Three days left and already I have a funny feeling in my stomach... no wait... I think that's from something that I ate four days ago at the Malhotra Restaurent... funny thing is I ordered chinese food! I've been just laying low in Delhi since my Agra venture. My days now consist of waking early, showering, finding a place for breakfast, running back to the hotel before the humid heat hits me like a ton of bricks, hiding in my hotel room all afternoon until evening when I venture back out for a place to eat dinner, and say a special prayer in hopes that I don't get anymore stomach problems (like I have had in the last four days... that funny feeling in my stomach is no joke.. and it's not really that funny!).

I hide in my hotel room during the day for a few reasons:

1 - To stay away from the scorching heat and bask in the wind from the ceiling fan. I don't dare turn on the A/C in fear that I'll shock my system.

2 - In hopes that my lungs don't explode from the pollution... I may have to take up smoking when I return home just to acclimatize.

3 - So that I'm always just a dash away from the toilet (especially these last four days...)

4 - So that I can shower every few hours and wash the sweat (not to mention the grime) away hoping that the feeling of freshness will stay as long as a hindi movie...

5 - To watch as many Sharukh Khan films until my brain bursts with disgust of how cheesy hindi films are (who am I kidding... I bought a few to take home and I find myself singing along to the ones I know).

I think I'm ready to head back to good ol' Canada... so all you T.O. guys I'll popping in for a ten day visit. Hope I'll see you.

Upon arriving into Delhi, I thought it about time to visit Agra and see the famed Taj Mahal. Words from last year when I returned home haunted me... "WHAT?... India... and you didn't see the Taj Mahal?... Are you crazy?..." So I thought now was my time to go and be awed by the wondrous, majectic Taj Mahal. I figured I only needed a day trip since Agra isn't too far from Delhi and that way I don't have to trek about with my heavy rucksack. I was pleased with myself when I purchased my round-trip bus ticket for Agra from the nearest travel agent. I was able to bring down his fare to Rs220 while my hotel guy wouldn't budge from Rs350. It was to be a non-A/C bus but it didn't matter... the bus was leaving early in the morning when it is still 'fairly' cool (6:30am) and arrive in Agra at 10am. And again leave for Delhi at 7pm to arrive at 1pm. I was excited... I'm finally going to get to see the Taj!

That night I laid out my clothes and bought some bananas to munch on for the morning bus trip. My plan was to have a leisurely breakfast upon arrival in a nice A/C restaurent and cool off from the bus trip and let the hottest part of the day pass by. Finally I would check out the Taj and meander about the town.
I got up with plenty of time to spare, showered, dressed, grabbed my bananas and went down to the travel agency to wait to be brought to the bus. Except... no one was there. So I waited... 1/2 hour later someone came by with a mobile phone, looked at me, said "Agra?...", I nodded, and with a flick of his head motioned me to follow him. So I did. I was brought to the bus where I sat for another hour, all the while my banana bunch was getting smaller... I was hungry and I hadn't yet had breakfast. By 8am we were on the road to Agra... my excitement returned.

One of the 'bus guys' tried to sell me a package to see the Taj and the Fort and return back the next day by train... he was persistent but I was just as stubborn and said no. I had my plans and my round-trip ticket and that was all I needed.
We finally arrived by 2 O'clock... a little behind schedule. We drove through the town and I mentally took stock and decided where I wanted to meander. Finally we stopped at the Agra Fort. It seemed a little far from the other end of town but there were rickshaws around so I wasn't going to worry. I didn't care to see the Fort... my stomach was angry with me... no breakfast, and so far no lunch, and sick of bananas. I got off the bus but just in time to hear the guy at the front say "we depart in 45min". I was a little confused so I went to clarify the bus time for the evening. Aaah... it turns out that I was mistaken. What I thought was a round-trip ticket to Agra and back was actually a tour of Agra with a set schedule of: Fort, lunch, Taj, Shopping, Holy Places (two temples), and back to Delhi by 2am. This was not what I wanted and asked to pick up the bus later in the evening... but all I got for an answer was "no possible madam".

Great... I was on a tour of Agra... only white girl on the bus... with a guide who spoke only hindi... and a growling stomach. I was no longer thrilled!
I wanted the 'restaurent part' now... with only half the time time left I thought I might as well go and see the Fort. Except that it was a hefty fee (for foreigners that is) and I had only set aside some rupees for food and the Taj. I bought a ticket for 'Indians' (only Rs20 instead of Rs350... the foreigner rate) to see it I could fool the guards as well as I could in Kashmir... no luck... the guards with the big guns made me a little hesitant and that's where my Hindi failed me. I was forced to buy a foreigner's ticket but with only 15min left there was no time to see the Fort.

