Kashmiri Kahwa

Last night I was introduced to the wonder of Kashmiri Kahwa. I'm sure you are wondering "How did that happen?" and "What exactly are you talking about?" I joined a few friends at Dilli Haat, an outdoor craft market, where one of them has a scarf seller she is friendly with. I'm sure you can see where this is going. He showed us the best place to eat dinner and then joined us to give us a taste of his home. Now I can say I might have found my favorite drink in India. While I heard some of the legend behind the drink I'm sad to say I can't really remember any of them today. I do remember that we were told part of the name comes from wanting to say "Wah" after drinking a cup. So what is in Kahwa? It is a base of saffron boiled in water, with cardamon and cinammon. Sugar and almond slivers are added to the hot tea and then you are ready to enjoy. There is a rough recipe here if you want to try it for yourself (which I highly recommend).

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! You won't hear from me again until I get back from travels to Cambodia and Bangkok.

Lodi Gardens

After doing a bit of shopping with a friend in the Tibetan market and going to Gandhi Smriti, which happens to be closed every second Saturday, Doreen and I decided we should take advantage of the relatively clear skies and go take a walk in Lodi Gardens. Created in 1939 by the wife of one of the British viceroys, Lady Willingdon, they are quite a large green space (for being in the center of New Delhi) which is well used by families on nice days. As we walked around there were groups of boys playing cricket, several birthday parties going on, a multitude of picnics and plenty of kids chasing after large balloons. I was thrilled just to find some green space where I wasn't bothered because I was a foreigner, and also fascinated by the Lodi and Mughal remains that are scattered around the park. Right by the entrance we used was the tomb of Sikandar Lodi (1517) who was the second ruler in the Lodi dynasty and reigned over the Sultanate of Delhi from 1489-1517. His tomb was enclosed behind some still standing walls and surrounded by a lovely green space. As we walked a little farther we came across a small turret standing alone which is thought to have been a part of old walls no longer standing. Across from there was a cluster of old ruins. The first we came to was the Sheesh Gumbad, a mosque also dating from the Lodi time period, with blue tile finishing and the tombs of an unknown family inside provided space for children to play. If you looked out the main door you could see the Bada Gumbad which the sign said was also from the Lodi time period and served as a gateway of some sort. This building, perched on top of a built up rock pile, sported more detailed etching than the others. A meander down a few more paths brought us to what I could only consider one of the defining sights in Delhi, that I had seen in pictures but could never place, the tomb of Muhammad Shah Sayyid (1445) the last Sultan of the Sayyid dynasty (the dynasty preceding the Lodi dynasty). It is ringed by a row of stick straight trees, an expanse of green and then the hill rises up which holds the tomb. An octagonal shaped tomb it is bounded by an arched walkway and topped by numerous domes. It is a bit inspiring to consider the architecture of past years and just how durable they built their monuments. But mostly it was just nice to be able to take a deep breath and relax in some of Delhi's green space.

Going out for dinner

A yummy meal! (photo from Sharon)

We set off into the small winding streets of downtown Amritsar to find the number one rated restaurant on TripAdvisor, Kesar Da Dhabu. Our taxis took us as far as possible and then, luckily, one of the drivers walked us the rest of the way there. I'm not at all sure we would have found this little hole in the wall without his help. We walked into a completely empty concrete room holding long tables and stools. The guys seemed happy to see us as we set off on a communication adventure to order food (they spoke only Hindi and us only English). We eventually ended up with two bottles of cold water and ordered food - we weren't sure what or how much would come out, but surely it would be good. Quite quickly three trays arrived at the table - food to share between two people on each one. Two rounds of fried bread, hand cracked by the boy serving us, was accompanied by three bowls - a dal fry (lentils) in one, a curried chickpea dish in the second, and a yogurt garlic mix in the last. Sharon and I made quick work of our food practically cleaning out every dish and putting the others to shame. Yum! The rest of the group ended with an almond custard and after much debate ate the silver covering which was not (?) tin foil.

After dinner we went next door to take a glimpse into their kitchen and were warmly invited in and encouraged to take photos. In fact they insisted on a photo of everyone including the dishwasher. We marveled at the huge pots (and ladles) for the dal. Were amused that the men in charge of the bread were seated cross legged on the counter - two working with the dough while the third sat over a sunken vat of hot oil dropping dough in and then fishing it back out with two long sticks. The guy by the door was responsible for the sweets. There were anther couple of men inside - one just peeling a pile of onions and others cooking. They were quite proud of their little operation, which churned out tasty food, while those who were with me were quite glad they hadn't seen the kitchen before we ate. Me, I haven't gotten sick, so it can go down as a delicious and memorable meal.

