Camel Safari - Part two

So the first challenge I have is getting on this enormous beast.  As I have said over and over again, I am a middle aged woman and my flexibility is not what it used to be, so I looked beseechingly at the guide and ask does the camel get any lower.  He did not understand me *most Indians do not understand my english* and he smiled and said yes.  We all know what yes means now.  So I bravely put my leg in the stirrup and immediately get stuck.  I hear this little snicker behind me and the guide is just standing there looking at me with this huge grin on his face.  The minute he sees me looking at him he wipes the grin off his face and comes running over to help me.  Twila at this time is on her camel and giving me suggestions on how to crawl on.

Finally he picks my poor arthritic leg and throws it over the camel.  I give a little grunt of pain then I am fine.  As the camel  starts to rise I immediately start to list off the camel only to find Twila laughing her head off at me until her camel starts to get up then I hear her yelp and it is my turn to laugh.

Soon Raju and I become the best of friends, I am crooning about what a big and powerful beast he is and he in turn is giving me these looks that lets me know that we have bonded and we are of the same mind.  He loves me.  He is my ship of the desert and he takes me gently along.  Every now and then he turns his head to check and make sure I am okay, and when the flies get to much I shoo them away for him.  A truly symbiotic relationship.  I have found my Indian Taya.

Our guide gets us lost lots and lots of times, but I do not care, I am enjoying my ride and I am enjoying my time with Raju.  But lunch is way over due, and I worry about Raju, so when he finally tells us we must get off and walk I am okay with that, until I actually try and get off.  Getting on was hard, getting off - well that was even harder.  I won't bore anybody with the details, but I am sure it would make a great laurel and hardy movie.

Once off I walk up to Raju and ask the guide if I can pet him.  He says of course, so I pet Raju and I thank him for the ride.  The guide thinks that is the funniest thing.  He laughs and says you thank Raju?  Yes I say, he carried me, I thank him.  I think I am the only person he has ever met that thanked a camel for a ride.  A story for his children I am sure.

We had the most fabulous lunch in the most heavenly area in the world, and I thought this is one of the best days of my life.  I don't care if I have to go in the sand, I have a new friend.

End of part 2

Camel Safari

At the start of the planning of this wonderful adventure Twila and I sat down separately did research and then each came up separately with places we wanted to see.  As I was researching India I came across a picture that captured my heart and soul.  It was Jaisalmer.

The first thing I thought when I saw the picture of this magnificent city was I was going to Dune - meet Paul Atriedes and ride a worm.

Twila was not as enamoured with Jaisalmer as I was, it just this little city in the Thar desert why would I want to go there?  The next thing I know she is besides herself because she thinks I want to go there to go on a camel safari.  That did not enter my mind once.  I have never had any desire to ride a camel for ten minutes let alone two days.  My response was non committal, umm let me check it out.

Well I went on line and read about the safari.  They talked about camping in the desert, they showed pictures of tents and cots, but no bathrooms.  No bathroom, that is a problem.  I am a middle aged woman, I do not squat.  I called her and said umm I don't know, I don't think they have bathrooms, I think we will have to go in the sand.

Oh think of the adventure she crooned, so much fun.  When will you ever be able to go on such an adventure.  We will never be able to do it again.  Plus I am sure they will have bathrooms, this is a very popular activity for westerners, can you see a bunch of wealthy old people squatting around in the sand.  It will be fine, relax.

I thought she was wrong.  I thought no I am going to end up with a bladder infection.  But I relented, I actually compromised because I really really wanted to see Jaisalmer.

As our travels ensued we encountered more and more people who had gone to Jaisalmer and done the Camel Safari.  They complained that they were taken to permanent camps with bathroom and showers and how commercial it was.  Every time someone told us that Twila would turn to me and say see no worries.

But I was worried.  I had this sinking feeling that that was not the Camel Safari we were on.  I continued to dread the Camel Safari, and worried worried worried.

The night before the Safari we ran into a threesome from Boulder who had just done the Safari and they had said it was wonderful, blah blah blah, but they would have preferred something more authenticate.   I still did not believe this was the safari we were doing so Twila and I had a bet.  It is the first time in my life I was hoping and praying that I would lose this particular bet.

