Last Day in Chennai

Chennai has worn me down with it's dirt, stench, noise and traffic. It takes a lot of effort just to walk down the street. With few tourists, the locals are not used to seeing white people, and as a white girl walking alone everywhere, they can't help but stare. There are many different kinds of stares, and I don't mind most of them. Stares from women can contain friendly curiosity, admiration, awe, respect. Sometimes I think they're imagining what life is like where I'm from, or feel their thirst for women's lib or the desire to have the freedom to wear what I'm wearing. I have yet to see an Indian woman dressed in Western-style clothing (think jeans and a teeshirt, not cowgirl boots). Sometimes I can stare back, smile, and it's all very friendly. Some stares, are mean spirited or aggressive, and I've seen several of those. Although the minority, they are more memorable, and make for an interesting story. I had a man stare and follow me from the commuter train station down to the street, talking to me in English I was not able to understand. I yelled at him in French, to "degage" and leave me alone. He was harmless, but saying "please don't follow me", which I say several times daily, sometimes just doesn't cut it. One guy struck up a friendly conversation while walking the same way, but when he asked me how I like India, I listed several positive things, but couldn't help but ask "Why is it so dirty? Why is there so much garbage in the street? Why are there cows all over the place in the city?". He became very agitated and fired up. He was eager to have a healthy discussion, to explain why his city is so dirty and it's not his fault, but was incapable of staying calm. I went to my quiet internet cafe, so he would have to leave me alone, but not before another young strange man grabbed my leg and my hip, in the street, in broad day light. I made a little scene, yelling "Don't do that!", attracting attention from several onlookers, including women. He didn't seem to mind, and took two steps towards a wall and began urinating. Men urinate everywhere in Chennai. It stinks like pee everywhere. There are no public toilets and I can't find any better way to understand why it's like this other than "they just don't care". I'm reading a book called "The Idea of India", that I found in a shop in Kolkata, in an attempt to better understand India, and keep the benefit of the doubt alive. It says that one of the byproducts of the caste system (jati and varna) is that it "deflects responsibility for social outcomes away from human individuals... impossible to assign blame for social wrongs". The concept of "community clean up" or Big Event is not part of the DNA. I've been wondering if a public urination citation would be viable here, and something that would fund free public toilet. Maybe the police are corrupt, so if they had that, they would just keep the money, or not make any of the peers pay. Many men who pee in public have no money or no link to civilized society (address, driving permit), but certainly some would be able to pay the fine and there would be means of tracking them down to get it. Citations for unnecessary car horn honking would be great, too. I'm always trying to think of ways to improve the situation. I wonder what are the Chennai urban planners doing? Does the city have any urban planner? Maybe they have bigger fish to fry than public urination and honking. Certainly homelessness, hunger, childcare and education would be higher priorities. I've also noticed, since women are mostly at home and I interact with so few of them, that my interactions with men are more frequent, and interesting when they are sour: As a single, white female traveling alone, over age 30 and unmarried, I buck the idea of woman in their world. They can't get their head around why I'm alone, what I'm doing, why I'm here, how I have my own money. Some men have no choice but to interact with me when I pay for a hotel room or I order food. In some cases, I make them so uncomfortable, they just want me to leave. The hotel manager this morning refused to give me my key deposit back. He said I checked in too early on Monday, and that counted as an extra day. It seemed like he just didn't want me to be there and felt he deserved extra money from me. The nice internet cafe manager couldn't sell me internet this morning because of a power outage. He was incapable of brief chit chat, he wanted me to leave and come back later. He could handle our interaction on a business level, but not casually. Waiters will bring me the check before I'm done eating, before I'm done ordering additional bread and another 7-up, when they never bring the check to others unless they ask for it, and have been finished eating for some time. Many waiters are so awkward, it seems like they've never served a white woman, or a solo woman before. I don't understand why serving me is so different from serving a dude. Some men assume I need help, attempt to help me in some way, and when they see I don't need any help, reject my company and behave in ways that make me want to go away. Chennai is tough. It kicked my ass the first day. I wasn't able to find food or feel safe walking down the chaotic street. I kicked it back, however, and have found everything I need, and can manage different kinds of interactions with men who don't know what to do when they see me. I'm ready to blow this dusty popsicle stand. Let's go swimming!