Jan, Tony and I enjoying our meal (photo from Sharon)

The Golden Temple

At a busy circle the taxi driver calmly announced "This is as far as I can take you." and so we piled out of the car to stand by the sidewalk. There was no doubt in my mind we were close to the right place. As soon as we stepped out of the car there were guys trying to sell us head coverings in bright orange or plain white and there was a steady stream of people heading down the street. Hmmm....I think we'll go that way too. Past a few barricades and with several warnings to hold our bags safely we suddenly realized that off to the left was a giant shoe depository, after all no shoes or socks are allowed in the temple grounds. Okay. So the five women plop their shoes on the counter and receive a number in exchange while Tony has to head to the other side to join a men's line.  We then continue to walk along the road, which now has a burlap path laid down over it to protect the feet a bit. At a slightly formal gate I wrap my scarf to cover my head and we enter the Golden Temple complex, although I still don't see anything golden.

After walking through a basin of water to clean our feet we are allowed up a set of stairs, through a grand entrance and suddenly there it is. Standing proudly in the middle of a pool of water is the Golden Temple, otherwise known as Harmandir Sahib. And yes, it is golden. Surrounded by an immense courtyard of white marble the only color comes from the water and the golden shine of the temple itself. Well, until you consider the colorful clothing and head coverings of the visitors.

It becomes clear that foreign tourists are not a common vision for many of the people here as we are stopped time and again and asked to take a photo with an Indian. I don't mind so much with the women but after a  while it gets old and we adopt a don't stop policy to keep the requests down to a minimum.

We slowly make progress around the square. Gawking at the brightly turbaned men prostrating themselves in prayer, smiling at the mom washing her son in the holy water, trying to avoid seeing too many men stripping down to underwear to bathe, being impressed by the blue and yellow spear carrying guards while always keeping an eye on the temple.

Having walked three sides of the square we find ourselves facing the entrance of the temple itself and join the line on the bridge waiting to get in. it is surprisingly calm and orderly and moves at a steady pace. The flow of people is regulated by men raising and lowering an orange clothe wrapped rod. The pushes increase a bit once you get past that as everyone wants in. The ground floor had an enclosed space which had several people reading/praying, a group of men playing a type of accordion as background music to the man chanting into the microphone (is that what has been broadcast around the whole complex?). I'm not really clear what was going on and I had no one to ask as we were quickly swept out the next door.  On the backside was a small stairway leading up which opened into a hallway circling a square allowing you to look down on what was happening on the ground floor. On one end was a man sitting behind a giant (and I do mean giant - wide as my arm span at least) book reading. Up another flight of stairs and I emerged onto the roof of the temple. Amid the golden domed trim I glimpsed down at the sacred pond (which gives Amritsar its name) and across to the white marble structure circling the temple grounds. Under a small pavilion was another group of Sikh worshipers praying as yet another large book was being read out of.

As I made my way back down the stair and across the bridge I found myself pondering how despite having many questions and making it to the holiest site in the Sikh religion I sill didn't know much more than before I arrived. If anything I just had more questions. I also couldn't help but notice how, just like with the other holy places I visited, no matter the religion, this one carried a calm and peaceful air.

I returned later that night for a glimpse of the temple lit up in the dark. There were not as many lights as I expected. I suppose because all of the gold reflects the light easily. We poked our heads into the communal kitchen which serves a free meal to anyone who walks in. This makes me wonder if there are any starving people in Amritsar. There shouldn't be, and honestly I don't remember seeing many beggars in the city. So I suppose they have a pretty successful service program here at the holiest site in Sikhism.

Closing the border

 Thanksgiving provided a three day weekend (yes we worked Thursday) and another chance to do a bit more traveling in India. I headed northwest by train to Amritsar with five friends for two days full of adventure. The next several posts will give you an idea of the experiences we had.

