A Year in the World

Its Wed Feb 24th and kel and I are going to go on a Glacier walk tomorrow. New Zealand is absolutely beautiful, Its like one big National Park. i cant believe we have two weeks left until we go back home. It’s been such a wonderful journey and even though I want to see more of the world it will have to wait. I am really looking forward to getting a teaching job back in Chicago but mostly seeing my family and friends. I love and miss you all.

Journal Entry – Sunday, August 30th 2009 We arrived in Delhi last night and I am determined to catch up with the present time before we leave on Tuesday for Nepal. Regardless if anyone is reading this, it will be nice to have a log of details and memories that we may forget in the future. So having said that, let’s return to our first train ride out of Mumbai to Goa, with the Frencheez. We get set up on the train and after a couple of stops the two join our section of the car. We spoke with them for awhile about their travels and found out that they were caught up in the cab scab that we’ve heard much about. Cab drivers take you to places to stay where they receive a commission, most of the time the hotels are dumps. These two got out and paid the taxi driver only to find themselves somewhere they didn’t want to go or shouldn’t be. It was a bad neighborhood and they said they were a little frightened walking through it to find another cab. One of them was mal and the other a female, probably in their early twenties. They obviously made it out ok or we wouldn’t be hearing their story. It was late and the other passenger, an Indian in his thirties, looked as if he wanted to sleep but they started to read and the guy was singing to himself some song in French. They sat across from each other even though their beds were on above one another on one side our moving apartment for the night. The Indian fellow didn’t say anything to them , maybe out of kindness but I started to get irritated. They probably didn’t realize that they could’ve both sat on their side of the berths and let the guy sleep. After a half hour he finally mentioned that he wanted to lay down and the guy Frenchy moved over to the proper side of the berths. Luckily Kelly and I had two of the three berths on top so we were only effected by the guy frencheez humming and singing. Kelly cocooned herself in her sleep sac like she always does on train rides and I fell asleep uncovered as usual. I woke up the next morning to find the guy cleaning up around his berth. Later Kelly told me that they were both on the bottom berth eating when she woke up. The middle berth was still up so they were huddled underneath it while they ate. She suggested that they put the middle berth down so they all could sit down and not be scrunched down while they ate. She told me that it was a total fiasco to unhook the middle berth to lay it flat against the side wall. As the guy Frenchee started to maneuver his stuff he knocked his pasta and sauce all over their bottom berth. After that it was craziness. He scrambled frantically to try and get it up and wipe his friend down. That’s when I wole up to see him cleaning the mess. He then looked up at Kelly and asked her if she had a towel. She told him no, which was a lie but I would’ve said the same thing. It was his mess and he just didn’t want to dirty his own shit. His friend was obviously upset at him because her tone was not pleasant. After everything was cleaned up they got settled in their spots and  started to read. She started to read and he just stared out the window and continued singing and humming again. KelnI just kept looking at each other and smiling, trying not to crack up with laughter. We got to our stop in the morning and shared a taxi with a couple from Sweden to Anjuna Beach. We got a place right down the road from the Arabian Sea and relaxed. Later on we went for a walk to the Sea and got our first taste of the persistence that the woman of India had when trying to get us to buy their shit. There were a row of shacks that lined the bluff of the Sea and everyone of the keepers came out when they saw us coming. That is when we heard the famous lines that we heard so many times after that while traveling through India. “Hello. How are you? Where are you from? Oh that’s nice. Come look my shop! Just look no buy, looking is free.” always with a handshake and always making you promise to come back if you told them you’d be bye later. There wasn’t much of a beach when we reached the Sea, it was more huge rocks that you could walk down into a cove of crashing waves. We took a left and walked down the road to find where the beach opened up. We walked down a desolate road with closed shops and worn down huts. Before we reached the sandy beach we were mwet by about seven kids ranging from twelve to twenty. They followed us toward the beach with the same questions and demands to come see their shop. They were very nice but would not let up. They all had sad stories, whether made up or real I will never know but didn’t buy into anyway. We told them we just wanted to walk and they wouldn’t leave us alone until we promised them we would see their shop on the way back. We left them with a ‘maybe’ and about twenty feet down the beach we were met by women with the same lines but they didn’t have a shop, they carried their merchandise with them and tried to put it on us while we walked. They were relentless so we turned and walked back toward our hotel. The kids met us again and we