April 23-27, 2007 

We had planned our itinerary specifically to ensure that we arrived in Paris in April so we could experience the quintessential “Paris in the spring” and we were not disappointed. The day we arrived, temperatures skyrocketed to a balmy 25 degrees Celsius and stayed that way until we left Paris; to us, after India’s smothering heat, Paris’ “heat wave” felt like a breath of fresh air. Spring had arrived in full force and the lush greenery and blooming gardens of Paris created a sensory overload that made my heart ache. In contrast to India’s dusty brown landscapes, the sky seemed bluer, the air fresher and the streets were definitely cleaner.

We had five days to see all the sights of Paris and we decided to do as much as possible on foot. It became our routine to have breakfast in our room each morning and pack snacks and drinks for the day. We’d then take the Metro into the city and begin exploring. Sometime around lunch, we would find a boulangerie (bakery) or a grocery store and buy a fresh baguette, meat, cheese and, of course, wine and have a picnic in one of Paris’ many family-friendly parks. Claude and I quickly discovered that, while everything else in Europe is more expensive, the “cheap” wine is a great deal – a 2 Euro bottle of wine knocks the socks off our $10 wines in North America! One of my fondest memories of Paris is of our picnics spent watching the kids play in the park while sharing a bottle wine. The only drawback with sharing a bottle of wine over lunch is that it makes for very lazy afternoons and we often found ourselves abandoning our ambitious sightseeing plans to just wander the streets of Paris. Although there’s something to be said for wandering…

Through careful planning and random meandering, we managed to explore almost every corner of Paris. Over five days, we hit all the major tourist sites like

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the Arc du Triomphe (both during the day and at night),

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the Eiffel Tower,

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Notre Dame, etc. We saw the spectacular views of the city from the Basilica of the Sacre Coeur

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perched atop the butte of Montmartre and got lost in the winding streets of the artists’ district (classic Paris à la La Bohême). Alexa was fascinated by the portrait artists and would have been content to watch them paint all day. We eventually distracted her by having a smiling little Chinese man, whose scissors moved like a blur, produce silhouette cutouts of each of the children in less than 2 minutes.

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Eventually, we ended up in the nightclub district right in front of the Moulin Rouge where the kids and I posed for photos while attempting the can-can.

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We also spent a few hours admiring the impressive family tombs in the massive Cimetière Père Lachaise
(over a million people are buried there!)

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where we found Chopin’s modest grave

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just a few hundred meters from Jim Morrison’s. The thing about Paris is that you can experience it just by walking the streets, enjoying the gorgeous architecture and soaking up the atmosphere. Even the kids didn’t seem to mind being dragged all over the city as long as we stopped to play whenever we passed a park.

Of course, what is a visit to Paris without a trip to the Louvre

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The exterior alone is spectacular and we spent a good part of one afternoon just roaming around the building and exploring the gardens. The next morning we returned bright and early and were among the first 50 people to enter the building. While Claude bought our tickets, I quickly scanned the map and we made a beeline for the Mona Lisa

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where the kids were escorted right in front of the painting by a smiling security guard. Of course Claude and I had to stay behind the velvet ropes but, thanks to the early hour, we had managed to avoid the crowds. For several minutes, Alexa studied the Mona Lisa with an earnest expression on her face like she was committing every brush stroke to memory and later, with the help of a postcard purchased in the museum gift shop, she produced a very good reproduction. Now that we had “met” the most famous resident of the Louvre, we still had several hours of paintings, sculptures and antiquities left to see. In order to avoid boredom, I gave each kid a copy of the museum map which had miniature photos of the most famous pieces in each section of the museum. I challenged them to see who could find the most works of art featured on the map and it worked like a charm. While the kids were on their scavenger hunt, Claude and I were able enjoy the art at our leisure.