Trains and trains to Chennai

I've spent more time on a train in the last 2 days than off. Went from Puri to Visakhapatnam (aka "Visag"), hoping to take a picturesque little train ride to Araku. Visag turned out to be a crumbling, dusty, difficult city I didn't want to wait around in. I arrived late from Puri and missed dinner, opting not to eat the food available on the train. I don't think people wash their hands, and touching food while it's cooking, while serving, and while eating is common. I've had a tummy ache and gas for the past day or so. I managed to get some "breakfast", like a tortilla and a tiny bowl of curry stuff, and booked a plane ticket to the Andaman islands at an internet cafe just seconds before the power cut out, which it does in Visag every day for at least an hour. I went to several ticket counters before someone would sell me a train ticket to Chennai that day, without an assigned seat; 195 rupees. Understanding where and how to buy a ticket, the info printed on the ticket, the board, and the PA are all challenging. I got some Veg Biryani and a Sprite at the train cafe which had AC! I was surprised to.see a sitdown cafe in the first place. The TV was on and I saw part of a cricket match and funny commercials for home improvement loans and cell phones. I saw a full-face covered muslim woman remove her zoro mask to eat, in a restaurant full of unknown men. I saw a billboarde advertising a bank account for women, to "manage your funds on your own".
When boarding the train, I asked a local guy where to sit, and took an empty bunk in a sleeper car (all are sleeper cars). At about 6pm, another passenger kicked me out of.my spot, so I moved to the adjacent bunk, where my big bag somehow fell down to the floor, nearly hitting a man with a little girl sleeping on his lap. A ticket inspector told me to go up the wagon a ways to get an assigned seat drom his coworker. I didn't understand where to go, nor did I identify anyone as a seat assigning employee. I walked almost the whole length of the train, past the kitchen (not eating, good decision!) and through several upper class cars with AC. A ticket agent there told me to buzz off, his area was full, obviously. I crawled all the way back, past lots of dirty people who stay in the spaces between the cars, and found the right guy. After searching his dot-matrix printouts, he sold me a 140 rupee supplement ticket, and stapled a little paper to my ticket, and I went to find my bunk among other young, Indian women. We should arrive in Chennai by 5am. The young guy across from us was reading a book, looked intelligent and friendly. He ate his rice and sauced chicken dinner expertly with the tips of the fingers on his right hand.

Puri - holy cow

Despite the communist party calling a nation-wide strike, I was able to get to the train station no problem. I happened upon a local festival parade with flashing lights, a skeleton puppet, drumming banchees, and loud Indian techno music. Great fun!
The night train to Puri was quiet, arriving on-time, just before 6am. I met a young French couple (again! More Frenchies!) and a girl from Israel at the Puri train station. The hostel is super nice and clean, high ceilings, granite bathroom for 150 rupees/night. The other people are older single women traveling alone from the US, Holland, and Canada, here to meditate and find enlightenment at the nearby Ashram. The beach is half nice, half filthy with dogs, fishermen, and caca. Puri as a town is good, colorful and calm. Lots of cows in the street! And monkeys, too!
I rode in a tuk tuk with the new pals to a dance and music festival which was interesting. Many white people in the audience who look like hippy hindu/buddhist/hari krishna wierdos. Feeling very sane, educated, like a respectable person who worked a proper job once, and grounded in reality :) New malaria medicine Chloroquine is much better, that helps too!
Met another French guy at the train station when I went to buy my onward ticket. I was instructed to.fill out a form first, and also cut in front of the men in line. The French guy talked to me later, full of not helpful advice, including that I should dress like Indian women do so I'll fit in better. He has been to India several times, stays for months at time, and was wearing a red, name-brand message T-shirt and Adidas shorts, not very Indian fity iny. I seem to get stared at for being white, female and alone, not for my boring, just fine modest clothes. I also don't expect Indians to ever treat me like I fit in, even if I dressed like they do. Plus, it's hot here and I wear a big backpack. A saree or long, layered tunik, no thanks!