told them we would be back tomorrow, with no intention of returning. We stayed in Goa for a couple days and met a nice couple from Australia an New Zealand, Rosie and Jeff. She was an Aussie and he was a Kiwi, we went out for dinner one night and got shitfaced then went back to our hotel and drank some more. One of the employees kept the outdoor seating area open for us until about three in the morning. We plan on visiting them when we get to Australia because they reside there now, but that’s a good four months from now. It’s hard to take in the amount of travels we have ahead of us so I just take it one place at a time and planning for the next when we get closer to the date of departure. Let me reiterate part of that last statement, We take it one place at a time while Kelly plans for the next stop. After traveling for almost three months together we have found our part in working together as a team. She does the planning, booking, sightseeing and most important the budget. It is the biggest part of the workload for the trip and I don’t take it for granted. If it wasn’t for her there would be no forward motion. If it wasn’t for there would be no forward motion in my life let alone this trip and I am grateful for her in my life. My part in the travel is to keep our pictures organized and named, keep this journal, carry her bags from time to time and protect her from bunny rabbits. After Anjuna we took a cab to Baga beach for a couple days. The beach was much bigger and you could walk to the other beach town in Goa named Callangutte Beach, which we did one day. It was about ninety-nine percent Indian tourists as well as all of our travels through Goa. You have to remember that it is monsoon season and the “Western” tourists don’t travel to India during that time. It was nice in a way because everything was less expensive but there weren’t many things open and all of the beach areas looked run down. The Indians go on vacation during these months because of that so needless to say we were getting stares from every direction. When we returned to our beach we sat down in the sand while being approached by families and other Indian tourists for a picture opportunity or just to talk to us. Many of them don’t get a chance to see or talk to white people because their from villages or smaller cities that are not frequently toured by our kind. At one point had had three gentleman sit next to me watching me sketch. They were all dressed in the same outfit. They wore pink and white, vertically stripped shorts with matching shirts. I found it to be somewhat amusing. The one closest to me struck up a conversation with me and we began to share information about one another. More so me than him because he had many questions, when he asked me what I did back home I told him that I was a teacher. Even though I have not actually had a real teaching job yet it is just an easier answer. The next thing I know he’s calling all his friends over and saying something to them in Hindi. Within seconds I’m surrounded by about fifteen guys all dressed in the same outfit. Here I am surrounded by a group of grown men all dressed in pink and white stripped gear wondering what the hell they’re all smiling and laughing about. I stood up to get them and the guy who started the conversation told me they were all teachers on a vacation. I met all of them one by one while they told me what subject they taught. I told them I was an art teacher and showed them the drawings and paintings I have done so far. They all seemed interested and then asked if Kelly was a teacher too. When I told them no some of them responded with a chuckle “Oh housewife.” I dint say anything and they asked her to take our picture, so she got up and was handed about seven  camera’s. After the photo shoot they all shook may hand with a warm cheerful goodbye. When Kelly and I sat back down she told me that when she got up to take our picture the back her dress blew up and she gave the family behind us a show. She said the woman looked disgusted but that’s another part of the culture which is a major difference. Women cannot show too much skin and most of them have their ankles and shoulders covered at all times. Nudity is a major no-no in India as well for both sexes. When men wear dohti’s they wear underwear under their underwear and most married couple never see each other fully naked, even during sex. Women are very oppressed and they make up only twenty-percent of the working class in India. They are not aloud to marry if they’re husband dies or have a child without a father. In a country that is made up a six class system they are second rate, which in actuality makes it a twelve class system. After Baga we took a taxi to Panjim which is the major city in Goa. We stayed there for a couple days avoiding tauters and auto rickshaw drivers that won’t take no for an answer when they ask if you want to see the sights. The first day in Panjim I went to the local barber and got a shave, that’s where Dash was born, I walked out of there with huge smile knowing that Kelly would get a kick out of my newly fashionable mustache. Later that night we walked around the city looking for a place to eat. At the start of our walk we came upon a group of about three dogs sitting on the sidewalk. Now before I finish this story I have to tell you that the dogs in India are not domesticated. They are all over the place and at night they mostly travel in packs. As we approached them another dog came from the