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The only problem was trying to contain the kids’ squeals of excitement when they discovered one of the pieces on their map. They were also sent into an uncontrollable fit giggles by a collection of Guiseppe Arcimboldo paintings which were portraits made up entirely of fruits, vegetables and flowers. After a few hours we were completely saturated with art and realized that the Louvre simply cannot be done in one day and resolved to return one day to see all the exhibits we missed the first time around. I was completely impressed by my kids who really seemed to enjoy looking at the paintings and statues and seemed to retain a remarkable amount of information. After our visit to the Louvre, we rewarded the kids’ good behaviour with a trip to McDonald’s and a visit to the playground.

We had gorgeous weather the entire time we were in Paris and absolutely fell in love with the city. In five days we felt we had barely scratched its surface and, like most of our destinations thus far, vowed to return some someday when we had more time to explore and really do it justice. But for now, Burgundy, the French Alps and the Côte d’Azur were calling our names and it was time to move on.

April 22, 2007

After an eight hour overnight flight from Delhi, we arrived Zurich stiff, sore and tired but in relatively good spirits, all things considered.  We had woken early enough to stare in awe at the Alps as we descended into Switzerland – almost, but not quite, as impressive as the Himalayas.  As we hurried through the terminal to catch our connecting flight to Paris, I marveled at its cleanliness and, for the first time in three months, felt woefully underdressed among the chic travelers rushing by us.  I stared incredulously at the price tags on the merchandise in the duty-free shops (really though, who would ever pay 150 Euros for a tie?) and was already starting to miss India where you could eat for an entire day for the price of a coffee in Europe.  

After a minor incident at the boarding gate with an arrogant SwissAir flight attendant, we boarded our flight to Paris.  By now, our kids were experts at flying and could rank most of the international airlines based on quality of food, in-flight entertainment and, most importantly, kiddie presents (you know, the crap the airlines give to kids to keep them quiet during the flight).  So far, Air Emirates was well out in front with their on-demand movies, video games and Santa-worthy goody bags full of toys.  However, SwissAir quickly became a close second when the flight attendants brought them their kid-friendly meals in little red tote bags that were filled with games and toys.   They literally squealed with joy when they were allowed to select from a collection of tiny stuffed farm animals.  After a heated debate, they finally settled on a fluffy yellow chick for Simon and a cute little cow for Alexa which were promptly named Chickie and Lucas (you figure it out).  Not since Claude had insisted on leaving the “Snuffies” behind in the RV had I seen my kids so into their toys.  Chickie and Lucas quickly became cherished members of the family and were to figure prominently in several adventures later in the trip.

As excited as we were to finally see Europe, we were also more than a little nervous about our budget.  Before the trip we had allowed ourselves an overall budget of $200Cdn/day (including lodging, meals, transportation, recreation, etc).  We had overshot this budget by quite a bit in New Zealand and Australia but had more than made up for it in Southeast Asia, Nepal and India and were now right on target.  However, since Europe is undeniably one of the most expensive travel destinations in the world, we had our work cut out for us to stay on track.  After arriving at Charles De Gaulle Airport in Paris, we saved cab fare by jumping on the Metro and headed to a budget hotel in the suburbs.  By doing a little research, I had discovered that, since hostels charge by the bed, we were better off in a budget hotel like the Balladins chain.  By going outside the city proper, we saved a bundle and found a decent place for 50 Euros a night within walking distance of the Metro (no need to rent a car).  The only problem was that France has a strict rule that hotels are not allowed to exceed the listed room occupancy and it is almost impossible to find a room that sleeps four.  Luckily, I managed to book a triple room online (1 double and a single) and the manager didn’t notice the extra kid when we checked in.  Once we got to our room, we slipped the maid a 5 Euro note to bring us an extra cot and we were all set.   Once settled in, it was time for our first excursion – to the grocery store!  After three months in Asia, we were thrilled to wander up and down the air-conditioned aisles and marvel at selection of familiar foods available (while gasping at the prices).  We loaded up on croissants, peanut butter, jelly, OJ, deli meats, olives, cheese, a baguette, lots of snack foods and a 2 Euro bottle of wine and headed back to our hotel for a feast and a good night’s sleep before starting our adventures in Paris. 