After a 30 minute drive we start passing a long line of trucks parked on the side of the road. And I do mean a long line - stretching over a kilometer. They clearly weren't going to make it through the border before it closed for the night and would be sleeping in their trucks tonight. Soon enough we begin to drive past streams of people walking the same direction we're going. There is a hop in their step and everyone looks excited to be going. It is hard not to get caught up in the excitement which is added to by the boys selling little Indian flags and DVDs of the border closing ceremony, popcorn and drink hawkers along with other street food sellers. It feels a bit like we're headed to a movie or a soccer game. For once being a woman means a quicker line through security as there are probably ten times more men then women. Then we slip through a gate towards VIP seating thanks to our foreign passports and head over to the concrete grandstands which flank either side of the road. To our right is an arch topped by a photo of Gandhi and then a packed crowd of Indian men, along with some school children dancing in the street. To the left are the truly VIP seats (seats, not concrete steps), the closed gates (yes plural - one says India and behind it the other says Pakistan) and then you're looking over the border to the Pakistan grandstands and their arch (with the picture of who?).

Not too long after we arrive someone brings out a microphone and gets the crowd to chanting. Mostly it is "Hindistan...Zindiban" (or something close to that, we asked but I've forgotten exactly what we were told). Then some long drawn out wails that sound suspiciously like the South American "Gooooooooolll" herald the start of the show at the Attari Border. First up are two fast marching women who do high kicks as they reach the gate and stand at attention on either side of the road. Then more wailing; two men almost sprint march down the road. When another (more) offical man arrives at the gate sporting the red pleated mohawk hat like the other men, the Indian gate is swung open and the Pakistan one slides to the side. The border is open, and I can't help but think that this is as close as I'll ever get to Pakistan.

Lots of marching, high stepping and stomping follow; Pakistani and Indian soldiers sort of try to stare each other down. Some complicated rituals later, along with a lot of cheering and chanting on both sides of the border, the elaborate flag lowering ceremony begins. Elaborate to ensure that the flags are lowered at exactly the same time so as not to imply one country is better than the other. At times I found myself confused as to if the two populations hate each other, are just putting on a good show, or are friendly. After a handshake between the two main soldiers (perhaps I should say ceremonial soldiers as there was an armed guard from either country staring at the opposite border through this all) the flag is folded and carried away. The two gates slam shut closing the border for the evening and several chains are raised across the road. They are serious about no one crossing at night...or perhaps it is all just to keep the curious tourists (mostly Indian men) from mobbing the gate.

Overall impression - a once in a lifetime sight which I could have never predicted. The chanting and marching were a little overwhelming on both sides of the border, although I must admit the women's section of the Pakistani grandstand was much more colorful than the Indian side. I'm not sure I've bee able to give you an accurate impression of just how crazy the border closing ceremony was. Check out this BBC video clip for a better look. Definitely an experience.

A weekend in Doha

This past weekend found me in Doha, Qatar for a volleyball tournament with my junior varsity boys (all 9 of them). The school I am at is now part of a league that includes schools from Cairo, Dubai, Doha and Abu Dhabi which means some rather different travel opportunities for me. Of course when you are at a sports tournament there are rather limited opportunities to see much  of the country around you. For the most part I was restricted to the hotel and the American School of Doha. We spent one evening with the kids at the Villagio Mall, a large shopping center which was constructed to look a bit like Italy inside, complete with a sky painted ceiling, a small canal (which had gondola rides), hallways that look like streets with houses on either side and an indoor roller coaster. All in all my boys played well, with a lot of heart, and managed to win two games ensuring they weren't last in the tournament. Even more importantly in my mind, our jv teams earned the sportsmanship award thanks to their positive play and friendliness off the court, making me quite proud.

I was excited to realize that I knew 3 people teaching at ASD from my time in Paraguay (how is it that I've now seen 4 people from Paraguay while based in India?) and that I had the opportunity to sit and talk with them between volleyball games. One friend even came to pick me up on Friday and take me downtown for about an hour; giving me the opportunity to walk on the corniche and get a glimpse of downtown Doha and the architecture which is along the ocean front. My two favorite sights were probably the different looking crosswalk signs (yes I am in the Middle East) and the bright green words screaming "realize", "think" and "achieve." At least this way I fell like I got to see a bit of Doha and learn a bit more about the country. Did you know that every native Qatari receives a check every month (for somewhere around $6,000) from the natural gas exported from the country? You can see how this means that there aren't any poor Qatari in the country. In fact all of the workers are imported from other countries making up 80% of the country's population. This international work force makes for an interesting contrast in a predominately Islamic country where the men wear a long white thob and a ghutra on their head while most of the women were covered head to toe in black. 