opposite direction and heading toward the other three. Just as we got a couple feet from the dogs the one approaching lunged at one of the dogs and snapped at it. This sent Kelly out to the street with a loud high-pitched shriek and made me jump and pick up my pace around the now tangling dogs. We got passed by a group of young Indian men who were laughing at us. They obviously had seen everything go down. We went on a self guided tour later that day and went out to a nice restaurant at night with a couple we had met at our hotel, he was from England and she was from Bulgaria. The man who stood out front of the restaurant opening the door for their guests was rocking the coolest most badass mustache I had ever seen in person. It was ten times thicker and longer than Wizzo’s mustache from Bozo the Clown show. I was thouroughly impressed and even more jealous. I turned to Kelly and said “I want that” she just shook her head and smiled, as if to say “No you don’t.” After our stay in Panjim we caught a taxi to Palolem Beach, which ended up being our longest cab ride in Goa because of the mountain pass. It was a very scenic ride there and the higher we got to the top of the mountain the more it rained. It was also a little tense because our driver was going pretty fast, like every driver in India. You have to be crazy to drive here because there is no such thing as stopping, they just slow down or steer around any obstacle in the road at a much faster pace than anyone should drive at. When we got into Palolem the driver brought us to a hotel that was right on the Sea. Usually we’ll have them drive us around until we find a reasonably clean and cheap place but this place was both. It was laid out like a resort with a restaurant looking over the beach and a strip uf rooms toward the back. In between the café and the rooms were slots of concrete that they used as huts during the busy season. On top of that it was only four-hundred Rupees a night, that’s ten American. We didn’t hesitate on our decision and we stayed there for the rest of our duration in Goa, which was a week. It was also the longest we had stayed in one place since we left Chicago on June 11th. Here’s a little side note, Kelly mentioned to me the other day that we have slept in thirty different beds since we left the Chi-town, I thought it was an interesting fact and that doesn’t include our overnight trains. Our stay in Palelom was just what we needed, a relaxing intoxicating and fun week. The first night we met a nice group of people at the café at our resort. We came into the café and were immediately asked to join a group sitting at a couple joined tables. There were three girls from Ireland, who left the next day, a guy named Tom from England and a couple, Doug and Amanda, from Australia. We had met one of the Irish girls earlier in the day and she was the one who had invited us to join them. Tom, from England was a guy whom I spoke to for a brief moment when we checked in and it was our first introduction to Doug and Amanda. We got well acquainted with everyone fairly quick. So quick that I showed off the chicken chest after a couple drinks. After the café closed we retired back to our common area in front of our rooms. The Irish girls, Doug and Amanda went to their rooms while Kelly, Tom and I hung out with our last drinks outside shooting the shit. Tom rolled up some hash with tobacco, we smoked, with the exception of Kelly and talked for a couple more hours. It was a good start to our stay in Palolem. The rest of our stay was pretty much set, we ate, plated Frisbee on the beach while the girls walked and shopped and then we all met back in the common area of our rooms to drink and smoke. Actually, Tom and I were the only ones who smoked hash, the rest just drank. We hung out in front of our rooms and drank because the café was too expensive, eighty Rupees at the resort and forty-five at a street side shop. So we opted for hangin out by our rooms and takin turns on goin for beer runs. We got yelled at once by a neighbor on our second night because we were playin a drinkin game that entailed doing a Michael Jackson move and saying “Hee-Heeee” in a high pitched tone. We had some good times with Tom, Doug and Amanda in that week. We had some good times and good conversation with Tom, Doug and Amanda, unfortunately Tom was the first to go, two days before we left and Doug and Amanda stuck it out after we left for who knows how long. They were the traveling type and been to India once before. They also showed us video and pictures of volunteer work they did in South America prior to their trip to India. They worked with Puma’s and it looked pretty awesome. We hope to see them in Australia and exchange our stories. The day before we left for Karela I went out to the beach and began to create a drizzle castle that was inspired by my grandmother Lou. It is a different technique in building a sandcastle that starts with the foundation of your shape and then taking wet sand and letting it run between your closed fingers to form a sort of tower of sand droplets. Kelly says it reminds her of a Gaudi structure, he‘s a Spanish architect . I had to start the castle about twenty feet from the Sea line because it was at low tide and I knew that at the end of it the Sea would be high. Because of that I had a lot of Indian tourist pass by that talked to me for a minute and take pictures. There was one gentleman that came over to see what I was doing whom Kelly and I had met a couple