We were pleasantly surprised by the New Delhi zoo which had a wide variety of animals, just like North American zoos.  We were especially impressed with the indigenous animals like the majestic white tigers and the enormous Himalayan bear that looked like it could smack down a grizzly in a rumble.
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Thanks to the scorching heat, we pretty much had the place to ourselves as we enjoyed our private walking safari. When the heat finally drove us out of the zoo, it was only 3PM and we still had almost 12 hours to kill before our flight. Our driver, Sanjay, came to our rescue when he suggested that he drop us off at a water park for the rest of the afternoon. The kids were ecstatic since the last time they had seen waterslides was in Bali (Waterbom).

Upon arrival, we quickly discovered that, like a lot of other things in New Delhi, it was a very “Indian” version of a North American phenomenon.  When we purchased our entry tickets we were asked if we wanted to rent bathing suits (eeww!).  Apparently very few locals actually own a bathing suit as swimming is not a common leisure activity.  Fortunately, considering cultural sensitivity, I had already decided to forgo the bikini and had brought my lycra running shorts and t-shirt.  I was especially relieved when I saw the selection of fashions available to rent.  The men were all wearing multi-coloured striped swim trunks that looked like they were made from a recycled circus tent while the women’s suits looked like they were designed in the 1930’s; most had sleeves and a skirt and hung off the wearer like a garbage bag.  The park itself was a faded replica of a 1980’s North American water park with worn Astroturf and peeling paint.  However, the slides seemed sturdy enough and the kids were happy, so what did we care.  I got my kicks watching a group of well-heeled 20-something Indian guys and girls cavorting in the wading pool (in their rented bathing suits) under a raining mushroom while singing Hindi pop songs at the top of their lungs.  I guess some things are universal.

Finally, at 7PM it was closing time and Sanjay met us in the parking lot to deliver us to the airport.  Seasoned travelers that we were, we decided that, since our 10 hour flight to Paris wasn’t leaving until 2AM, it would be a good idea to arrive at the airport ahead of the crowds, check in early and get settled at the gate.  That way we could find a quiet spot to make temporary beds for the kids so that they could watch a movie on the laptop and catch a few hours sleep before the flight.  Smart, eh?  Well, as usual, Indian government officials had other plans for us.  After saying goodbye to Sanjay in front of the departure gates we gathered up our bags (considerably more than we were used to since we were carrying all the souvenirs we had purchased in India, including 3 tablecloths, 2 bedspreads and several large wall-hangings) and tried to enter the terminal.  We were promptly stopped at the door by an armed guard who demanded to see our tickets.  After examining them closely, he declared that we were not allowed in the terminal because our flight was not until tomorrow!  Despite my protests that our flight was, in fact at 2AM tomorrow, he insisted that we were not permitted to enter the terminal until 3 hours before our flight.  Great!  I gritted my teeth while Claude explained to him that we were stranded at the airport with two small children and no transportation and asked where exactly where we were supposed to go.  The guard waved vaguely in the direction of a building across the street and said we had to wait in the Passenger Departure Lounge.  So, once again, we gathered up our bags, grabbed the kids’ hands and, with our hearts in our mouths, staggered across six busy lanes of traffic.  At the door of the departure lounge was, yet another armed guard who, again, demanded to see our tickets (like we would come there just to hang out for the fun of it!).   He informed us that, since we were there more than five hours before our flight (45 minutes over) we would have to pay 60 rupees each (about $2 Cdn) for the privilege of using the facilities.  By this time, I was so riled up that I was ready to camp out beside his table for 45 minutes just to tick him off.  However, Claude’s cooler head prevailed and he paid the man so we could finally go sit down in what looked like a Greyhound bus terminal.

So much for well-laid plans – at 11PM we shook our groggy kids awake and dragged them back across six lanes of traffic in the dark only to discover that there was now a twenty minute wait just to get into the terminal (apparently most flights take off late at night in Delhi).  Ditto at check-in and immigration – after what seemed like our 20^th security check, we finally arrived at the gate well after midnight.  To their credit, our intrepid kids took it all in stride and, despite almost falling asleep standing up, complained very little and went straight to sleep when we finally reached the gate. 