Kolkata, photos

Kolkata, after 3 days

Day 2 in Kolkata was rainy. It drissled just enough to turn the dust and dirt that covers the streetscape into sludge and mud, not enough rain to wash the filth away. I found the Rafi Ahmed Kidwai street tram and rode it around for 6 rupees (11 cents). An old, clunky steel street car with corrugated wood floors and open windows. I walked through the Esplanade and the market area. I read. I ate at a Roti stand. Then I bumped into new friends Estelle and Erwan from Nantes, France.lp They've been traveling in Asia/India for over 4 months. I've crossed paths with them in the street 5 or 6 times by happenstance, and since they struggle with English, it's nice for them and for me to speak French at the end of the day, plus we have interesting discussions. I love traveling alone, but it's so good to eat dinner with good people, not alone.

India is wonderful but difficult. Every day I see amazing new things, I'm so glad I came, and I also hate it at times and I get so frustrated or turned off it makes me cry or wish I were going home tomorrow. They're not well set up for tourists, so getting a hotel room is the 1 person problem and the hotels are crappy, the nice ones are few, far between, full and expensive. I will change hotels again tomorrow. From 400 rupees/night at the first place run by muslim guys (noisy, squat toilet, cold water), to the 600 rupee place today run by regular Indian/Hindi guys (western toilet leaks, cold water). Tomorrow is a 750 rupee place with ¡Hot Water! run by Sihks. The owner there combs his long beard carefully into his turban. I would have moved to the Sihks' place sooner, but they were fully booked. I visited a few other hotels. If they have a vacancy, they're gross.

Internet is hard to get, the internet cafes are tiny, crappy, and many want a copy of my passport (just to connect to wifi!). In one restaurant, even when you buy lunch there, they charge for the wifi, with a bad attitude, and ask for the passport. Make it free, easy, and charge me a little extra for the Sprite, ggeesh!

I tried to take the 55A bus to the Botanical Garden today, and after 2 hours of walking around the bus-getting block, a mess of buses and trams going every which way. I asked more than 20 people for specific directions, including a traffic cop. I managed to get on the right bus, pay the 5 rupee fare, and ride it 1 block to the end of the line. I got kicked off, and tried to find it going the other way and never succeeded. Plan B, I tried to take a taxi to the Garden, but the driver didn't speak English and was illiterate, so even pointing at the map didn't help. I felt totally defeated and frustrated.
I feel so familiar with Indian people from the SF bay area and also Texas that I forget many people here don't speak English.

It's really a shame because I like India and would want them to get more income from tourism. Hot showers and internet would be a good start. It's hard for me to understand why getting those things set up would be difficult... They must be. Vietnam, Thailand, the Philippines, Cambodia, and China have their act together better, to varying degrees, than India.

I made friends with a charismatic, short, gay waiter at a local restaurant where I can get toast with jam, porridge (oatmeal) and yummy tchai for 120 rupees ($2.20) in the morning: Sam. He was amazed when I told him we have lots of open land in the US, small towns, farms, Wyoming, Nebraska, etc. We could do better with cheap youth hostels and public transport too, but wifi we do well, and couch surfing... He explained the festival that's going on now, for a female sacred figure Sarashwati Puja (sp?). The school kids build a statue of her out of twigs and mud, parade it around at night with her on a truck, with drums, music, dancing and costumes, then dump the statue in the Ganges river, and also bathe themselves in the river. Every school does this, so there must be thousands of statues that end up in the river!

While I was out today, as questions came up, I made a list of them so I can ask Sam at breakfast tomorrow morning, like how do the men attach the man-skirt rag they wear? A TAMU Indian classmate Thomas called it a "dotti", I think. Why do some men dye their hair/beard orange? I also sent some questions about food and clothing to my TAMU friend Shilpa. Her response was helpful and she said my questions and observations made her laugh :)

After baggin the trip to the Botanical Garden, I walked to the Flower Market and around the north end of the city. I saw a communist party parade (CPI), followed by a labor union parade. I saw lots of manual labor being done in workshops that front the street: wood carving and furniture, pipes and plumbing, engines, window frames, wires, clocks, fans, bicycle repair, welding, grinding, sewing, flower arranging, eye glasses, cooking, tchai served in tiny terra cotta cups people throw in the gutter when they're done. I saw every kind of shape and sized package and object you can imagine being carried on a man's head: oil barrels, suitcases, rings the size of tractor tires wrapped in shiny foil, baskets, a double mattress on the heads of two men, huge styrofoam boxes, stacks of big metal bowls, plastic bottles, beanbag fill. I walked through the banking district, where I was the only white person in thousands, and also the only woman. No business women! There are public urinals for men, but I had no toilet options all afternoon as streetfood stalls don't have bathrooms. No Macy's, no Starbucks, no bank lobby, no gas station john, nada.
I saw 1 white guy in the street all day: Charles, a retiree from Calgary. I flagged him down because his small backpack was open. After "hello" and "isn't the flower market awesome but muddy!", he started to complain about how it's difficult to get around and get things done in India. He thought Vietnam and Thailand were much easier, more convienient. Fellah, I hear ya. He asked me if I manage OK as a woman traveling alone. I said other than the staring, it seems that about 5 men each day I pass on the street make an effort to lean over and slightly bump into me, on purpose.

