2 monuments in Jodhpur, bus ride to Jaisalmer

I visited the Jaswant Thada whote marble monument, and the Ummed Palace before leaving Jodhpur on a 2:30pm busbto Jaisalmer. The rickshaw rides, bus ride, people watching, turban spotting, and problems with hotel staff upon arrival were the most interresting parts of the day.
The more I venture to far flung places, the more people stare, and the worse the men behave...
The bus station in Jodhpur was kusy a dusty side street fillled with blowing dust and trash. I waited 30 for my bus and was told rudely several times to wait in the dark, cell-like office. Instead, I waotes outside with everyone, including women wearing brightly colored saris withatching see-through mesh shawls fully coverimg their faces (which is practical in the dust), and old men going every which way in every color of whipped-topping shaped turban. The Rajput turban is quite fluffy and bulbs out more than the tidy, tightly wrapped Sihk/Punjabi turban. My favorite was a tall man in a black suit, with a whote beard and bright peach colored turban with matching neck scarf.
Everyone on the bus stared at me, including a little girl who cried when she saw me. We stopped at towns along the way where I helped a boy selling popsicles reach the hands and rupees of the passengers in the upper deck of the bus, who along the way, spat out the window only once or twice.
The Lonely Planet warns of in-your-face rickshaw, guesthouse and camel tour peddlers, two of which boarded the bus to harrass me before I could alight, intimidating in the dark (8pm), but harmless. I said "no thank you" loudly 25 times, and a couple bitchy "Don't Follow Me"s. I took a rickshaw to a central square, and said no to offers from the driver and his swarming friends. I walkws into the LP recommendes Fort View Hotel, picked a room (the entire hotel was Shining-esque empty) and ate dinner in the rooftop restaurant with a stunning view of the Fort. I met 2 guys in Jaisalmer for the last 6 month on a hotel management internship, one from Czech Republic and one from Sri Lanka. They manage a very upmarket, new resort just outside the town (and no Mom, they were not able to get me a free room). At 10pm, I turned in, and took a shower. Then I noticed that the frosted window in the shower stall faces the couryard, with stairs and balconies of upper floors across from it. Above the frosted glass was a egular window sreen that was not see-through from my side, nut I wondered if it were see-through from, say, the balcony across and 1 floor above. I put on my PJs and went out to check, and crossed a startled waiter on his way down the stairs to my floor. Asshole peeper! He watched me creep all the way over to the balcony, and asked if everything was ok. I said "yep", went in my room, backed up, left without anyone seeing me, amd stiffed them for my dinner.
I wandered around in the dark with my flashlight ans wet hair, amd found a better hotel with aeveral other guests talking and carrying on in the rooftop restaurant. Several young French tourists, a Canadian and I will do the camel safari camp out tonight. I need to buy a hat!

Holi Festival in Jodhpur

Holi is very fun! I was attacked by a group of Indian children, an Indian newspaper photo crew, and white tourists, including 3 Americans, rare in these parts, while sitting on the hotel rooftop terrace finishing breakfast. Yay! Holi came to find me!! And we had a silly good tume up on the roof, rubbing color powder on eachothers faces. Once in the street, however, things are a bit dicey. I got my boobs groped from behind, and turned around swearing and swinging my fist. Does that count as getting into a fight? The group of friends and I just walked away, only thing you can do. 10 seconds later, we were dancing with a group of orange and red robed women. I ruined a specifically chosen, old white shirt and sports bra, and got yellow color powder in my mouth and eye. You haven't lived until you've played Holi, and cleaned purple boogers out of your nose. The red and pink colors are the most staining. Washing my hair was like having red cough syrup poured on my head. Fun!!*!