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Claude and I, on the other hand, were cranky and frazzled after battling through so many line-ups so late at night.  You see, in South Asia, people have a very different perspective on line-up etiquette and personal space than in the West.  As on the roads, it is useless to delineate lanes as people move to fill space as soon as it is vacated.  On the highways, the general rule of thumb is to add two lanes to the number that are actually marked.  For instance, a two-lane highway will accommodate four lanes and you’ll typically find six vehicles abreast on a four-lane highway.  The same applies in line-ups as the “first come first served” rule is replaced by “every man, woman and child for himself.”  People will unabashedly move directly in front of you in line if given the slightest window of opportunity (i.e. enough room to get by).  At one point, as we waited in line to have our bags scanned, a man pushed past us with his baggage cart and parked himself directly in front of us.  Over the next few minutes he was joined by his entire extended family (about 12 people).  When Claude loudly cleared his throat and asked if there was some sort of emergency, they stared at us placidly as if they had done nothing rude whatsoever.   After that, we endeavoured to take up as much space as possible by positioning our carts at odd angles and keeping our elbows jutted out to discourage illegal passing.  I got good at subtly sliding my backpack in the way when I spotted someone sidling up beside us.  It was also unnerving to have people literally breathing down our necks, staring curiously at us and patting the children on the head, even when we were going through the immigration counter.  I guess, as the token Westerners, we were a curiosity in a country of a billion people where personal space is a luxury that most cannot afford.

I guess I should have expected that our departure from this country would be as eventful as our entry.  To see more of our photos from India, check out our web album:

India

After our early getaway from Jodhpur, we made good time to Pushkar which is well-known for its famous camel fair. Each October, the town is inundated with thousands of buyers and sellers of over 50,000 camels causing this quiet town of 15,000 to explode with excitement and activity. It has also become a bit of a tourist attraction and we had mixed feelings about having missed it. In the end, though, like most other places we had been, we were glad to be able to see the quieter side of Pushkar on our own terms without having to deal with throngs of people – especially tourists (as opposed to seasoned “travelers” like us). After we settled into our charming hotel on the outskirts of town, Claude decided he needed to stretch his legs and decided to climb up to Gayatri’s temple which sat atop a nearby cliff overlooking Pushkar. The kids had no interest in hiking in the intense heat so I stayed behind with them and we did lessons until they were climbing the walls. Finally, we decided to take a break and go explore the marketplace. This was one of the first times I had ventured forth into an Indian market with the kids without Claude by my side and the dynamic was very interesting. Without Claude’s intimidating male presence, everyone seemed to feel at ease approaching us and calling out as we passed. Children scampered along behind us and shyly asked for candy while women and teenage girls and boys called “Hi, Mommy!” and “Hi, Boy!” and “Hi, Girl!” as we passed. They seemed to be enthralled by the sight a single Western woman traveling alone with two children. Their gentle smiling faces lit up when we responded and called “Hello!” and “Namaste” back to them and some actually followed us for a while, asking questions in broken English as we wandered through the colourful marketplace admiring the beautiful fabrics, spices and exotic smelling food for sale. The kids were delighted by the many monkeys that scurried along the rooftops and hung around the market hoping for a handout from a sympathetic food vendor.

As we finally made our way back to our hotel, all of our new friends waved and called out to us from their doorways as we passed, making us feel like visiting dignitaries.

As home to the only Brahma temple in the world, Pushkar is considered to be one of the most important pilgrimage sites for people of the Hindu faith. When Claude returned from his hike, we decided to walk down to Pushkar Lake which is considered extremely holy by Hindus, many of whom travel hundreds of miles to be blessed and cleansed in its waters.