Finally the day came, we got up had breakfast and made our way to our host for the next two days.  I was actually beginning to feel a bit more hopeful about the accomodations, and decided that I was at least going to enjoy what I could.

As Twila had told you the camels were not where they were suppose to be and it was the first time that I saw the driver with his hands on his hips looking around.  That was the first inkling that I got that this was not going to be a luxury trip into the desert.

End of Part One
MS 2

Safari - Part 2

After lunch, we climbed gamely back onto our camels and headed out into the vast desert. We ambled along watching antelope lope by, counting different types of plants, but mostly trying to stay on our camels as they swerved time and again into shrubs and trees to knock the increasing number of flies  off their bodies. Tanya, you might recall, was one with Raju, so the swerving did not seem to bother her. Badel and I, on the other hand, had a few disagreements about how much swerving was acceptable.

Some time in the late afternoon, a house, or more accurately a compound, appeared out of nowhere and we veered toward it.  No explanation was offered, so we sort of assumed this would be our "hotel" for the night.  It was actually a village farm that belonged to one of Durga's distant relatives.  In India, everyone is a brother or an uncle or a cousin, or an auntie, so it is impossible to sort out true relationships.  No matter.  The place belonged to someone Durga knows.

We were given a tour of the complex: the orignal mud home built some time before the birth of Christ if I understood correctly; the cement home added some five years ago; the village water tank supplied and filled by the government; the goat pen etc etc.

In the midst of our tour, I heard an unholy shriek. It seemed to be coming from MS2. I looked at her and followed her eyes to a giant rat running around the courtyard.  I turned back to our guide, pretending that I had heard no shriek.  But then MS2 transported herself, Startrek fashion, to the otherside of the courtyard. A dance of sorts ensued. The rat ran toward MS2 and MS2 made a squeak and transported herself to another corner of the courtroom.  Meanwhile, Durga is observing this behavior with a perplexed expression on his face. I tried to engage him in a conversation about Indian politics, but he can't take his eyes off MS2 and her strange antics.  Oh, and every time MS2 passes by my ear, she hisses, "I am *NOT* staying here!"

Fortunately, the rat eventually ran out of the courtyard and even more fortunately, I guess, Durga ordered us back on our camels.

End of Part 2

MS1

Sarafi!

Here's the thing. We planned to go off into the Thar Desert, which I believe is the second largest in the world. What better way to do it than on a camel. I did a little digging and found out that every grandma and her mother goes on a camel safari into the Thar Desert.  I also learned that it was possible to arrange a safari for just MS2 and me, a couple of camels, a camel handler and a tracker.  More authentic, I thought, so I said, "That one!"

The long-awaited day arrived and our tracker, Durga, was right on time. We headed off to our rendezvous with the camel guy and spent the next 20 minutes driving up and down the back streets of Jaisalmer, looking for our camels.  At this point, a tiny bit of doubt crept into my mind. How can a camel safari guy lose his camels before we even get out into the desert?  But I pushed the thought out of my head and soon we spot them lumbering down the street --  Raju and Badel and their handler!

MS2 took a flying leap onto Raju and was one with him within the hour. Badel, a bit of a rebel, suited me just fine.  Deep in the desert around mid morning we spotted Durga up ahead, arms akimbo. He signaled for us to stop. He trotted up to a fenced building and came back post haste with the announcement that we would not be able to pass through this farmer's land.  Unfortunately the farmer owned the largest plot of land in the Thar Desert, or so it seemed. Poor Durga explained apologetically that he had just been out here last year and for sure the farm was nowhere to be seen at that time.

That's ok. Lunch at three was fine with us, although our butts might have wanted an earlier break.  MS2 and I lolled under a beautiful ____ tree, while Durga and the camel team prepared our lunch. Lovely and decadent!

End of Part 1

MS1

Yes

Train rides are very tiring, and by the time we reach our destination I am pretty much a zombie.  This last train ride we ended in Amritsar at 11 pm and by the time we found our driver had a little scuffle tried to communicate with said driver I was done for the day.