Jodhpur - the colorful city

Jodhpur is lovely and its favorite color is blue! I'm having a ball wandering up and down the meandering streets and alleyways, some loud and bustling, others quiet, others steep and winding. Jodhpur is all about color, beauty and courtyards. Fort Mehrangarth itself is an immense labyrinth of courtyards set within courtyards, layer upon layer, like an onion, most to protect noble women from the glance of men. Common houses, too, often start with an outer wall, with multuple families living on 2 or 3 floors of a u-shaped home complex set around an inner courtyard. I believe the layers of walls create shade and encourage breezes. The indigo blue color predominates, and is said to repel insects. Jodhpur buildings have many colors. I also see turquoise, pink, peach, white, yellow, orange and red, several colors of houses in a row.
I transcribed a poetic part of the Fort's audio guide, to do with color, that I really enjoyed: "In direct contrast to the barren plains of Rajasthan, and no doubt because of it, there's a collidescope of color in dresses, shawls, and the swirl of men's turbans. Here, on the edge of the Thar dessert, deep shades of red and blue, dazzling yellows, bright oranges, and cool greens stand out vividly. In Rajpur courts, color was so much a part of life that it became quite complex and formal. There are colors for different seasons, particular colors for festivals, darker colors for cooler months, and in July, when the summer heat is at its fiercest, nobility dons the color of clouds in expectation of the life-giving monsoon. At the harvest festival of Holi, everyone rejoyces in robes of red and white. And at Diwali, men and women in the richest hughes of peacock blue gather to watch the fireworks to celebrate the triumph of good over evil. Brides in elaborate and auspicious red wedding dresses marry grooms in saffron turbans. Saffron is sacred to the Rajpurth and is always worn for that final battle charge, never to return. And there are colors for death, too. Bodies are shrouded in white and mourners wear white, or a dull green, or dull blue, or khaki. And on the day when mourning is lifted, the bidding will appear in the palest of pink turbans."

Udaipur in Rajasthan

After killing 2 hours at Victoria station in Mumbai waiting for the 8:25 night train to Ahmedabad, I realized at 8pm that my train was actually leaving from Mumbai Central Station. Ah! Run! I jumped in a taxi and missed my train by 5 minutes. The ticket (low class non-AC sleeper) was only 245 rupees, and they refunded half, but the next train to Ahmedabad departing at 10pm was booked solid except for the 1AC, high class sleeper for 1500 rupees. I decided against chancing it, where you hope to get a seat once on board in lieu of spending the night in-between wagons next to the toilet, so I paid and got the fancy ass sleeper car with AC, sheets, a blanket and an electrical outlet. It was unecessary, and boring compared to the colorful saree ladies' coach, but interesting to see how the other half live. The AC was too cold, then cut out in the middle of the night, then came back on strong. 3 men in the compartment snoring. I got little sleep.
I walked around Ahmedabad when we arrived at 6:30am, before the chaotic traffic started. There was way more garbage and filth in the street than in most Indian cities. I got on a "luxury" bus to Udaipur at 8:30am. Again, the higher class transport option did not deliver anything better. Like the clunky, fun public buses, this one also had no AC. It had half sleeper compartments and half seats, which were bigger but less clean than the public ones. I would have prefered to lay down and stretch out, but I realized quickly that each twin sleeper bunk fits a family of 4 to 5 people. The luxury bus is also a target for water and snack vendors who board the bus at every stop, yelling and waiving bottles of unlabeled, wrinkled, refilled with tap water in your face. People in the uppet deck can spit out the window and the spray get you down below, wheras only the beetle nit chewing men spit from tje public bus, and they just lean over you and spit down tidily.
In Udaipur, I took a tuk tuk to the footbridge and was happy to see that this city was worth the journey. Narrow, meandering streets and hidden walkways, and old white washed masonry houses cobbled together. Pastels of yellow, blue, pink, turquoise and green are a delightful backdrop for the immense Palace, which I'll visit tomorrow on an early walking tour. Udaipur is small, so I'll likely leave tomorrow night for Jodpur, the blue city, where I'll stay put for the Holi color throwing festival on Wednesday.

Mumbai

Since Hampi, I have ridden more cheap, non-airconditioned local buses all the way to Gokarna on the coast, and then up to Panjim in Goa, then a night train to Mumbai.
Gokarna is a sleepy seaside town with cute narrow back streets, lots ofstray cows and dogs, a filthy creek and a trash-speckled beach. I didn't stay long, but the town was still buzzing from a local festival. They have 2 huge charriots in the street they pull with donkeys. Children sit on the second level of the chariot, and throw bananas at people, aiming violently for the face. It has something to do with Shiva and some kind of monkey revenge.

One of the buses on the way through Goa was leaving in a hurry, and the ticket agent yelled and excitedly pushed me into the jam packed bus. I found myself nose to nose with an old man with a long scraggly white beard, wearing a white turban, and holding a long walking stick, with children sitting on the floor, women of all ages in colorful clothing all over, and a friendly young man staring at me. In the chaos, there was also loud, fun Indian techno dance music playing on little speakers, and a colorfful dingleberry garland hanging across the windsheild. I couldn't help but laugh and smile. The young guy laughed with me and we bumped on down the road like it was a party!