As we wandered down toward the lake we were approached by a local Brahma priest and asked if we would like to receive a blessing. We knew it would cost us, but were curious enough about the cultural experience to go ahead anyway. He led us down the steps of one the marble bathing ghats to the water’s edge where another priest took Claude aside to deliver his own blessing. Alexa and Simon watched in silent fascination as the priest said a prayer and asked me to dip my hands in the lake and recite a blessing in Sanskrit (it was eerily like saying wedding vows in a foreign language). I then received a tilak (rice and red coloured powder) on my forehead and a raki (a string bracelet, denoting a blessing). The priest then explained that all of my bad karma had been washed away replaced by good karma (a sort of Hindu baptism). He then gave me the opportunity to provide good karma to our loved ones at home by making a donation (surprise!). Between the two of us, Claude and I bought a few hundred rupees worth of good karma for all of you at home – hope you enjoyed it. As an added bonus, the fact that we were now wearing raki bracelets meant that we had already made a donation and no one from any of the fifty or more temples in Pushkar could harass us for another one – not that they didn’t try.

After enjoying a delicious meal while watching the sun set over Pushkar Lake we retired to our hotel for a good night’s sleep before heading back to Delhi. However, all through the night, I dreamt that I was in the middle of a raucous marketplace with people chattering away in Hindi all around me. I finally woke around 6AM to discover that the noises were coming from outside. I went to the window and peered out, only to discover that our hotel had been surrounded by about twenty vehicles ranging from full-sized buses to camel carts.

The many occupants of the vehicles had disembarked and were in various states of sleeping, stretching and socializing just below our window. I spied a group of men squatting in a circle in the field behind our hotel and exclaimed, “Are they doing what I think they’re doing?”

“Holy crap!” said Claude as he joined me at the window.

“That’s what I thought,” I responded as I closed the drapes. By the time we went up to the roof for breakfast, the field was full of about fifty people doing their business in full view of everyone, including those of us trying in vain to enjoy our breakfast. At least the women were afforded some privacy by their voluminous saris. Our waiter informed us that the sudden influx of people was due to a mass wedding of 73 couples that was taking place in Pushkar that day. Apparently, it’s common to have group weddings in order to allow poor couples and their families to pool their limited resources to pay for the lavish celebrations. We decided to walk through town to see the famous Brahma Temple before heading back to Delhi and were amazed at how crowded the streets were compared to the previous day.

The market was a moving kaleidoscope of colour as brides in brightly coloured saris and grooms dressed in full wedding regalia paraded up and down the streets in celebration with their wedding parties. At the Brahma Temple we had to leave our shoes outside (for a fee) before climbing the long flight of stairs to the main sanctuary where a white-robed woman played a nose flute as people solemnly lined up to pray, leave offerings and receive blessings.

Finally, it was time to leave the Brahma Temple and Pushkar and head back to Delhi where we would catch our flight to Paris the following day. Our tour of Rajasthan was complete.

To see more of our photos from India, visit our web album:

India

The next town on our itinerary was Jodhpur, the Blue City, where all the buildings are painted blue, apparently because the colour blue absorbs very little of the sun’s heat and this keeps the houses cool (you’ve got to wonder why only Jodhpur seems to be in on this secret). On the way to Jodhpur, we had a near miss with a crazy cyclist who attempted to cross traffic in front of us while we were doing about 80 km/h. Sanjay demonstrated his proficiency as a driver by managing to swerve around the wobbling bike while simultaneously avoiding a head-on collision with an oncoming truck. I will never forget the wide-eyed terror in the eyes of the cyclist as he passed within inches of my window. As soon as he regained control, Sanjay slammed on the brakes and looked over at Claude. “May I teach him a lesson, sir?” he asked.

“By all means,” replied Claude and Sanjay rolled up his sleeves and jumped out of the car to confront the cyclist whose life he had just saved. The cyclist, however, seeing the fury in Sanjay’s eyes, wisely gave him a wide berth and quickly pedaled away without an apology.

In Jodhpur we went straight to the Mehrangarh Fort, a fabulous museum where we discovered the wonder of the audio tour. The kids absolutely loved running around finding the numbers on the map and listening to the explanation of the exhibits. They refused to leave until they had listened to each and every entry in its entirety and spent days spouting useless bits of trivia about Jodhpur’s history. At least it shows they were listening. Next to the Taj Mahal, it was probably the most fascinating tourist site we visited in India.