taking a break in Goa

The Diwali holiday found me with a week off from school and plenty of time to explore a new area of India. After a couple of failed travel plans I ended up in Goa, along the South West coast, with two friends and their families. The week turned into what you can only call a beach vacation. Plenty of time in the sun, playing in the sand, jumping strong waves in the ocean, and eating seafood in a beach side shack. While I don't really consider myself a beach person I really did enjoy the vacation and Velsao Beach which we made our own while there. And I really do mean that we made it our own. Situated outside of the small town of Cansaulim in southern Goa it was a mostly deserted beach. I believe there were others enjoying the beach on just two other days, and people in the water on only one of those days. The rest of the time it was us, the lifeguards and the guys who cooked and served at the beach restaurant. Definitely my idea of what a beach vacation should be like. Clean, smooth sand, shells lining the tide line, crabs and starfish populating the tidal pools, fun with the waterproof camera in the waves and plenty of beach to walk if the desire hit. After a day exploring the north I was extremely grateful we had landed on this small quiet beach rather than one of the commercial, busy, unsettling ones to be found elsewhere in Goa. I enjoyed being able to run down the narrow village road and feel as if I was entering a different time period, passing rice fields, small houses, a herd of water buffalo and a white church perched up on the hill. To have the time to breathe deep, relax and slow down was such a good way to prepare for the craziness that seems to be encompassing the last month and a half of the semester. What a nice way to spend the week. Now if only I could be sitting watching the sun set over the ocean instead of seeing a red sun in the sky due to pollution.

Diwali

The season of Diwali is alive and well in Delhi, and I feel as if I'm getting a bit of a Christmas season without it being Christmas. There was a large celebration at school, with the field lit up with more lights then I thought they could hang, an Indian dance performance, two guys wandering around on stilts who scarily would pick up little kids and dangle them above their parents, a chance to get a bit of henna done, and of course a good meal with friends. Then there are the decorations that have popped up in unexpected places. School is all dressed up for the holiday, even though we're actually going to be gone next week when Diwali occurs, with some more of the colored rice patterns which continue to amaze me and a multitude of golden clay lanterns and some small figurines of Hindi gods. There are even some melas going on that vaguely remind me of the Christmas markets in Prague and Germany. Vaguely....after all it isn't cold, and there is a whole different set of crafts (and cheap junk) that is available here. I even got to exchange a small gift with my maid who seems happy that I'm leaving so that she'll get the whole week off. It is a holiday season and I'm happy to take whatever type of celebration I can get...hopefully we'll get to experience a bit more of the lights that are supposed to accompany this holiday in Goa.

Delhi's Red Fort

Last weekend a friend and I headed into old Delhi to explore a bit. Our goal was the Red Fort (built in 1648), a name which clearly comes from the red walls that stretch 1.5 miles around nearly 125 acres of land. After a reminder that I should always carry my foreign registration card (the difference between a 10 rupee entry fee and 250 rupees) we streamed into the fort along with the crowds of Indians. I do appreciate that the tourism and heritage groups in India have kept the entry fees so reasonable priced that the locals can also enjoy the preserved heritage (even if it does make for larger crowds). We had to walk by a sandbagged guard (ummm...really, he'd just open fire?) and go through the woman's line to get patted down and our bags looked at, but then the peacefulness of the open architecture started to soak in. We spotted the Diwan-i-Aam, a pavilion where the emperor used to hold his public audiences, and figured that we should head in the direction. Most of the Indians were trying to capture a photo of the raised platform with ornate inlay where the emperor would have sat; I of course, was more interested in the arches holding up the pavilion. From there we wandered around the grounds, generally heading to less populated areas as we could see them, but making sure we looked at everything on the grounds: the private apartments of Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan topped by the scales of justice and with exquisite inlay (and more arches of course!), several side pavilions in white marble which screamed of tranquility, the Burj-i-Shamali a marble pavilion with a water chute which enabled residents to raise water from the Yamuna River below, the Moti Masjid, the Hayat Bakhsh Bagh which is a pleasure palace in the middle of a [dry] pool, and of course the out of place block barracks the British erected after the 1857 uprising. One lesson I did arrive at while wandering around and admiring the grounds and walls was that as I like taking pictures of people when I travel I can't really complain when others take pictures of me as we walk around. A lesson I'm sure I'm going to struggle to accept, but must if I'm not willing to give up the pictures I enjoy capturing the most.