We reach our destination and the porter comes running out and says ...blah blah blah.  So I say yes.  Twila turns to me and says did you understand him.  I look at her a little chagrined and say no.  She then turns to the porter and said do not talk to her she does not understand you - only talk to me.

The poor guy looked horror struck, but he said yes.  Then Twila said what did you just tell her.  He smiled and said yes.

Poor Twila, she realized at that point that I had gone Native.

Suffering through indignities

No, I'm not talking about me. It is MS2 who has had to suffer multiple indignities on this trip. How has she fared? I will say that good humor has prevailed through each and every incident. In other words, MS2 suffered the indignity and everyone around her laughed -- with abundant good humor. Some examples: 

Indignity #1: With occasional exceptions, MS2 has had to answer over and over again the question, "Who is older, you or your sister?" She has had to respond without sinking her fangs into the neck of the inquirer.  No fangs have appeared so far, but the first couple of times, her response ran along the lines of "WHAT?" and "You're joking, right?" and "Seriously?"  Eventually it was, "SHE is older.  SHE is.  A LOT older!"

Indignity #2:  MS2 is the only young-looking middle aged american woman to have her ass nibbled by a camel at the Pushkar camel fair. The indignity did not go unremarked, primarily because MS2 screamed bloody murder. I turned around ready to swat a purse thief with my own hefty bag and came face to face with a camel instead.  Good laugh all around.

Indignity #3: MS2 does not like to be bothered by children hard-selling cheap bangles, pashimina scarves made of polyester, and...get this...camel rides on "friendly" camels.  She says "no" over and over again, which simply attracts bigger and bigger crowds of pitch-kids. She gives up and turns to me with pleading eyes.  I say "Nahin chaiye," and the children disappear.  (No it does not mean, "get out of here or I'll slit your throat.")

India would be waaaaayyyyyyyyy less fun without MS2 at my side.

MS1

Ajmer

So everyone keeps asking if I am shocked by the change in Ajmer.  I really do not remember Ajmer except for the small part that I lived in.  To me the city was big and loud and brash.  Now when I walked done the streets of Ajmer I find it big and loud and brash.  So I guess no I am not shocked by the change.

My most vivid memories of Ajmer was the wide open space - the hills that were mountains to me, and being on the edge of town, more part of the country side instead of Ajmer proper.  My memories of walking those hills that looked like mountains, wondering what I would do if I came upon a snake, or any other wild animal.  I wondered, but I never encountered.  It was all pretty tame.  Across the street the Hedges lived, and it was every morning I would get up and hope that they would finish their lessons early so we could play, but even if they weren't done I would still run across the street and wait patiently for them to come out to play.

I developed a feeling for the the land that I have never been able to recapture, a sense of wonder and a sense of belonging.  It was a mystical or magical feeling I am not sure which, but whatever it was it was a treasure that I have taken with me throughout my life.

So back in this land of beauty I look at those hills and remember what it was to be ten and filled with wonder.  Do I have the same feelings as I did at ten - no, but now I have something different, something to take with me to remember for the next forty years, a sense of peace, of belonging - of coming home.    

Tigers and bears and nothing oi

We arrived at Ranthambore at about 12 noon, and got settled into our tent *yes a very very luxurious tent* and immediately headed out for our afternoon safari.  The safari was a jeep into the Ranthambore    tiger preserve, and as we got into the jeep our safari partners started to argue with the driver about not wanting to come.  I looked at Twila and asked if I smelled that bad, but she hushed me as she eavesdropped in.

According to Twila they had just done this route that we were doing in the morning and they wanted another route because they did not see a single tiger, and they had already seen all the scenery on this route.  I mean come on once you have seen a jungle path once it is forever imprinted and it would just be so boring to see it again.  I mean it is static right?

But they acquiesced and got in the jeep and we drove out to the park. However, they informed us we were going the wrong way, so maybe we were going to pick up some more people.  I was feeling that we had two too many as it was, but oh well.  We drove for about ten minutes and they stopped and told the couple to get out.  I was like oh my god they are going to shoot them - I am never going to complain again.  But instead they tried to find a different route for them.  But nobody wanted them so they piled back into our jeep and off we went.

But we did make one additional stop at another hotel to pick up a lady.  So we crowded five people into a four seat jeep.  Thank goodness for Twila.