At last food... or so I thought. These guys don't like to follow their own schedules. Instead, shopping came next. I thought we'd be let loose in the local market but instead the bus brought us to one very expensive 'marble and other assorted crafts' store which was strategically far from anything else. The only thing I was enjoying ws the A/C and a bag of potatoe chips that I bought at a little nearby chip stand. An hour later, back on the bus and headed for the Taj.

I was determined to have something to eat so as not to faint from dehydration or lack of food (I don't know how the others did it... there must have been a restaurent in the Fort!). We had an hour and a half at the Taj. Everyone headed straight for it while I tookd a horse-pulled rickshaw in search for a restaurent. I didn't want pop or chips which were being sold all over the streets. It was just after 4pm when I finally found a quiet place to eat which was appropriately called "Lucky Restaurent". But now I was fearing I wouldn't get to see the Taj as we had to be back on the bus at 5pm. I ordered some dal, chapati, and water all the while cursing my stomach for being so hungry. Time was running out. Food came and I still hadn't seen the Taj. But the little restaurent stood up to it's name for from the rooftop there was a great view of the Taj. So up I went... and there it was. Though, admittedly, it lost some of its majesticness seeing it overtop of hundreds of rooftops... but still... I finally got to see the Taj!

I tried a duck egg the other day, just prior from leaving Srinagar. With my nose turned up and my mouth already in the 'yuck' position I put a piece of the fried egg in my mouth. I has the same texture as, though much brighter than, the average chicken egg... its yolk is orangy-red and its size is a tad larger and the shell is softly spotted with a sandy colour. The taste is somewhat similar but I just couldn't get past the whole 'duck-thing'. They come about in flocks around the HB and I talk to them... how am I supposed to eat one of their eggs? Nonetheless, I tried a bite and then tried another but I stopped at two. I've decided that duck eggs are best left for the locals and besides they are much to heavy on the stomach first thing in the morning.

This also reminds me of the time when I was fishing of the side of the boat. A favourite past time on Dal Lake on those hot days, under the shade of a lily pad leaf (find a great big one, snip the stem and 'voila'... a perfect sun hat for fishing). Usually I fish when other members of the family are around or I sit back with whoever is fishing, stare at the water and urge the fish to eat... of course I learned to speak to the fish in Kashmiri as these fish have always lived here. Everyone thinks I'm crazy that I talk with the fish but they encourage me probably so that they can have a good laugh at my accent! This particular time I sat quietly on the front of the boat. no nibbling was happenning... they weren't to interested in flour and water today. The bit of dough on a hook hanging from a bamboo pole just wasn't fooling them. But than out of nowhere, the little floaty 'thingy' started to bob up and down, I was getting excited, I now understood the thrill of the hunt! At the opportune moment I yanked the line up and there he was... about the size of my foot (well, maybe not quite as wide!). I called someone... anyone... because in the past someone was always around to take the fish off the hook. But no on came. It was just me and the fish. The fish didn't look too happy... in fact his eyes were bulging and his gills were puffing in and out. And I just stood there dumbstruck with the rod in my hand watching the fish thrashing about... my eyes wide open, practically hyperventilating wondering what to do next. I took a deep breath and took hold of the fish... he was slimy and thrashing which made it hard to get the hook out of his mouth. The more he moved the more I panicked. The look of death in the eyes of the fish matched my wild eyes of fear for it was at this moment that I realized that it was I who had the power to keep him alive or let him suffer. So I did what any other noble fisherman would do... I tossed him back into the lake, said a prayer and ran like hell to find soap to wash the smell of Dal Lake fish from my hands.

I haven't eaten fish since.

Along with my food cravings of anything other than rice and veggies... the other day I bought more cheese and bread but also a small packet of mixed nuts and raisons. But as I sat with the open bag I read the packaging for the first time. It read...
Truck-Truck Snacks Ingredients: Wholesome grains, cornflakes, edible veg. oil and spices etc.
What I want to know is where are the cornflakes? To my eye (and tastebuds) there were only cashews, almonds and raisons in the packet. Which leads me to wonder... are nuts and spicy whole grains one and the same?

And another thing.... why do pop/soda label have the written: Contains no fruit...?

ps. dad... didn't get to Ajmer... next time! And Rachel... Hotmail me!