For those of you who didn't realize it, the colored words in my posts are links which will take you to appropriate photos....

Dussehra Holiday

I looked out our office window last Monday to see this giant statue had been erected on the elementary field and maintenance workers were hosing down the field with water. Huh? Asking around a bit I gathered it had something to do with the holiday which was approaching on Thursday, Dussehra. I figured the watering of the ground meant somehow fire was going to be involved, but I was still a bit surprised when during second period I heard some fireworks going on, giving me just enough warning to look out my classroom window and see the statue being enveloped in fire. Okay...clearly I need to do a little research on this holiday if I'm going to understand anything!

Turns out that Dussehra is the end of a 10 day holiday which culminates in a celebration of good triumphing over evil. More specifically, celebrating the victory of Rama (the 7th incarnation of Vishnu) who killed the demon Ravana who had abducted his wife. Of course it required some secret knowledge and the blessing of Durga for Rama to succeed (it also considered a celebration of the Goddess Durga's victory over the buffalo demon Mahishasura). During the previous nine days numerous reenactments of Rama's life are performed and on the final day (Dussehra) the victory over evil is symbolized by the burning of the effigy of Ravana (sometimes along with his son and brother) and people are encouraged to similarly burn the evil within themselves and turn to follow a path of truth and goodness. 


I still feel like I'm missing a good portion of what this holiday is really about, and perhaps next year I'll manage to see a bit more than at school, or the random trucks of costumed individuals driving by. In the mean time at least I now know that the Diwali festival of lights which is coming up is also tied to this as the celebration of Rama's return to his home after this victory. I have a feeling there is plenty more for me to figure out though.

Mehrauli Archaeological Park

Finally. Finally I am starting to go our and see a bit of Delhi. Or at least I've made a start. I'm not sure I can say I'm finally starting if I don't see anything new in the next few weeks, but at least I've succeeded once. Saturday afternoon I joined a group of friends from school to go on a walking tour with Surekha who runs monthly walks around different areas of the city. This month was in the area surrounding the Qutb Minar, a 72 meter tall minaret  built between 1211 and 1236. To the south is Mehrauli Archaeological Park, a lush oasis in the middle of the city filled with remnants of building from the Mughal empire.

However, that is not where we started. On the walk towards the park we took a slight detour to climb up to Azim Khan's Tomb. The renovation has just recently been finished and while there is some debate as to if it is the tomb of a general or the son of one of (Mughal Emperor) Akbar's wet nurses it is a pretty little place amid a block of green that provides nice views of the city...and a giant Buddha statue across the way.

Back down to the street we went to head to Mehrauli. I was constantly amazed that we didn't have to get very far away from the busy Delhi streets to end up surrounded in a quiet green growth. We walked over to what had, at one time, been quite a little estate. Across the bridge spanning a canal, then on to look at the boat house which now just overlooked a cluster of plants. Turn around to find a steep series of steps leading up to what is sometimes called Metcalfe's Folly. Originally it was the tomb of Mohammad Quli Khan (brother to one of Akbar's foster brother). In the early 1800s Sir Thomas Theophilus Metcalfe, British resident at the Mughal Court, decided to convert it into his summer residence. Yes, the tomb itself was turned into the dining room of his house with some wings added on to finish it up.

From there we went on to what was probably my favorite sight, the Rajon ki Bain boali or step well. A four level well built in 1506, which provided access to water at every level step wells often gathered small communities around their edges in the covered wings. We then continued to wind our way through the park as the sun started to set. Taking quick glimpses at small ruins along the way, including Balban's tomb dating back to the 13th century (Slave dynasty ruler of Delhi Sutanate), a pavillion with scrafitti on the ceiling (a term I had never heard before but referring to some kind of scratched in artwork), and a crumbling tomb of a Sufi saint that has been forgotten.

The final stop on tour was the Jamali Kamali tomb. Our guide wanted to save the best for last, unfortunately that meant we arrived after dark and my best view of the tomb came when I was looking at my pictures on the computer the next day. It really was unfortunate as our guide actually had to get someone to unlock the tomb so that we could see inside. This tomb containing Jamali (Sufi Saint and poet Shaikh Fazlu’llah) and  Kamali (an unknown male companion) dates from around 1535 and has recently been renovated by the Archaeological Society. It is locked up in fear of people coming in and defacing the painted ceiling, ornate decorations or marble mihrab.

