designs, which can be very interesting. The Santa Cruz Basilica was particularly pretty.

So as to not leave anyone out, there is also a neighborhood in Cochin called Jew Town, centered around a street called Jew Street. No joke. We learned from a very informative sign in the synagogue that there are SIXTY to SEVENTY Jews living in Kerala. Despite these numbers, however, Cochin is still primarily up with Jesus.

We also visited the Dutch Palace, a palace built by the Dutch. There, we learned that the Dutch are not very good at building palaces, as it kind of sucked, but it was still worth the four-cent admission price.

The highlight of the stops in Old Cochin was seeing the fishing nets. Fisherman here still use traditional Mongolian fishing tactics, which basically involve a giant wooden lever suspended over the water, counter weighted with boulders, that they use to raise and lower huge nets in and out of the water. This leads to catching two or three whole angelfish at a time, but its really cool to watch. Cochin is apparently the only place left that uses this technique. To me, the inefficiencies make the reasons why this was abandoned by everyone else pretty obvious, but what the fishermen lose in actual fish they seem to gain in tips from tourists, so I guess it all evens out.

After our Cochin tour, we returned to the hotel and departed on the hotel's complimentary sunset cruise. We though this cruise would be on the aforementioned yacht, but they surprised us and brought around a double decker boat made to look like a traditional Keralan houseboat, which was ten times more awesome (we will be on an actual Keralan houseboat tomorrow, which will be even ten times more awesome, so were talking exponents here people). From the boat, we got some awesome shots of the sun setting behind the fishnets we saw earlier in the day, which I would post, but for the blackberry.

Now we're off to one of the restaurants to have Indian/Western barbecue al fresco, and also my thumbs hurt from typing, so no more to add until tomorrow.

Monkey sightings: no change.

Jew sightings: unknown, but probably less than seventy.

Lost: Season 1

Today, we went to the Lost Island, which appeared out of a haze:

We saw the caves where the tailies lived:

And the barracks:

And the dock where Locke ruined it for everyone:

For some reason, what you don't see on the TV show is that there are like 10 monkeys there. And the monkeys are awesome. There were monkeys hanging from vines, monkeys walking around, and monkeys sunning themselves on rocks while other monkeys picked at their tummies. They are mischievous and sneaky creatures, and they will steal your food. And if you give them some of your food, they will hold onto the food you gave them while they go after the food you still have in your hand. When you ask for monkeys in India, India delivers:

On the boat ride back, I learned that what we had actually seen wasn't the Lost Island, but was instead Elephanta Island, an island off the coast of Mumbai with a very interesting series of caves and sculptures carved into the mountainside. Sadly, a lot of the sculpture has been damaged over time. They were, however, shooting a movie there at the time, so the place had a lot of dramatic lighting, and you all know how I feel about dramatic lighting.

After Elephanta, we rode to the Mumbai University, which is way nicer than any university I've ever been to, and has a tower modeled off the Tower of London that chimes like Big Ben. We broke open the delicious lunch Ben's nanny Dianne had made for us on the street outside the university, and many passerbys were confused about why the two white people and the asian were eating Indian food out of one tupperware container with three spoons on the street corner. Dianne had previously complained that Rachel never keeps chilies in the house, as she pulled chillies out of her purse. Bless Dianne.

Unphased, we walked down past a couple of disappointing things to the Price of Wales Museum. The museum has awesome grounds and is itself very cool looking, and inside has a small but fairly impressive collection of Indian artifacts. The old map room was particularly interesting, as none of the maps were correct (having been made by Europeans based off of other maps and hearsay from travellers returning from India), but also because it was the only room that had air conditioning.

We then drove off to the Gandhi market, another fabric market where I had much better luck than yesterday (hope you're excited, Anita), and stopped along the way (at Raju's suggestion) at a really beautiful Jain temple, which was a highlight, despite being listed as only worth one fork in Time Out: Mumbai.

After returning home, we had dinner with Rachel and Wayne, and we're now napping / packing for our early morning flight to Cochi tomorrow.

Monkey count: approximately 11 real, 1 fake, and 1 Zack Efron.

Fast Times at Mangaldas Market

Today, Cynthia, Christina and I ventured out to do some shopping in Mumbai, primarily to go to the Mangaldas fabric market.  You know how sometimes you go to the Cheesecake Factory and they give you that menu with the index and you have absolutely no idea what to order because there are way, way, way too many options?  Well, imagine that the the staff was also making and throwing each plated menu item at you while other restaurants were tugging on your clothes trying to get you to go there.  And imagine that all the advertisements in the menu were also shouting at you and that you had to haggle about the price per chicken pot sticker, and you've got a pretty good idea of what the day was like.

We allowed the least aggressive of the shouting advertisements to lead us around for awhile through the market and to several shops outside.  He, however, weaved and dodged through the streets at a totally unreasonable breakneck pace (considering that we were walking four deep) and kept taking us deeper and deeper in more confusing directions, and we were never really sure whether we would make it out alive.  Turns out he was very, very nice and really just trying to help for a tip or a small commission, but none of us were really sure that was the case until it was all over.  Still, my thanks go out to him, because I'm not sure I would have been quite as assertive with the shop clerks if we hadn't been led there.   