To answer your question Dad... Yes, I am getting a tad homesick for certain things! The other day I just didn't want to eat the food I am given on the houseboat... so I didn't. I bought bread and Amul process cheese and ate until my gut was full. I washed it down with a bottle of Thumbs Us (a cheap division of Coca Cola from Atlanta, USA... yet it is the same Rs15 as a bottle of Coke... I should have got the 'real thing'... Thumbs Up should be thumbs down according to my tastebuds... it was more like chilled brown sugar water.) No matter, I was happy with my bread and cheese (which I normally hate at home!). That was lunch. Next came dinner... I wasn't too excited for rice and veggies. I felt like something light... yeah... you'd think rice and veggies is light but not the way they cook it here. Everything drenched in mustard oil. Ugh! I felt like having soup. And so the hunt began. 1... 2.... 3... shops on the lake but none had soup. It was already dark and I almost never venture onto the road when it is dark but it had to be done. And there it was... a package of mixed vegetable Italian Style soup for Rs22. It seemed more like an Army ration soup pouch as it was in a large packet (like most dried soup mixes) but it wasn't dried it was wet and mushy with a few limp noodles that maybe once were in the shape of shells but had lost its shape due to being moist for so long. Thankfully there were directions in English because I wasn't used to this mushy packaged soup (and no one on the HB knew how to make soup). I boiled the water, added the soup and drank. It was disgusting... Italy better stick to pizza!! It just barely tended to my 'need something other than rice' craving! It tasted oddly like the massala mix from the maggi noodles (much like Mr. Noodles and its little packet of spices) but of course there were less noodles. I just may go back to rice and veggies tomorrow!!

ps. I didn't write because I've been in transit... left Kashmir bact to Delhi so don't worry! xo

A while back I had some comforts of home. We rented a T.V. and VCD for only Rs180 and at Rs10 a movie we rented four!! We rented an old Kashmiri film `Jab, Jab Phool Kilhe` (all about an american who comes to stay on a HB and of course falls in love!). It was neat to see all the same landscape and Boulevard of Dal Lake (not too much has changed!). I saw Shah Ruk Kahn's first film. A fairly new film `Mission Kashmir` (but the copy wasn't so great... I may have to rent it back home!)... And then an English flick (not really my choice but really there's not much selection for English films). Jackie Chan `Supercop`... seems to be mostly action films or cheesy ones (like Titanic!). It was nice to understand everything this time though!

It was crazy.. the whole family crowded around on the floor in the little room mesmerized (including myself). Right into the night we watched (most indian films are 3hrs long... we rented around 20hrs of film but it was already 7pm and we had to return it the next day at noon... that means some serious marathon watching has to happen!) I was hoping for the all american pop and chips but we decided on dinner first and then snacked on watermelon. I took a piece as it was being cut.. it ws so delidious that my mouth was watering waiting for the nest slice. It came but to my disappointment they had drenched it in salt... YUCK!!! By that time the shop was closed so no pop to my dismay! Not that we were able to last through the whole night! Mission K and Jackie were going to have to wait unti the next morning! Somehow we did it.. got through all 4... probably becasue we sort of gave up on Mission K... it skipped too much and was always going fuzzy.

I went to a Mosque the other day. As we came to the entrance, shoes off, I picked up my shoes in my right and and sauntered up the stairs as if I knew all that was going on (of course being in my kashmiri suit, no one could tell that I'm a foreigner... they just think I'm a village girl as I don't wear any make-up!). All of the sudden my friend yells a whisper to me "left hand, left hand"... realizing my mistake I transfer my chupples from my right to my left hand (because of course we eat with our right hand... aah... too many things to remember). Now I've got it all right: I'm walking barefoot, chupples in my left hand, my dupatta is covering my head and I walk towards the main area following my friend but he stops short to tell me that I'm not allowed in this part. I can only walk around and look in. I'm not entirely understanding why but I respectively walk around and stand at a window along with the many other women who are chanting, praying, crying for their own personal reasons. Admittedly I said a small prayer of my own... the rest of the time I was trying to fill my soul with the beauty all around me. So many people and yet it was strangely peaceful.

The inside where the men pray was a shrine enclosed with dark wood carvings typical of Kashmir. Endless stacks of the Koran could be found in all corners. The floors were dressed in traditional wool carpets with a dark red-wine coloured background and a white and dark navy floral design. The smell of incense floated through the windows along wiht the individual chants and prayers of the men.