From the moment this woman from the other hotel got into the jeep until we dropped her off four hours later that woman did not shut up.  It is no wonder that we did not see a tiger, I mean the jungle was filled with Magpies I am sure the tigers weren't interested in one more.

So no tiger or bears, but lots of monkeys and deer, but we can see all the monkeys we want in Ajmer and deer, well we have lots of those in CA - but Magpies now that was something new.     

The train ride from H*** Part II and on

So much has happened since that train ride, so I will just give a synopsis and move on.

We get on the train dragging our two hundred pounds of suitcases and I go to the compartment I am suppose to be in and low and behold there are twelve people in this four person compartment.  So I throw my stuff on Twila's upper bunk, only to have the guy who has the bunk tell me it is his and to move it.  During all of this my suitcase is taking up the entire aisle and people are getting frustrated and start walking over my suitcase.  Meanwhile the conductor is trying to steal Twila's bedding and there is a tussle that ensues as he is trying to grab it out of her hands and she is saying no no mine.  Finally she wrenches the bedding out of his hands and sits on it.  He looks at her turns around and takes my bedding.  The next thing I know Twila is sitting on my bedding too.  Thank you sister.

So we finally face the family of twelve and tell them that we have the upper bunk and we need to put our suitcase under the seat.  They are most accommodating and help me place it under the seat then they tell me four of them will be leaving in the next couple of stops so not to worry.

Meanwhile the upper bunk mate of Twila goes and joins them, and the conductor comes and kicks him out of the seat.  All this time I am sitting with Twila watching a rat run from compartment to compartment.

Since I have taken his seat he says do you want the upper bunk?  I say yes and he crawls up into my bunk with the family of twelve.  So Twila and I get the upper and lower together.  Happiness.

Until the person in the compartment next to us drops his dinner on the floor and leaves it there.  At that point in time I think it is best to get as far away from the food as possible. I know where that rat will be while I sleep, yes I do.  With that I took four sleeping pills and prayed for morning.

MS2

Baksheesh

Our driver for the Jaipur-Ajmer-Jodhpur legs of our trip (about 11 days) is one Daulat Singh. He is a soft-spoken, middle-aged man of limited English, but he has the heart of a mother tigress.  We have received many lectures about strangers to whom we should not speak, places to which we should and should not venture, and food we should and should not eat.  He routinely locks all the doors when we enter a "dangerous"  neighborhood.

   He is also very solicitous (or should I say generous?)  when it comes to bathroom breaks and tea breaks.  In fact, yesterday we hadn't been on the road for an hour before he suggested a tea break.  I said, "No thanks, we're good."  He tried a couple more times so I said, "Do you need tea, Daulat?"  He stretched his right arm above his head and said, "Yes, sometimes get very tired driving. Need tea."  Well of course I don't want him falling asleep at the wheel, so I said "Yes, yes, let's have tea." So we did.  But then on the way out, he spoke a couple of words to the proprietor who ducked under the counter and came back up with an eggbeater which he presented to Daulat.

   "Holiday gift!" he beamed. (We are still celebrating Dewali, I guess.)  And off we went.

   A couple of hours later he asked if we wanted to stop at a very nice textile factory on the way to Ajmer.  We demurred.  He pointed out, in very unpushy tones, that factory prices are very good.  We demurred again.  So what could he do?  He fessed up. He said that he receives a gift when he delivers a potential customer to the factory (or teahouse or restaurant or ....).  He said, "If you no like, no buy. Just look 10 minutes and then go."  So that's what we did. And when we came back to the car he showed us his new 32 piece dinnerware set.  

   He was absolutely "made up" (happy)! He jumped back in the car and said, "Now Ajmer. No stops."  And then we were made up too.

MS1

Animals in Asia

I admit I am not an animal lover.  That's not to say I don't find it interesting to observe them, but I have no need whatsoever to take them into my home, feed them, nurse them, save them.  

   While in Bhutan, I  was reminded of my minority status in this regard.  I observed aghast as MS2 and our beloved Black Foot gypsy guide attempted to feed all of the stray dogs in Paro.  I watched with pursed lips and furrowed brow as a pack of dogs swarming these two gentle women grew larger and larger. I feared the dogs might not realize these are good-hearted animal lovers and I worried that this charitable act might be MS2's last. 