On the night train to Mumbia, all I could get was an open ticket in the women's wagon, which unfortunately had fewer spaces to sleep than the normal, 3-bunks high sleeper cars. The wagon filled with so many women, they were lying in the aisles and literally underneith my legs. I felt lucky to have a seat, but really wished I could have laid down and slept properly. Two sisters, who are students at the University of Mumbai, couldn't help but ask me the "Indian 20 questions". We talked about many things, most astonishing to me was the part where they explained, in simple terms, the names of the Indian castes. According to two 20 year old women on a train, here they are in order from top to bottom:
Brahmen (Hindu)
Maratha (Hindu)
OBC - this stands for "Other Backward Classes"
ST - "scheduled tribes"
NT - "nomadic tribes
SC - "scheduled class" (Buddhist)

I find the "other backward classes" to be a bit offensive, but then I remember that formal social higherarchy is just generally wrong to begin with.
The two women and I also talked a lot about marriage and being single. I was blown away that they were blown away that I liked living alone, and although their English was very good, "apartment" was a new word. I described having my own kitchen, bathroom, washer and dryer. They couldn't disagree that it could possibly be nice to have all of those things to oneself. I made the older sister uncomfortable when I said I would be fine if I never get married and never have children, and my parents are also fine with that, even when that means zero grandchildren (unheard of!). They asked me "How will you be taken care of when you're old?!" I described retirement savings, and that even if I do have children, I wouldn't want to burden them financially. "-Ohhhhhh" they replied. The older sister was very pretty but somewhat of an airhead, and she described everthing she could about arranged marriages, and how sure she is that her parents will find the perfect guy for her, she has a cousin who turned down 40 to 50 guys, but is now engaged to the perfect one. She is certain that her arranged marriage will lead to children and a blissful life. I hope she gets it. The younger, spunkier, smarter sister with slightly crooked teeth and glasses, had questions like "why did your parents get divorced", and understood right away when I described that in the 1970s when my parents met, it was taboo to live together and date for too long without getting married. One parent was a money saver, and a home-body, and the other liked to spend more and go places a lot. They weren't a good fit and they weren't able to find out before getting married. Living together could have given them a trial period, and maybe led to breaking things off earlier and finding a better match. I also talked about the dating I've done, and how I haven't met the right guy yet. There's always a reason why they're not a good fit, so I move on and keep looking. I repeated that living alone is awesome, and added I'd rather be single and happy than with a guy who's not a good fit. Again, the younger spunky sister understood, and the older pretty one was disappointed and uncomfortable, and just wanted to believe in her perfect, future arranged marriage.

Mumbai has wonderful, British stone architecture and British style streets and sidewalks. Yay! Sidewalks!!! There is a large, linear park where men play pick-up cricket, and all on one side is the huge court house, old churches, and a clock tower that reminds me of the one at San Jose State Univ., only this one is bigger. I hear it chiming often. Mumbai is mostly clean, and the food is good. I did, however, expect Mumbai to be more modern. Internet is hard to find, internet cafes have old, clunky computers, and wifi is absent. I also see very few women in modern clothing. Still the sari and the chudidar with a scarf and pants. It's hot, and I have seen no women in shorts or a skirt above the ankle. The most modern it gets is a t-shirt that covers the butt completely, and full-length jeans. Men, on the other hand, widely wear athletic shorts and t-shirts.

I took a "slum tour", and met a fun, intelligent, awesome British single gal traveler, Steph. She's from Manchester but works in London as a hospital administrator (NHS). We had long and interesting conversations comparing our two country's health care and tax systems. It was very interesting. We spoke about many things: race, rape, abortion, burkas, "16 and pregnant", Honey Boo Boo, social mobility and community college. She could see that making university available to students of any age, part-time, students with children, career-change people, is awesome and she wished they had that in the UK. I wish we had in the US a system remotely resembling the UK's universal health care.

I mailed a package home with my journal, a book, and my scuba mask in it. It took 2 hours to buy a cardboard box, go to the street stall that sews muslin wrappers on packages which is apparently required, fill out the customs form, xerox it in tripplicate, and pay for my shipment, about $20. I kept a smile on my face, but geez louise, Indian bureaucracy is atrocious!

I'll stay in Mumbai for 2 more days, to take in some museums and catch up on some sleep.