I minimize taking my cell phone out of my bag to take photos in crowds, so many good "guy carrying huge thing on his head" pics are on the cheap regular camera. I'll try to upload some soon!

India first 24 hours - Kolcata

I was so excited, smiling, and blown away when I first arrived. All of the colors, crazy traffic, noise and people everywhere gave me that thrill I get everytime I arrive in a new city, only stronger than I can remember. The French call it "depayse", when you feel plunged, totally outside of your own country. Fun!

There is a special festival going on, so women are dressed in their most sparkling, brightest sarees, and there is fun Indian music blaring around the city. I saw and heard this on the taxi ride from the airport to the metro station, and when I sat in the "ladies" section on the train. This also means that all the decent budget hotels are booked full, and there don't seem to be any hostels with dorm bunks. The "one person problem" with hotels will likely be a problem everywhere in India, which may make it one of the more expensive countries so far (India is No. 8). I'm staying in a cheap hotel a few blocks away from the backpacker area. I lock my room with their big padlock when I leave, and it has a squat toilet. It's clean, no carpet, and I always draw the line at "no bugs" of which there are none. Saurday morning outside was a stinky live chicken market a block long. I don't think they do the $2 laundry service in India, but I found a Tide bar of laundry soap (they had tide solid in China, but not in Camb or Thail, the powder would go everywhere, not good for backpacks) at a small grocery store, and can wash my clothes in the bucket and it's friend, the scoop, that all hotel bathrooms in all of greater Asia have, even when there is a proper shower. I still have my string for a clothes line, and managed to lose all but 2 clothes pins.

The food is good and cheap, so is transport, so maybe it'll balance out. With so many people, I'm surprised how few restaurants there are, and they all have guards at the door. There are lots of street food stalls, but all they do is flip food around, no one seems to get anything to eat, and the line doesn't move. Also, I don't know how to order, and the locals cut in front of me, thinking I won't actually eat there or I don't count. White people must stare a lot and wander off, which is what I did because they didn't sell me any food. If I stick by the Lonely Planet, and if I can actually find the street signs, I can find places to eat tucked in nooks and crannies.

The poverty is striking, but so far not getting me down. I am constantly trying to make sense of why it's dirty and why many people are poor, begging, shoeless, sleeping in building entryways, washing themselves and their clothes in the gutter, which is filthy. Why many buildings are crumbling. Simultaneously, people are constantly shopping, buying elaborate and custom sarees, many people are clean, well dressed, well groomed, fancy SUVs are not uncommon, Indian weddings are spendy, sometimes prices are comparable to what we pay for stuff at home.
Today I visited Victoria Memorial, which is big and lovely, with a huge garden amd reflecting ponds. I also caught the "English" planetarium presentation. With the thick accent and echoing sound system, I only understood a tiny bit of it.
Off next to book a train ticket to the next place maybe on Friday. Train tickets fill up months in advance, come to find out. Wish me good luck with that.

Last day in Chiang Mai

I really like this funky, hodge-podge, temple-filled city. Will take the night train back to Bangkok tonight. I only did 2 things in Chiang Mai, which was the perfect amount: walk around, and took a cooking class. Chiang Mai has endless, interesting alley ways, called "soi", inside and out of the square configuration of the old walled city. Typical, old houses are 2 story, made of wood, with gently pitched roofs, and a courtyard surrounded by a wall or gate. Many of them have been converted to restaurants with outdoor seating, charming guesthouses, often both. The night market is touristy but colorful amd fun. I see monks of all ages and sizes walking around in their orange togas. I even happened upon what looked like a high school parade with its pink feathered marching band. The cooking class was fun, and easy, and I will be delighted to cook Pad Thai, Tom Yan soupe with shrimp, and mango with sticky rice when I get home!