I felt emotion well up within me as we looked at the vermillion handprints of the queens who had committed “sati” by immolating themselves on the funeral pyres of their dead husbands who had been defeated in battle. The tradition of sati was abolished in 1829 but continued in secret until time of Gandhi and my heart ached as I imagined of the solemn procession of courageous women making the ultimate sacrifice in the name of virtue and honour.

After the fort, we took a break from history as Sanjay took us to a tiny café in Jodhpur’s central market which is famous for its wonderful lassi, a creamy yogurt drink that is popular in Asia. It was definitely a hot spot with the locals and I noticed that we were the only Westerners as we jostled to find a spot in the busy little café. Despite my instinct that consuming a yogurt drink in 45 degree weather in India wasn’t the smartest thing to do, Sanjay assured us that the shop-owner prided himself on his high standards and that we had no worries about getting sick. We decided to take a chance and we weren’t disappointed – the lassies were delectable and creamy, unlike anything we’d tried before and our GI tracts survived without so much as a rumble.

We were disappointed, however, by our guesthouse which installed us on the top floor under the blazing sun as the mercury topped 46 degrees Celsius. They gave us the choice of two rooms, a tiny one with a questionable air-conditioner and a bathroom that reeked of urine or a large beautiful room with a clean bathroom and an “air-cooler.” We couldn’t tolerate the urine smell and had doubts about the A/C so we chose the larger room. The “air-cooler” turned out to be a big humidifier that blew hot ambient air through a screen soaked with water, dropping the air temperature by a few degrees. The end result was like a kind of sauna and that night we all slept in our underwear directly in front of the fan to keep from dying from the heat and humidity.

The next morning we couldn’t wait to leave, but made a quick stop to see the Umaid Bhavan Palace and hotel which is the summer home of the Maharaja as well as a popular getaway for rich Bollywood stars. Needless to say, we didn’t make it past the doorman.

So it was on to Pushkar!

We returned to our hotel in Bikaner dusty and happy after our wonderful visit with Hansu and her family. Despite the lack of air-conditioning, we hadn’t been bothered by the 45+ temperatures and the kids had been remarkably well-behaved. As a reward, we decided to take them to the Russian Circus which was performing in Bikaner that evening. I feared for the safety of the performers when I saw the state of the tent (more holes than canvas) and the frayed ropes used to support the safety nets.

There were only four performers who looked even remotely Russian while the rest looked like recruits from local high schools who half-heartedly went through the motions of performing with bored expressions on their faces. It felt like a bad Saturday Night Live skit. The Russian acrobats, who looked like ex-gymnasts, did their best to carry the show, but the end result was a tragic comedy and we bailed at the first intermission. Cirque du Soleil has nothing to fear from the IndoRussian Circus.

The next morning we left early for Jaisalmer, the Golden City, so named for the beautiful golden hue of its natural sandstone buildings. Jaisalmer is one of the most remote of Rajasthan’s towns and has a mystical Arabian Nights quality about it. That night, we headed out into the desert for an overnight camel safari where we would sleep on camp cots under the stars (to keep us out of the way of inquisitive scorpions and snakes).

I had worried about sore backsides after several hours on a camel, but we were pleasantly surprised by our comfortable mounts. Our guide, Devi Singh, was very knowledgeable and informative and spoke perfect English, despite the fact that he’d never traveled further than Delhi.

He told us that he’d learned English by being a guide and had learned about the world from the tourists he’d guided for the past twenty years. He was well-versed in current events and spoke intelligently about India and the plight of its people. Once we reached our camp, we left Devi Singh and Soy Singh, his assistant, to set up camp while we climbed the Khuri Dunes to enjoy a spectacular desert sunset.

As the dusk deepened into night we sat by the fire and enjoyed the best meal we’d had in India, traditional dal prepared by Devi Singh.

As we sat around our fire, Claude read to the children from “The Alchemist” and Devi listened intently to the story of a young shepherd who traveled across the desert in a camel caravan while in search of his destiny. When Claude finished reading, Devi smiled and said that the author was a very wise man who understood the desert and the ways of the world very well. I thought to myself that we had discovered a very wise man ourselves and wished that we had more time to spend with this gentle, intelligent man.