She did get bit, but she survived. We don't have the rabies test results yet. (Ok ok, don't panic. It didn't break the skin.)

   Also in Bhutan, all of my compatriots were ooh-ing and ah-ing over each and every monkey.  Mind you, these were *wild* monkeys. With every monkey sighting 16 - 1 (the *1* being yours truly) people would take chase, camera in one hand, banana in another.  Good grief.   Little did they know that if they caught up to the creature, a battle might well ensue and I can assure you, the monkey would win.

   Today I was reminded that my feelings about monkeys are shared by 1 billion people.  All of the people of India.  I was taking a photo through an open window in Jaipur's Amber Palace when all of a sudden a monkey face appeared in my viewer.  The monkey had jumped up onto the window frame and was still coming full steam ahead!  I hollered and took off. What's more, everyone else in the room (all Indian) hollered and fled along with me.  

I have found my people.

MS1

The train ride from H***

So my first train ride was a bit of shock Oh my the bathroom stinks and the compartment is not clean, but I managed and we arrived in Darjeeling in one piece.  So when we went to board the train from Darjeeling to Varanasi things well things just kind of fell apart.

First thing was the "executive asst" told us that we had to be there three hours early.  That was a bit of a problem for me since I had developed ahem bathroom issues, so I wasn't prepared to leave the hotel (which was lovely I might add) at 10 in the morning like he wanted us too.  So we talked to the driver and left at noon instead.  Our train was to leave at five fifteen and it was suppose to be a two and a half our drive to the station, but we figured that it would be more like three and a half hours so yes plenty of time.

We did not arrive at the station until 4 pm and as we pulled up we asked where the "executive assistant" was going to meet us.  No, we were told nobody was going to meet us.  Nobody was going to make sure we got on the train, nobody was going to make sure we got on the right compartment.

I was a bit more panicked then Twila since Twila had been wait listed and I had a bunk.  What if I got on and she did not?  I told her I was not going to travel without her, so if she did not go I was not going to go, and she could not take my seat and leave me behind.  But Tiger Paw had got her a bunk so all was good, at least on that count.

Twila kept asking the driver where are we going, how many platforms where are we suppose to go, how do we know which train, how do we know which compartment.  He was very little help since he did not speak english, but he spoke enough to tell us he could not park there and he had to go.

So abandoned and alone Twila said we can figure it out, there are only three platforms.  Actually there were six platforms, and only one of them had a ramp.  So I am praying that the platform we want is the one with the ramp.

So Twila goes up to the first person who she thinks speaks english and asks what platform we should be on.  Well he did not speak that much english, but soon she had a crowd around her all trying to help her.  We finally figured out that we had to wait until they called the train to figure the platform.  So we sat at the top of the stairs getting our hopes up that it would be the one with the ramp.  Guess what, it wasn't.

The reason I wanted the ramp was because our suitcases combined weigh about 200 pounds (we are allowed 44 pounds a piece, but we have been collecting presents you lucky people you.)  So Twila said you go down first and go very slowly.  When I got to the bottom she informed me that I did not have to go that slow, but truth be told I was going as fast as I could.

So the compartments are displayed on the board, and we were A1.  The train is about a mile long, so I told Twila I would run to one end of the platform and see if A1 was down there while she protected the luggage.  Well it wasn't,  so I went running back to Twila and said I think we have to go the other way, but she already had that information.  As usual as I ran up to her she had a group of people around her saying I will help I  will show you were to go.

So he showed where A-1 was flashing, and the train pulls in and it is chaos, I push my way to A1 and Twila asks someone if that is A-1 and they say no no I will show you the right car.  Yikes I almost got on the wrong car.  And I never would have known.  Really I would not have known.

End of Part One

MS2

Blogs...

...are so much fun when they are followed by terrific, funny and interesting comments. Thanks guys, you are terrific blog commenters! We look forward every day to finding out what you have to say.  See, here is MS1 reading your comments. QED!