Also, holy shit, I fly to India in 2 days!! A note on malaria medicine:
A fellow diver on one of the boats in Koh Tao was an old doctor from France, and we got to talking about travel and malaria. I told him I'm taking Mefloquine/Lariam, because I'm allergic to doxycyclin, the cheap common antibiotic people take for malaria prevention. I was warned when I got Lariam that it causes nightmares, and it does mess with my sleep and give me weird, overly vivid dreams every night. There was one with my mom in it a while back with her teeth falling out that made me ask Alan (stepdad) if she was OK. Supposedly, the dream interpreters call it the death dream. The other night, I startled myself awake, thinking there was a street dog next to me. The scuba doctor said right away that Lariam makes people crazy and I should stop taking it at 3 months. I started it on Dec 16th, so I have about a month to find an alternative drug, even though I have 9 weeks of the pills remaining. Mosquitos bite me everyday. I'll have to learn more soon, have the adventure of meeting a pharmacist or doctor in India. I hear about another antimalarial, called Malarone...

On a more upbeat note, I found Ellen MacArthur's book here in the used book shop, and I'm really enjoying it! I'm not sailing an awesome sailboat, but I'm on a long, solo adventure like she was. I saved up for it, my parents helped me, my friends miss me and give encouragement, I'm a tomboy, I broke things off with boys along the way, I'm alone a lot and get sick, it's thrilling, exciting and makes me feel proud, confident and capable. I find a lot of likemindedness and inspiration in her story. Yay!  :)

It's more and more rare that I meet a fellow traveler who has been to more places than I have, lived away from home for as long (10+ years). I am finding myself wishing with increased frequency that someone soulmate-like were here with me, to share all the places, sights and smells with. Maybe he'll come on the scene next year, and we'll save up for South America together. One thing at a time...

Chiang Mai

After a very long train ride, I am now in Chiang Mai. Holy cow, they have a huge Sunday Night Market! Cute alley ways, too!

Koh Tao island, scuba school!

I learned to scuba dive and loved it! I had a blast with Big Blue Diving on Koh Tao. Everyone there was enthusiastic and there to learn to dive. I did the Open Water course with 4 dives, and the advanced course with 5 dives, 4 of which went down past 20 meters, one had a shipwreck, and one descent was in a rock formation shaped like a chimney. We swam with a large turtle, and saw many beautiful fish and coral. I had some trouble with my ears, but did really well otherwise, finding neutral buoyancy easily and swimming more gracefully, with less effort and using less air than the boys! My ankle muscles are sore!
The ferry back to the Thai mainland was beautiful. The funky old bus from the port to the train station in Champon had to be push-started, which was hillarious. We all applauded. Diving was another high point of the trip. I'm so pleased I did it and look forward to diving again soon. Next is the night train to Bangkok and a day train right after to Chang Mai!

Bangkok

After a hellish border crossing from Cambodia, during which I met a couple my age from France and ate dinner together, I had a busy, chaotic, productive first day in Bangkok. I had a hard time finding a room (the whole city is full)... I rode the public bus to the train station to book tickets to go to Ko Tao, an island several hours south of Bangkok where I can learn to scuba dive. I booked scuba school and lodging for the up coming week! I leave tomorrow night! I also booked train tickets back to BK, north to Chang Mai, and back to BK a final time. I booked a hostel for my last night in BK before flying to Kalcutta. And I went to the India Visa office to apply for a visa. They will keep my passport for 6 to 8 business days. I've never booked and planned ahead so much in the last 3 months in Asia as I did today.
From 4pm onward, I had some fun, taking the river ferry to Chinatown and ate a sitdown dinner in the street among all the street vendors where I talked to some nice people from China, and a local family who insisted on pouring more beer into my glass and giving me crab.
The Thai people are very polite, helpful and smiling. Many speak English, or at least make an awesome effort to communicate. The Chinese and Indian communities have a big presence here. Some ethnic diversity is refreshing after visiting several homogenous countries in a row. Once it got dark, I hopped on the back of a public motorcycle to get home, and saw several monuments illuminated at night. Bangkok is big, loud and complex, but fun!