By the time we finished there it was dark and we carefully picked our way back to the street to jump in a rickshaw to head to dinner. I'm glad I took a few hours out of my day to get out and see a little bit of the history that Delhi holds. Now the question is, what next?

Random street sigs

There are two signs I pass every day on my way home from school and I have to say that after 8 weeks they still attract my attention. One because I am not at all sure what it means. Wait, that doesn't sound quite right, I know what it means, but I don't know what it means if you understand me. It is just a simple green sign that says "Thanks" in English and Hindi. Thanks for what? What am I missing? Who could clue me in? I wonder if one of my taxi drivers could explain it to me but just the thought of that conversation confuses me and I doubt I'd even be able to get my point across to ask the question.

The other just explains a bit about traffic here. It is a simple sign that explains what the colors of the traffic lights mean. Red = stop. Green = go. Yellow = look. It might as well say Yellow = honk and speed through as that is what happens, although I suppose the drivers do look to see if they might be hit as they try to avoid having to wait at the light. I really think it would be more appropriate if it just said Yellow = honk. After all that is what happens, despite the signs on the side of the road imploring "do not honk." - which are perhaps never going to be successful when the trucks themselves are painted with sayings including "horn please."

Neemrana Fort

A few weekends ago I had the opportunity to get out of Delhi for the weekend on the faculty retreat. A pretty fancy way to say that the school organizes a bus and helps us reserved hotel rooms so that we can spend a weekend hanging out together away from school. I, of course, hopped on board. After all why wouldn't I go somewhere if someone else is going to organize it? The destination? Neemrana Fort-Palace, 122 kilometers outside of Delhi. What makes this a cool destination is the hotel itself. Originally built in 1464 it was a hillside fort for the Chauhans until 1947. It was renovated and turned into a hotel in 1986 and staying there is a bit like taking a step back in time. I had a nice turret room, complete with raised bed, sitting area and some old furnishings. Made me feel a bit like a princess. Wandering around you could get lost in all the nooks and crannies, but the overlooks provided great views of the nearby village and of the multitude of layers in the fort itself. Some views consisted of canon ball laden roofs, others of balconies, still others of the pools or sitting courtyards. While the green pool water meant the main activity was unappealing, it was still a lovely place to relax for a weekend and get a glimpse of different area of northern India. Saturday night we were treated to the tourist show - a variety of dances including one man dressed up as a peacock (complete with feather tail fan), a flower dancer, a man and a woman who balanced pots of fire on their hands and heads, one man who managed multiple spinning bicycle wheels, and of course a pair of fire breathers who lit up the night sky around us. All in all a pleasant weekend in a magical location.

On the road

Last weekend, one of the interesting parts of our trip was, well, the trip itself. It took us 7 hours to go the 200 kilometers between Delhi and Agra; while that does seem like a bit too much to really enjoy, it was actually quite interesting. Staring out the window I felt like I was getting to go by a bit of what India really is. No longer restricted to the expensive neighborhoods I got a glimpse of what India is to everyday people. Overstuffed tuktuks holding more people then even a Guinean bush taxi, flatbed trucks full of others, markets along the street corners, plenty of full motorcycles (and when I say full, I mean anywhere from 4-6 people on them), a few small carnival like rides due to the holiday, but mostly people and animals everywhere. I saw carts drawn by horses, elephants, camels and mules. Water buffalo in a cart being pulled by a tractor. Trucks made out of the engine of a water pump which somehow manages to hall a load of people down the road. Plenty of stares and giggles as it became clear that those outside my window were just as interested in me as I was in them. Now, I'm not going to say that a long ride here is exactly comfortable, but it can be interesting and informative if you are open to it.

I found out that the Saturday we were driving was a brother-sister holiday here. August 13th was Raksha Bandhan, called Rakhi for short, during which it is common for sisters to travel to their brothers and give them a bracelet. From what I could gather from our driver it is a holiday which recognizes the role brothers play in protecting and caring for their sisters and a collection of bracelets show the strength of a man. Of course once I found out about this I couldn't help but start looking for bracelets. And let me tell you, boy do they range in style. There were subdued red string (silk is traditional) with perhaps one or two beads as well as much more flamboyant glittery flower puffs (for lack of a better description, much like party decorations on New Years Eve). I must admit it became my mission over the course of about an hour to get a few shots of the men's bracelets but it really wasn't that easy when both they and I were moving. Amusing though, and it made me catch a few other shots I probably wouldn't have gotten otherwise, like one of the boys with their kohl lined eyes or this girl selling balloons. If you'd like a short glimpse of what the ride was like you can check out this short video clip. It is a bit nauseating but make sure to notice the dizzying hand cranked Ferris Wheel type ride at the end.