After supper, we tucked the children into bed on their camp cots under the stars and sat up for a while chatting with Devi. As he told us stories of the desert and the stars, I stared up at the night sky like I’d never seen it before. Away from the light pollution of the cities, I could see more stars than I had ever seen before and the sky came alive like a three-dimensional tapestry with the Milky Way splashed across it. This was one of those moments that I wanted to last forever when I felt like my heart would burst with the emotion I was feeling and I thanked God for giving us the courage to take this trip together. Even after we crawled into bed ourselves, I woke every few hours to gaze at the heavens in awe until I drifted off again to dream of flying carpets and magic lamps. Claude and I woke up in time to enjoy the sunrise and watch the dunes change colours as the morning light washed over them.

When the kids woke up, they ran around excitedly looking at the many tracks that crisscrossed our camp, trying to guess which desert inhabitant had made them. Finally, we climbed aboard our camels and returned to the village to enjoy a hearty breakfast before heading back to Jaisalmer where we toured the local fort and bought some souvenirs before succumbing to the heat and spending a few hours by the pool. That evening, we bought some “child” beer and relaxed on the rooftop of our hotel while watching the golden city glow amber in the light of the setting sun.

This was India at its best.

To see the rest of our photos from India, go to our web album.

India

To act or not to act

Pretty convincing, huh?

Just in case anyone is wondering what has happened to us, we are still alive and well. Unfortunately, I fell seriously behind on blogging once when we were travelling around Europe and Africa and never managed to catch up. The good news is that I kept a written journal and will be converting it to blog material very soon. Some of the most exciting times on our trip happened in Europe and Africa so there is much more exciting stuff to come. If you want a sneak preview, just go to our web album and check out our photos.

FYI, we are currently back in Canada and getting settled back into “real life”. We returned in early August and relocated to a new province (Quebec), bought a new home and cars, got the kids enrolled in school and had to start making some $$ to pay for it all. Hence the lack of blogging…

I plan on adding some new material soon so stay posted!

To see photos of our new home check out our web album:

Our New Home

April 15

After leaving Jaipur, we headed to Bikaner where, after a quick side-trip to visit the rat temple (ick!),

we checked into the Hotel Harasar Haveli and enjoyed a lovely sunset meal at their rooftop restaurant while watching the locals fly hundreds of kites from their roofs.

We had finally reached another milestone on our trip and were about to accomplish another of the goals we had set for ourselves at the beginning of our trip – we were going to meet our foster child, twelve year old Hansu, and her family in a tiny desert village 75km from Bikaner. Before our trip, I had contacted Plan Canada (formerly Foster Parents Plan) to set up the visit and we had gotten police checks and signed the necessary paperwork before leaving Canada. In actual fact, when you sponsor a child through Plan Canada, you are essentially contributing to an entire community by supporting programs which help to make the community more self-sustainable. You are assigned a child to help to put a face to the project and give you a personal connection. Regardless, we had watched Hansu grow up in pictures for the past four years while Alexa and Simon had grown up hearing stories about Hansu (especially when they wouldn’t eat their vegetables) and we were all excited to meet her.

Maneesh, the local Plan representative, came to our hotel the night we arrived to go over the details of our visit with us and answer any questions we might have. The next morning, he and the director of the local Plan office in Kolayat picked us up and escorted us to Hansu’s village in the middle of the Thar Desert. We spent the next hour and a half in the unair-conditioned Jeep, bumping over the dunes on a crude single lane road which we shared with people, bicycles, trucks and camels. It was over 45 degrees Celsius in the desert and the wind blew hot on our faces. I got a little nervous when we got a flat tire on the unforgiving road in the middle of nowhere,

but Maneesh and the driver changed the tire in fifteen minutes flat and we were on our way again.