Oops. Couldn't get the photo onto the blog for some reason. Trust me, she had a big beautiful grin on her face.

Oh Calcutta Redux

In my limited experience, I have found that all of the western world is afraid of Calcutta. Afraid of the dirt. Afraid of the beggars. Afraid of the poverty. Afraid of lepers and people dying in the streets. Afraid of being fleeced by some slick Indian scam artist.

Phooey on all that.  I myself approach Calcutta without fear, and I hold all Indians with which I have dealings to a high standard. Here's an example: For some reason, I was absolutely determined to see the flower market along the Hooghly River.  And I stubbornly insisted that I wanted to see it in the morning light. So we made a date with our driver for the morning after our arrival.  Lo and behold, a surprise November storm dumped bucketloads of water on the streets of Calcutta at dawn. Fortunately, the rain had stopped by the time our driver showed up. However, the driver had brought his boss along to explain to us that we should not go to the flower market because it was "very dirty, very dirty indeed."

He didn't fool me one bit. I just knew he wanted to yank our pre-paid driver away from us to haul around some other tourists.  I call that double dipping and I was having none of it.

"I *really* want to go to the flower market," I told the boss man. "And I don't mind the dirt."  Meanwhile, MS2 is throwing frowns in my direction, followed by the sensible-sounding words, "Maybe we should take his word for it."

"Balderdash!" I said,  and off we went.

Before long the driver pulled over and said that the flower market was "just down this alley. I'll wait here."

Three determined steps later, I was ankle deep in mud.  I managed to take about six more steps before  I was clobbered by a flower cart, probably because I couldn't get my feet out of the mud fast enough to jump out of the way. The cart left muddy wheel tracks all over the back of my legs.  Because I'm not afraid of Calcutta, I'm claiming it was mud.  Not yak poop. Not people poop. Not rotten stinking garbage.  Just plain old mud.

When our driver saw me approach the car covered in mud, he nearly doubled over in laughter. I looked over at MS2 for some sympathy, but all I saw in her eyes was barely-contained mirth.

I'm still not afraid of Calcultta though.

The first train ride

So the last day in Kolkata was fun, we walked around, saw some mud did some shopping and sat at the hotel for a couple of hours.  I was tired, so I thought that the first train ride would be fairly easy.  But things did not go as planned...

First Twila got a lecture from our guide that she was suppose to tip the driver. Unbeknownst to him she had already given the driver a huge tip plus a gift.  Then I was suppose to give the guide a tip.  I had 500 rupees in my pocket to give him, but I also had two ten rupees.  I found out when I went to tip the people who brought up our luggage today that I had given him a ten and not the 500.  Oh well he was rude anyway.

But when I entered the train compartment I was like this can not be first class.  It just could not be.  I was ready to cry.  Twila went searching for the bathroom for me and came back to tell me that they only had Indian toilets no western toilets.  At that point I almost got off the train.  How was I going to go for 12 hours without using the damn bathroom.  I felt the tears welling up and I was feeling very sorry for myself.  Further, it was not a pleasant smell.  As Ted knows, I am very very sensitive about smell.  Me and JFK.

Then Twila said that she was going to the bathroom before she went to bed, and when she came back she told me that there was a western toilet.  You can not imagine my relief.  Suddenly everything was okay, and I was not feeling so bad anymore.  Even the smell started to disappear.  l knew that would happen since my dog has been skunked a couple of times.

I couldn't fall asleep in the beginning so I took some sleeping pills and listened to my book on tapes.  Every time I would start to doze off I would hear myself snore then I would wake up.  Twila said that I was snoring like a long shoreman, I guess I kept everyone up in the compartment.  She had told me that some of the people in the compartment might be a little portly and they might snore, but believe me snoring doesn't bother me.  After 22 years with Teddy bear I find snoring to be white noise.  But I guess I made some snide comment about snoring and she thought it was funny that I was the only one snoring.  Oh well it was par for the whole experience.

I woke up about 6 and  trepidly made my way to the bathroom.  It was seriously not what I would like to use on a regular basis, but I did not drink anything for the train ride so I didn't have much output.  I think I can put up with it once a day.  I just might get a little dehydrated on the train days, but that is okay.