When I finished my round I was brought back to the main part. There stood a wide marble table with silver bowls piled on top. On the side were silver containers plentiful with blessed water. Rs10 and I got to have a bowl full of the holy water to drink and to put on my chest for my asthma problem. A handfull of figs and small sugar candy ended my first time in a Mosque.

The other day I went for a wild ride along the Boulevard of Dal Lake. I was riding on the back of a Hero Honda motorbike... the newest of the new here in Srinagar! Only 4 of its kind in Kashmir so far! First time on a motorbike... frankly I didn't really want to get on the darn thing but curiosity grabbed hold of me and on I jumped! There I was in my new kashmiri suit on the back of a motorbike, hanging on to two guys in front! It was wild! After five minutes of hanging on to my fear I let it go with the wind and sat back and enjoyed the ride... I could easily become a biker chick! It was dusk and we were headed towards the Mughal gardens. Usually I'm either crammed in a city bus or stuffed in an auto-riskshaw if I'm headed that way. this time though, I had full view of the lake and while the guys chatted it up I watched the sun set against the mountan sky and its mirror image in Dal Lake and the old fort on the hillside towering in the shadows. It was breathtaking... another moment lost to my camera but not to my memory.

Getting a new suit is always a challenge for me here. The women style suit, though it looks nice, I am not so fond of wearing that style. I always ask the tailor for the 'man-pants'... meaning straight-legged pants... but each and every time the tailor will look at me as if I've gone mad. Heaven forbid for a women to wear man pants! It's just that the women pants are balloony and billowy much like Jasmine in Disney's Alladin! They are not exactily the kind of pants that I would wear to run to the store in back home. But if they're 'straight-legged' pants than for sure there's more a chance that I'd wear them more often than none. And the tops... well, there's nothing particularly wrong with them it's just that they're so long and I'm accustomed to either a dress or pants and a shirt but not both. So I usally ask for my tops shorter (just above the knee... that's short for a women's top here!). And I'm partial to the shorter sleeve. The tailor still looks at me with a puzzled look just in case I have lost my mind but he willingly writes down the measurements. And on top of that he draws funny little square drawings of what the outfit will look like which (this time making me think that he's lost HIS marbles because his drawings look nothing like a shirt or pants) but I keep my comments to myslf and vow to learn a few choice words in his language if the final product looks anything like his drawings!

Next came the talk of when it will be finished. The day was Wednesday and he spoke of Monday. I started to gather my fabric thinking that was much to far away. So he siad Satudrday (since Friday is presumably Pray Day). I agreed to this. Next the haggle over price... I knew it was going to be more expensive than usual. Most womens' outfits were Rs70-80. He decided to charge me the price of a man's dress of Rs150 (since of course I was asking for man pants!) Which is really kind of crazy... I mean the women's pants are a lot harder to make... but I digress... I wasn't going to pay Rs150 since I only paid Rs140 for the fabric (not the greatest of fabric but great colours for me!!). He said Rs130... I thought about it. You see the last tailor I went to in Srinagar charged me Rs100 but the the whole outfit was too small and I went back for alterations and he charged me another Rs20 but it still wasn't fitting just right. So I told this guy that I'd pay him Rs100 and if I really like the suit I'd give him the extra Rs30.

Well, Saturday came along and I was impressed. Needless to say I gladly paid him the extra Rs30! Everyone said that I looked like a lady of society (that's their way of saying a city girl!!). But one thing that boggles me... men wear the dresses and women wear the suits!!

ps. Thought today was father's day... sorry dad, realized that it was last Sunday! But I thought of you!!

I'm writing this wearing my new Kashmiri suit. I spent the day looking for a dupatta (head scarf) to match but alas found none. I'm wearing an old one but it's just not the perfect match. Tomorrow I shall buy a white cotton one and get it died for only Rs20. I wandered into the post office where I of course had to step aside and get searched... all instructions were in Kashimiri... needless to say, I fit right in... until I open my mouth! Twice around and I still can't speak a word of the language! Well, maybe a few words... when it has to do with eating rice or drinking chai! The only other thing that gives me away is my 2 year old chupples (flip-flips!)... typical travelling garb. All the local ladies were heels and plastic at that! It is becoming mandatory for all the young ladies to wear the abaya and burkas. I tried one on... makes me look mysterious but boy-oh-boy... I don't know how they wear them. I don't like having so much fabric around my eyes like that. Although, it would cut down on having to decide what to wear day by day!

"Safe for vegetarians" -written on my tube of Pepsodent toothpaste... makes me wonder what's in our toothpaste back home... I've never seen anything like that written on our toothpaste tubes!