Unfortunately, after several hours of running around and looking at stall after stall and wholesaler after wholesaler (many of which were up very sketch staircases where you kind of thought you might get beat up by the fabric mafia), I wasn't really able to get anything I needed.  While the fabrics were amazing and really well priced (especially at the stalls), people tended not to have the quantity of fabric I actually needed.  And at the wholesalers, the selection wasn't there.  Christina got some great stuff, but was only looking for a few yards at a time.  At the recommendation of a friend of Rachel and Wayne's, though, we're going to another market tomorrow where I hope I'll have better luck.

After the market, we met our driver Raju who took us to the Bombay Store, which was like a legitimate version of the Bombay Company.  The air conditioning alone was enough to get us to think that this was a much better way to shop (though the market was a pretty crazy bananas thing I'm glad I experienced).  Christina and Cyn picked up some great gift-type items for a very reasonable price, and then we headed over to the government-run Cottage Industries Market, which gathers together a bunch of handicrafts from Indian artisans.  I managed to pick up some truly awesome handmade gift bags to use for the hotel guests' welcome packages, which I, of course, was not looking for at all.  Still, I'm pretty excited about them.

We're settling in to a couple of beers and some Chinese food in a bit and regrouping for tomorrow.  I'm off, mostly because Rachel just walked in and usually likes to read my blog immediately after posting, despite having lived through the day herself. 

Monkey sightings: still no change.  I was told there would be monkeys.

Living Like Bollywood Starlets

Went to Rachel and Wayne's country-club-type place today, which now seems like a totally understandable and necessary investment, rather than a luxury.  It's not very expensive considering the typical Westerner's income, but is out of reach for most Indians.  What you get for the money is a very clean place and a place to get away from the general chaos that is the streets of Mumbai.  Given the shear number of everything -- rickshaws, people, pantsless pooping children -- I imagine it can get really overwhelming if not for places like this.

I will say that all this chaos is incredibly functional, as people seem to be constantly helping each other out, giving directions, and double beeping and making a series of complex head motions while driving to indicate whose turn it is to cram their car wherever there is room for it.  Literally wherever there is room for it; a full bus rubbed up against our car the other day, as it apparently thought there was some more room to fill in.

The club was having a kite festival, but we were sitting more towards the kite graveyard that was the pool area.  Every so often, one would fly overhead and just die, falling into a tree or into the pool.  We could, however, hear all the music and announcements from where we were sitting, such as the announcement about the paper "plate" flying contest (which turned out to be a paper plane flying contest) and all the encouragement for those actually flying kites.  And I just thought that the lyrics to all my favorite Hindi songs were "fly! fly! fly!"...

We did learn a valuable lesson: Ben hates things that are mildly uncomfortable, like being dipped in cold pool water.  William and Ben have that in common.

At one point, a Bollywood star departed the club surrounded by paparazzi.  We, of course, had no idea who this person was, but Cynthia immediately jumped out of her seat with her camera and chased after them, not to take pictures of the celebrity but to take pictures of the paparazzi taking pictures of the celebrity.  Meta.  She then returned and immediately asked if I was going to blog about the incident.  She is so Korean sometimes.

Our non-non-veg Domino's pizzas have arrived, so I'm off.  They called to reconfirm our order, and also delivered in 30-minutes or less (as per their guarantee), neither of which would have happened in New York.  After we eat, Wayne's off to pick Christina up at the airport.  She had to fly economy.  I can't imagine what that must have been like for her.

Monkey sightings: still no change. sad.

Mumbai Wedding

Dear Anita,

Unfortunately, after attending a wedding in India this evening, I have discovered SEVERAL additional budget items for your Indian wedding in America for which we had not previously accounted:

1. Bubble machines.

2. Carbonated lemonade.

3. String lights.

4. Hip-hop from 1992. 

Kind regards,

Michael

On a serious note, though, we had a great time.  Wayne and I got a chance to really hang out and tell stories to one another.  I had several vodka-carbonated-lemonades with ice, and, even though the ice melted in my drink and I still drank it, I have yet to get a serious stomach ailment.  I am now much more concerned about giving myself psychosomatic intestinal distress than anything else.  I do kinda always feel like I might have messed myself a little, but that just means that Ben and I have even more in common than I thought.

Rachel was super helpful today, as were several guests at the wedding, with respect to Anita's big day.  We drove around looking at fabric and saris and duppati and bangels and all sorts of great items I can't wait to bring back for her.  We have several more stops over the next several days while I'm in Mumbai, so I just hope the fecal count stays low.  I fear, though, that I'm exhausting our new mommy.

You heard me right.  Mumbai has a fecal count like DC has a pollen count.  Breathe in all that poopy goodness.  I know I'll be sleeping with the windows open tonight.

Michael

Monkey sightings: no change.