Twila asked if I wanted to go home.  At that point on the train was the first time that I regretted the trip.  That I just wanted to throw in the towel and say forget it.  I could have gone my whole life without experiencing an Indian train ride, but now I know what it is and what to expect, I don't think I will have any more problems with the train.  I am adaptable.  I just lowered my expectation - all is good.

The Bhutanese Penis

Oooooh, I'll bet everyone is going to read *this* blog.

For those who don't know (and I imagine that would include all of you -- and me before I came to Bhutan), the biggest (figuratively speaking) good luck charm in Bhutan is the phallus.  You might think that such a charm might be carried in one's pocket, as the Japanese are/were wont to do. Or perhaps it would be tucked under a pillow, or hung on a door frame.

No indeed. In Bhutan, the phallus...hmmmm...the penis, actually, is displayed in all of its anatomically correct, erect, and immense glory on the facades of the houses.  Imagine a billboard-sized penis with semen spewing out the top.

As our group of 16 middle-aged hiker/cyclists pulled into Paro and came eye-to-eye with our first Bhutanese penis, a symphony of tittering erupted from the seats of our van. You'd think we were a bunch of high school kids, when in fact we were a bunch of staid professionals with penis envy.

MS1

Oh Calcutta

So I was so excited when we landed in Kolkata I couldn't contain myself.  As we drove to the hotel I was amazed at the traffic and the honking.  The honking it just never ceased.  And they don't seem to follow any traffic rules.

In Bhutan they didn't have any rules, and I was amazed at how they were able to drive on one lane roads.  Really there was only one lane, and sometimes that lane was taken up by the cows or the horses or the dogs.  And the cars would patiently wait for the cows, horses or dogs to move so they could drive by.  They also had people who walked in the middle of the road, but when the car would come by the would move over.  All very civilized and polite.

Now we come to India.  People don't wait their turn, they don't move over and they certainly are not polite and civilized.   There were a few times that I was sure that we were going to die.  *Wait wait you can not drive now the light is red.*   I am thinking that those lights are just for show, getting ready for Christmas.

But I was prepared for that, I was not prepared to be in a shake down.  I was in the car totally enjoying the flavor of the place when a policeman pulled over our driver.  I had heard about this before I had come so I knew what was happening.  I told Twila that it was a shake down because they saw as in the back seat, but she insisted that the driver had done something wrong.

Unfortunately I was right, it was a shake down, and as we were driving off they pulled another car over and started it all over again.  Okay I read about it, but I never in my life thought it would happen to me.  And what was worse then the shake down to me was the fact that they felt that they could go through his car.  They opened the glove compartments, looked under his dash, under the seat, in every nook and cranny you can think of.  It was horrible.   The injustice of it made me realize how lucky we are.

Then we went to the Temple of Kali and I had another shake down.    But that is another story.

MS2

Tigers Nest

Yesterday we traveled to the most beautiful place high in the foothills *10,000 feet* to Tigers Nest.  Twila has had a bit of Tanyaitis as she has worried about the climb for the past year.  Liz, our group leader, kept telling her that she thought that she could do it, but Twila was not so sure.  As we were hiking up, Twila kept saying that she would wait for me at the Tea House, and Liz kept saying no just come and try it.

Well I am happy to inform you that she did make it to the very tip top and she made it without a panic attack.  Me on the other hand...

I couldn't believe how many people - young and old - on the trail, and believe me it was not an easy walk.  Three miles up three miles down.  By the time I  hit the hay I was exhausted.

But before we went to bed the group had a closing ceremony so to speak and they showed all the pictures they took during the week.  I was horrified at the pictures of me.  I of course did not pay much attention to anyone else's photos, I know Twila thinks I am vain, but I really am not.  It just that I know what everyone else looks like, I just don't know what I look like *unlike my darling sisterS I do not preen in front of every mirror.*

Today was a low key day, we went to the market, I caught the interest of three girls all with horrible running noses (Twila was shopping I was having stomach issues) and all I could think of as I sat talking to them was when was I going to get sick.   But we did have a nice chat and I got a good picture of them that I will post when I figure out how to post from the camera to the IPad.