When we arrived in Hansu’s community, we discovered that it was nothing more than a scattered collection of huts spread out over a large area. Hansu’s family compound consisted of three small mud huts surrounded by a mud fence;

their yard had been swept clean and a beautiful welcome symbol had been painted on the ground. The family was waiting to greet us with a formal welcome ceremony where we each received a tikat (red dot on the forehead) from Hansu’s older sister and Claude got a turban from her father, Ganga Ram, while I received a shawl from her mother, Jamna Devi.

All the local kids hung around eagerly, not wanting to miss a thing. Finally, we got to meet the person we had traveled so far and waited for so long to meet as Hansu shyly emerged from the back of the crowd to solemnly shake our hands and lead us into the sleeping hut.

At first, we felt a little awkward as we sat down on their beds and looked around at their tiny dwelling and meager possessions, but they quickly put us at ease as they served us tea and introduced us to Hansu’s tiny niece.

Hansu’s mother, Jamna Devi, was spirited and joyful, welcoming us into her home while Ganga Ram was more reserved and shy, sitting sternly on the bed next to Claude.

Soon, however, he seemed to bond with Claude who, looking hilarious in his enormous turban made an effort to bring him out of his shell. To break the ice between the children, who were shyly staring at each other, we brought out a bag of gifts we had brought for them and Simon quickly disappeared outside with the boys to play basketball in the yard while Alexa and Hansu played beauty parlour by brushing each other’s hair and painting their nails.

The family was all smiles as we managed to communicate with Maneesh acting as interpreter. Jamna Devi, who has been trained by Plan medical staff to be the local healthcare provider, proudly showed me her box of medical supplies which included a “pharmacy” of medicines with pictures to describe their proper uses.

Maneesh told us that there is so little rain in the region that they are only able to harvest crops once every few years. In the years when there is rain, they have to harvest enough food to last several years. For the past few years, there has been such a drought, that Hansu’s brothers have had to travel far away to find work so that they can send money to help support the family.

For lunch, Hansu’s sister-in-law prepared us a traditional meal of chapatti, goat’s milk yoghurt, and a green mixture made from spices and a type of local bean.

The kids weren’t too interested, but Claude and I were impressed by the quality and flavour of the food in such an arid environment. After lunch, we got a tour of the immaculate family compound which consisted of a sleeping hut (sleeps 10), a kitchen hut and a small stable for their goats and chickens. In the kitchen hut, Claude and I got to grind the grain used to make the flour for chapattis. Back in the sleeping hut, the women sang a spirited traditional song for us and asked us to sing a “Canadian” song for them. The only song we all knew was “O Canada,” which sounded formal and stuffy after their carefree tune. Then Ganga Ram and Jamna Devi posed solemnly for photos while the children played happily together. Before we left, Claude downloaded our photos onto the laptop and showed everyone a slideshow of our visit. Everyone gathered eagerly around the computer, laughing delightedly when they saw themselves on the screen.

Finally, it was time to go and we were truly sorry to go. Ganga Ram gave Claude an enormous hug and clapped him on the back like his best friend as everyone gathered around for a final group photo and many more hugs.

As we drove away from the village, I smiled to myself as I reflected on our wonderful visit. What could have been a depressing, heart-wrenching experience had turned out to be an incredibly uplifting encounter with exceptionally resourceful people who find great joy in simple pleasures. It had warmed my heart to see the family togetherness and their pride in their community. Throughout the day, I had found myself getting choked up as I watched our children play together, transcending language barriers as only children can. I felt honoured to have been allowed a glimpse into their lives, so different from our own, yet demonstrating the universality of family values and togetherness. It reinforced for me the growing realization that happiness is not linked to material possessions, but to a feeling of togetherness, belonging and purpose. I was proud that our family was able to contribute in some small way to help make their lives a little easier. Somehow, though, I felt that it was we who had been on the receiving end that day.

I can’t say enough about Maneesh and his team who made our visit possible and went out of their way to ensure that we had a wonderful experience. It was also amazing to see firsthand the projects they have put in place to ensure that the communities have clean water, medical care and education and know that our money is being put to good use. If you are interested in helping a community in India, or any part of the developing world, you can get information on the Plan Canada website.

To see the rest of the photos from our visit with Hansu and her family, go to our Hansu's Visit

“>web album.