Arrived in Mumbai

I don't know if any of you saw this coming, but I definitely finished out High School Musical 3 on ny second flight. Granted, I watched four other movies first and then tried to watch Memoirs of a Geisha when I ran out of things I actually wanted to see, but it had distinctly too many memoirs and way too much geisha to hold my interest. Three clicks over and I was starting to have Wildcat fever again. I don't have a lot of positive things to say about the movie other than you don't have to watch 1 and 2 to totally understand what's going on in 3.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, but quite pleasant overall. Our pilot, Col. Sanders, came to introduce himself to me before the flight, but refused to give up his recipe for fried chicken. I discovered the massage function on my chair, which was really more of a top-butt vibration feature, but was certainly better than not having a massage function. I also stuffed myself silly with delicious Indian food the whole flight, which kept me distracted from my irrational but ever-growing hatred of the only other passenger in first class, who I can only identify as the man with the black shoe (the black shoe being all I could see). I closed the doors to my little cabin and all was right with the world again.

We landed a bit late, having been delayed in Brussels for an hour for de-icing. Being escorted through customs and immigration was particularly awesome, as the whole process, including getting my luggage, took less than 10 minutes. Rachel and her driver were waiting outside to take us back to her place, which was good, because the airport is a total mob scene.

And that's when I saw my first monkey, on the drive from the airport, underneath a car, which had pulled over on the side of the road, I assume to see the monkey that was underneath it. Unfortunately, on doctor's orders, I was not allowed to get out and play with the monkey, but enjoyed it nevertheless from the glass prison that became Rachel and Wayne's car. One day, Monkey...

I've been playing with the baby all morning, who is super cute. Rachel and Wayne enjoyed the spindly little stuffed monkey I brought from Takashimaya, and Ben will learn to appreciate it when he reaches his Nightmare before Christmas stage. Currently, Ben just needs a lot of tending to in the form of noises and cuddling. I have come to the realization that, at this point in our relationship, a baby would divert way too much of William's attention. I'm learning so much already in this wondeful country!

Rachel and I are off to cruise around Mumbai to go to her tailor, and then off to a wedding reception this afternoon. Some sort of kite fair may be on the agenda for later this weekend. Very excited to be here. Hang in there Westerners; more to come soon.

Monkey sightings = 1 real, 1 stuffed, 1 Zack Efron.

Shutting it Down in Brussels

Ok, so... Jet Airways has been shutting it down. Shutting it down with its face, shutting it down with its makeup, and especially shutting it down with the ridiculously comfortable pajamas, Bulgari scented hot towels, Bernadaud china, and Tamarind-quality in-flight meal. Seriously, that was some good Vegetable Chaat. I cannot, however, help but feel awkward about being escorted everywhere and having one ridiculous one-sided conversation after another with my escorts about things like how many people have died as a result of Brussels' recent snowfall and which European countries have the hottest women. According to Claus: not Belgium, but maybe Spain.

I watched fifteen minutes of High School Musical 3 while I ate dinner on the plane (even the cabin staff had a hard time keeping up with how quickly I could put down four courses), and the only positive thing I can say about this movie is that Marnie's boyfriend from Halloweentown 3: Halloween Has Ben's Eyes is in it. It did, however, make me want to go to bed as soon as the meal was over. I am saving the good movies for my next flight -- the one I'm trying to stay awake during.

I slept... kind of... but with all the fanfare of eating and changing and opening and closing those little doors next to my seat and changing again, I maybe slept for two and a half hours before we landed. I actually feel fairly well rested, considering, and a shower has helped. I am going to sit in front of a window for some light therapy, because I have heard this is something people do.

Boarding again soon. Hope these flights aren't the nicest part of the trip, though I'm getting pretty excited to play with my once furry, now normal fake nephew Ben Crawford, which should be pretty nice. Hope he likes his present.

Monkey sightings = 1. No wait, that was Zack Efron.

At the Airport

So, I've decided to blog about my travels in India to justify having brought my laptop with me.  I was originally going to put this on facebook (or, as Judy Penetcost calls it, "facepage") but decided that years of indiscriminate friend-adding really had created too wide an audience.  Also, I wasn't really sure what a blog was until I googled it.

In any case, I am currently waiting at the airport.  Jet Airways has escorted me to the bowels of EWR into some drop ceiling room and told me someone would definitely come get me when the time was ready.  I was suspicious (mostly about the grammar) until they offered me two delicious glasses of champs and a pastrami and whole-grain mustard sandwich.  Then I noticed all the furniture that I can't afford and the sign and partition indicating that I am better than the business class people.  Sense of entitlement rising...

I am very tired, but super excited about my trip.  I definitely wanted to get on India time as quickly as possible but was worried about being able to fall asleep on the plane.  So, I took an Ambien for the first time last night.  After getting way less sleep than no Ambien at all and apparently waking up in the middle of the night to yell "BUT THE FLIGHT IS ON MY CREDIT CARD" and to smash my lip into the window sill next to my bed, I am now sufficiently exhausted to fall asleep the minute I get on that plane.  Kudos Ambien.  Works every time.

Anyhow, having not left America yet, I don't have much else to say.  I'll try to write more from Brussels, if time allows.  I hear they give good layover there.

P.S. Monkey sightings = 0.  And counting.