Calcutta

Egg roll stands every 100 yards. Thick dough, fried in ghee, they cook an egg on top, layer in onions, spices, Indian ketchup and hot sauce, then load it with your choice of cheese, chicken or mutton. Indian meets China: heaven


The sweets man on the corner has a suitcase full of petit fours that he displays. I buy one in the morning, but always end up giving half to the children who cluster around begging for one. The street kids here are professional quality. One followed me for two blocks, tugging on my arm to make me drop the ice cream cone I was eating. The Indians all found it enormously funny, and I was tempted to give her something for her persistence, but didn't want her to inflict herself on the next tourist.


Fish, the only seafood I've felt comfortable eating in India. I'll have to wait until Thailand to try some more as I don't think it's part of the Nepalese diet at all


The Jewish baker in the marketplace who makes rolls that taste just like the supermarket ones Ya-Ya buys for thanksgiving . . .I had 4 for breakfast this morning.

PayPal must die

So pay pal flipped out when I made a payment from India, and has locked the account to a credit card I canceled before I left! They've mailed a confirmation code to my previous address, and refuse to put the money I tried to pay someone back in my bank account until I enter some goddamn code. Pay Pal is evil, evil. All I receive are form emails, and they are currently making interest on a substantial amount of my money, while I try calling the customer service number in vain. American culture has intruded on my idyll, and I'm not enjoying the experience.

Khajuraho

Spent 11 hours traveling to Khajuraho, at the recommendation of a slightly batty American woman I met in the gardens of the Taj Mahal. The air conditioned train journey to Jhansi was freezing, and I and all my seat mates had the same cold, so we huddled in shawls and sniffed sympathetically with each other. Then the typical train station rickshaw experience. The driver takes you slowly to your destination, while his friend hops along for the ride and tries to convince you to go to his hotel/take his tour/use his taxi. Made it to the bus stand (filled with garbage and the odour of urine), and waited 1.5 hours for the next "express" bus to Khajuraho. Then five hours on an un-air conditioned carriage, crammed in with my fellow passengers. It only really became hell when the bus stopped and all air movement ceased as the driver and his two helpers tried to drum up more business. They were standing packed in the aisles by the 3rd hour, and I was very glad for my window seat. The temples here are worth the ride though, and the hotel is so clean I didn't wear my flip flops in the shower, and they even provide soap, sheets and a towel. $10 a night versus $5 is blowing the budget, but I'm happy for the pampering. No air conditioning though, so the 40+ temperatures are gruelling.

Walked around the temple complex this morning. The sweat was pouring off of me, but the carvings are amazing, the gardens are beautiful, and there are no touts allowed inside. I've uploaded some of the photos, but it's hard to describe how cool they are. Each temple features literally thousands of statues in full relief, with a particular focus on women. There are scenes from every day life (a woman picking up a child, two lovers dodging a monkey), gods and goddesses, lots of war scenes, and some pretty intense erotica. The funniest might be the man fucking a horse, as a women covers her eyes but peeks through her fingers, half horrified, and half intrigued. All perfectly preserved in the soft sand stone, which with the color and the movement of light and shadow as you walk around the building almost makes the images come alive. The sculptors must have loved their job, as each figure is an individual, with a unique facial features. They might show the same god in three successive panels, but each one features a different pose. Worth the heat, which is saying a lot. Then spent an hour under the trees at the refreshment stand, drinking coca-cola and talking to a local MPTD official (Malay Pradesh Tourist Department). He moved here from Delhi, but regrets that the railroad will soon come to Khajuraho, bringing hordes of tourists. I can't imagine how that will change this place. Good for the local economy, and would be happy to be spared the bus ride, but it's nice to be a a sleepy Indian village.

Agra

This morning, I woke up at 6 and walked out to see the Taj Mahal in the dawn light from the roof top of the flea bag hotel where I spent the night. It's convenient to the Taj Mahal, but having spent the morning gazing on pristine beauty, I'm looking for a nicer place in town. I can't really begin to describe that building. Like all of India, what struck me the most was the contrast, of the poor district clustered around it's gates, and the 750 Rh fee for foreigners to enter. The building to so huge and gleaming, that you don't notice the thousands of tourists passing though at all. Interesting too that the current building is in many ways the work of modern artisans, as things are constantly crumbling and being repaired.

Spent the rest of the day washing clothes, talking to some nice German girls and an English couple on a 12 month trip around the world in the very clean hostel somewhere in Agra. There was a giant thunderstorm that evening, so didn't make it back to the Taj Mahal to see it by sunset. All the tourist only talk to each other, because most conversations with locals invariably devolve into the pet charity they would like you to give money to, the tour guide service that they run, or their past experiences with foreign women. Very polite and nice people, invariably couched in the most respectful terms, which makes you feel so awful about saying no. I am developing a thicker skin. Or maybe westerners are just weird about money, and the Indians take a much more up-front view of the whole thing.

Agra - First Impressions

India is too much to describe; I think I need a few more days to digest the last day in Delhi before trying to put the experience into words, as you so often say. Saw the Taj Mahal as the sun rose this hazy morning. Walking through the warren of Old Delhi, which as poor as it seemed, is no where near as bad as an actual India slum, then riding the extraordinarily clean Delhi Metro, guarded by police with machine guns. Arriving in Agra at the tail end of the curfew from the riots. Too many jumbled images floating around.

I'm off to Khajuraho tomorrow. Hindu temples full of exquisitely preserved erotic carvings. Then on to Varanasi.