We went for a tiny hike, and are trying to get rested for the onslaught that will follow for the next 25 days.  I am only hoping that my stomach will last that long.

So comes the end of the luxury part of the trip.  Who knows when I will have a clean bed or bathroom.   I am going to look up on the Internet to see what type of accommodations AC2 will be on our overnight trips.  This maybe the last time anyone hears from me, so I bid you all farewell.

MS2

Buddhism, Monks and Monasteries

Yes, perhaps MS2 is trying to teach me to be more zen-like, but note the following: One of the tenents of good practice is to be positive. You will recall that a monk grabbed MS2's hand while she was walking down the streets of Thimphu.  She told our lovely French Blackfoot Buddhist guide, Nathalie, about the encounter and Nathalie said (without hesitation) that the monk saw a beautiful soul walking down the street and wanted to make a connection. MS2 also told another of our guides and you know what he said.  So which version did MS2 report to the world?  Hmmmmmm. I'm thinking she needs more mindful practice.

   Nonetheless, I have never doubted for a moment that MS2 is more spiritual than I.  Until today, that is.  Today we climbed to Tiger's Nest Monastery, the holiest place in Bhutan. While there we were invited to test our spirtuality.  The test involves closing your eyes, walking toward a rock with a small hole in the face and placing your thumb in the hole.  Our entire group lined up, each hoping to prove to the group that he or she was the most spiritual of all.

   Thumbs went everywhere, but not into the hole...until yours truly had her turn.  Eyes closed, two steps forward, thumb directly into the hole.  Everyone gasped and looked at me with freshly respectful eyes, except for MS2 who shouted, "She probably had her eyes open!"

MS1

Left behind again

Yesterday was a big riding day, and as usual I was a very nervous nellie.  We were cycling the Ha Valley, which only recently opened up to visitors so it was very special ride.  I did my usual moan and groan about the hill and the fear that I wouldn't be able to keep up, so I told Twila that she should just ride ahead of me and not worry about me and I would not worry about slowing her down.

She said that the only way that she would leave me is if she got in a rhythm and then she would meet me at the top of the hill.  Well needless to say she got into a rhythm and I did not see her until the end of the ride.

Now I know that she is trying to teach me to say what I really mean, and from there she will take everything I say at face value, but I am trying to teach her the Zen way and look for hidden meaning in all  - you  know I am making her a more enlightened being by making her search for the answers - right?  Anyway Karma got her with a flat tire.  See if she had stayed with me she most certainly would not have a flat tire.  Karma.

Left behind

So I woke with numb fingers and a very upset stomach.  MS1 says I should rename the blog adventures in bathrooms but I don't think that is quite fair.

Nevertheless I found that I just couldn't go on the current excursion and ended up in the bathroom just as they were starting to leave.  But within ten minutes I felt fine and went running down hoping to catch them but they were gone.

I went back up to the room and just cried feeling very sorry for myself.  Here I was in the most beautiful country inn the world and I was stuck in the damn hotel room.    I am very nervous person and Twila had locked the money and the ID in her suitcase and I didn't have her combo and   I just didn't have the guts to go out in foreign country by myself with no money and no ID.

But then I remembered that I had a copy of my passport in the suitcase.   I was filled with joy I could go out exploring and not worry about having a heart attack and no one knowing who I was.

So off I went thinking Thimphu is a one street town I can wander around for a while but stay close enough that if an emergency should arise I would be close to the hotel.  Well I managed to get horribly lost and a ten minute walk around the block ended up an hour.

I finally found the hotel, and decided that I would have an adventure anyway.  *I was a bit panicked when I couldn't find the stupid hotel, so the adventure in my eyes didn't start until after I knew how to get back home.*  I didn't need no stinkin tour company around to have a good time, so I decided I would walk until there were no more sidewalks, or until I got to India whichever came first.

In my travels a monk came up to me and grabbed my hand and just sat holding it.  I found it rather disconcerting and wondered if I was suppose to do something.  Later I asked our resident tour guide what it meant and he said that even some Monks were crazy.  Lucky me.

I did finally run out of sidewalk and it was a good thing too.  I did not take water with me, and I became very very parched.  I didn't make it to India - I think that is a good thing.

MS2