The Taj Mahal

Shortly after sunrise Sunday morning I found myself standing in awe in front of the Taj Mahal. I wanted to pinch myself; it just didn't seem real. Was I really there, looking at a place that always before has been more a picture in my mind than a real building? How could it possibly be true that a mausoleum built in the 1600s could be so geometrically precise? That the building itself, glowing in white marble, could look the same no matter which side you view it from, with nine arches? That when you walk to the back of the tomb of Mumtaz Mahal you get a clear straight line view all the way to the entrance gate? (Although that is that false tomb, as the real tomb is underneath the main chamber floor and was reserved for access by the royal family only.) That the symmetry only seems to double when you see the reflection in the ponds of the garden? It really is an amazing feat of architecture, a true wonder of the world. and a fitting testament to a deathbed promise by Mughal emperor Shah Jahan to his third wife. The only mar to the perfect symmetry (so thought out that the minarets are actually at an angle so that all four can be viewed no matter which side you are looking from) is the addition of Shah Jahan's tomb beside his wife's. The second massive mausoleum he had planned for himself never being finished beyond a wall. I must say I now understand why this is sometimes considered one of the seven wonders of the world. It truly is an amazing sight.

First impressions

I'm in India! Wait, can I say that again? I'm not sure it has sunk in yet. I'm in India! Colorful, noisy, busy India. Although I have to admit things aren't quite what I expected. But then, when are they ever? We arrived after dark and so my first real impressions of Delhi involved a fairly empty airport, lots of guards walking by with guns, and the entry to my new apartment where I was greeted by colored rice artwork. I will say that the school is taking great care of us. I have a huge, beautiful 2 bedroom, 2 1/2 bath apartment with a balcony that is as large as the one I had last year which looks over one of the main streets in Vasant Vihar. I'm rattling around in it a bit right now, but I'm sure I'll manage to fill it up as I stay here.

I have a 15-20 minute ride to school in the morning (longer to return in the afternoon). The streets are a clutter of trucks, vans, cars, bicycles, moto rickshaws, motorcycles, walkers, beggars and of course cows! Yes it is true that the cows have the right of way. And it isn't very unusual to see one meandering down the center of a busy road, with the traffic just flowing around it. I haven't quite been able to figure out the rule of the road. It seems to be more a game of chicken than anything else and cars get quite close to each other. The other day we had a rickshaw come barreling out of a side street heading right towards the center of our van. Not quite sure how we managed to avoid a collision! I think I'll be adopting a policy of looking far away when I'm gazing out of the window instead of looking at the traffic.

Markets are not what I pictured when I was told about them. My memories of Turkey and Guinea led me a bit astray. I'd have to say the few we've been taken to have been quite calm by comparison and very organized. More a collection of little stores than an open air selling area. That is somewhat of a pleasant surprise. I've heard there are some markets where it is more of a bargaining based adventure, but those in the near by areas are quite organized. The shops are a bigger than they look at first glance, a small store front which open into a long narrow store that is often 3-5 levels. You never know what you'll find around the next corner, or even what they'll pull out of some outside sidewalk you didn't realize existed. It makes me glad people speak English as it is sometimes difficult to find an item on your own.

Other small observations. There are many more men out and about then there are women. And when I say many I mean that I see maybe 2 women for every 30 men that pass by my house. Colorful saris and clothing add a great deal of brightness to the world. House help it typical for most families/singles above a certain income level, with many people employing multiple staff - cook, cleaner, laundry man, driver, aya (nanny)....luckily I seem to have inherited a woman who will take care of the first three for me. In fact she'll even do the shopping for me! School has an interesting juxtaposition in location. Just across from the US Embassy on one side, the adjacent side of the block finds you looking at a slum. It seems that the school is quite involved with working with kids that live there, but I'm sure I'll find out more and share more later. All in all I feel like I'm slowly settling in and getting things sorted out and that the school take great care of its teachers. I'm focused on getting my apartment set up right now, but I'm sure once I'm past that I'll get the urge to go out exploring and find much more to share with you.