Gokarna

I took 4 different buses West after Hampi, aiming for the beaches of Goa. Timing had it that I went to Gokarna instead. It's a goofy little seaside town with a dirty beach, putrid estuary, more cows in the road than most Indian cities have, and a two crazy, holy charriots. I found a comfortable, inexpensive caban on the beach with 2 friendly neighbors, Karla from Austria, and Carlo from Italy. I fit right in.

Resting, stocking up on supplies (soap, kleenex, rehydration salt packets), reading, and easting my version of Indian burritos: Chapatti with masala potatoes, hot sauce, and tomato salad mixed in. Like Hampi, Gokarna is mostly veg, and restaurants don't serve beer. Heading north early tomorrow, maybe Goa, maybe as far as Mumbai.

Hampi, 2 days of rocks and temples

Hampi is very lovely! I took a group bicycle tour to more than 15 historic sites, each with jaw-dropping ruins, with still more to see. We saw columns, temples, statues of elephant and lion gods, palaces baths and swimming pools for the ancient queen (who was carefully guarded by eunuchs). The dry, hot, rust-colored granite boulders pop up out of the ground, with a lush river, green rice paddies and palm trees running through it all.

The town of Hampi is colorful and haphazardly put together in a fun grid. Mainly 2 story guesthouses, shops and rooftop restaurants, in turquoise, white and pink, it reminds me a bit of Capitola, CA only many local people live amongst the tourists. Hampi is a World Herritage site, and much of the land area has recently been marked by the state archeological government entity as historically protected, which includes an area of land with local housing, which is being demoloshed in phases, with a significant portion already razed, and rows of buildings standing as gutted shells. The bike tour guide, called Krisha, his family had lived next to the tall Virupaksha Temple for several generations. Their house is no longer there, and they were relocated to a rental house 4km away. Some families were given a small amount of relocation money, some were not. Some families were apparently given temporary housing in a currently opperating prison. I offered to help Krishna get his bike tour added to Tripadvisor and up on Facebook. I heard about it from other tourists in a restaurant, otherwise I never would have known about it.

Small children run up to me when I walk by, to say hello and practice their English by asking me for a "school pen". I bought a whole box of pencils yesterday, sharpened them, and have been giving them to local kids, along with "Happydent" gum.

I came across 3 young policemen at one of the monuments, throwing rocks up in a large tree to make mangos fall. They gave me a mango and I asked to take their photograph. They stood infront of a temple and proceeded to take off their belts and unbutton their pants infront of me. I made a funmy face at them and they realized what it looked like and turned around, just wanting to tuck their shirts in, to look their best for the photo. I tried to get an email address from one of them, but they didn't seem to have one, or know how to write it. I gave them some Happydent, and they threw the wrappers on the ground. I motioned and they picked them up. Even in this beautiful, natural, protected place, there is a lot of trash on the ground. I suggestes to Krishna that he organize a trash pixkup day, trying to convince him that the tourists would actually volunteer to pick up trash, and might even buy a "keep Hampi clean" t-shirt.

Hampi

Took the night train from Chennai to Bangalore. Bangalore is dirty. Took the day bus right away to Hampi. No AC but worth it! Cool rocks, like Joshua Tree Nat'l Park amd Enchanted Rock in TX, only with temples and monkeys peppered in. Dirty, tired. Write more tomorrow.

Andaman Islands, Havelock

I had a wonderful time scuba diving and swimming on the most beautiful beach I've ever seen, on Havelock Island! I have no pictures of me with scuba gear, but did take some of the turquoise water and white sand! I did 4 day dives, and 2 night dives, all fun and chock full of fish: several kinds of shrimps, travelli, yellow snapper, fusillier, tuna, barracuda, moray eels, a blue spotted ray, octopus, rock fish, box fish, banner fish, parrot fish, sea urchins, lion fish, nemos, phosphorescent algae, worms, etc!!
I also met several fun divers including a French family from Rennes, a British couple who transplanted to Australia, two Indian pilots, and a rockin couple from Oregon who now call Germany home!
I spent a less fun but nice and quiet 2 nights on Niel Island, then a night in transit in Port Blair. Back in Chennai for a day, waiting for the night train to Bangalore! I'm throwing out plans for Mamallaparam, Pondicherry and Sri Lanka. Maybe next year and, I hope, with friends. It's hot and time to head north!
If I had to do it over again, I would have flown from Kolkatta to Port Blair, and then from Port Blair to Chennai. Chennai and Puri can be skipped completely, continuing on by plane or train to elsewhere. Oh well, it's been cheap and even with the Lonely Planet, I didn't know.