days before. His name was John and he ran a massage parlor. He was a nice man with a couple of piercing in his ear and died hair, When he attempted to pitch his shop to us when he first met us he took Kelly’s hand to show her the different techniques of massaging. When he lifted her hand we all noticed a glob of bird shit on it. I laughed as he brought her inside his parlor to wash it off. So he walks up on me to see what I’m up to. I became as persistent as an Indian shopkeeper to get him to try the drizzle technique. He was a good sport about it. He got down on his hands and knees with me and took to it pretty well, then he left at the same time a family of Indian tourists stopped to see what I was up to. There was about five of them, including a little boy who might have been five or six. He looked so interested in what I was doing that I invited him to help. After about fifteen minutes of his help, his parents told him that they had to go and eat. He was so reluctant on leaving and after many tries from the parents I suggested to the parents that I would watch him while they ate. They were eating at a place only thirty feet down the beach so they let him stay, coming back every five to ten minutes. I thought they were checking on him but they were actually checking on me to see if I was alright. I realized this after the second check up when the mother asked if he was too much trouble. We finished the castle just in time for the tide to come and take it and the parents to finish eating. The father asked me to come and join them for dinner at the place they were staying at. I reluctantly declined because KelnI were leaving the next day, but regret it now because I think it would’ve been a great experience. So instead we chilled and had our last night with our neighbors Doug and Amanda, playing cards, drinking and I finished the last of the hash that Tom left me before he left. I did pick up one habit from our trip in Palolem and I know I’m gonna catch a lot of shit for it when I get back to Chicago. I’m now rolling my own cigarettes, I know, I know, it’s so Euro but the Golden Virginian’s taste really good and I feel like John Wayne or Clint Eastwood every time I roll my own cigarette. I am not a big fan of either of those guys but I’m fan enough to know they are Bad Ass Mutha’ Funkers. So we leave Palolem and jump on a train to our next destination, Karela, Fort Kochi to be exact, where we stay for two weeks. That is the longest we have stayed at any place since we left the states. We got set up in a homestay called Harbourage Inn. It was nice because we were the only two people staying in the joint and we had the place to ourselves for two weeks. Room and board was paid for through the company we went through. The bad part was that the people who ran the joint didn’t think they were getting enough of the cut. In turn our meals were maintained to small portions but we didn’t come to that conclusion until the manager Suekneel  joined us for dinner a week into our stay and inquired on the amount of money we paid i-to-I, the name of the organization. We didn’t know what to say to him because we paid the company a sum of money to volunteer. That money got divided amongst whoever they had to pay. Which by the way, thanks again for those who came to the charity party KelnI threw and supported our cause to help these kids out because it made this trip very rewarding.Journal Entry September 1st Tueseday 2009We just flew into Katmandu, Nepal today and already KelnI wish we would’ve scheduled more than two weeks here. It’s absolutely beautiful, I mean shit, were at the base of the highest peak in the world and this city is surrounded by mountains. I just booked a three night for day trek with my own Sherpa and kelly booked a three night four day yoga/meditation retreat. We both leave on Thursday and it will bring us back together on Sunday, September 6th for our one year anniversary. Im getting ahead of myself again so lets go back to Kerala. We got into Kerala on Sat and had a day to walk around our new neighborhood. Sunday night was orientation at another homestay called Hanna’s Haven. This is where we met the other girls that we volunteered with. All five of them were girls between the ages of nineteen and twenty-three and they were all from London. We we’re the only two American’s in the group and the first two American’s to volunteer with this particular branch. We also met Rahki and Mathew, they worked for I-to-I and made sure we were good throughout the stay. We also met my man Herman, he ran Hanna’s Haven and was a very nice and concerned man, always telling us to be careful while traveling through India and what to watch out for. He often had Kelly and I downstairs for chai with his family and other friends that were visiting him at the time. He’s also the one who told me about the Bollywood star named Dan Danzabaar. The next day, Mon was our tour of Old Kochi by my man Herman, we walked the area and he took us to the school we would be working at the next day. The kids were happy to see us and a couple of them took us by the arm to show us their classroom and work. It was nice to get an idea of what where we’d be for the next few weeks. IT also made me a little nervous because a lot of the students there had some pretty severe mentally and physically handicaps and I had never dealt with anything like this my whole life. Not to mention that the ones who were comprehendable didn’t speak English so there was a double whammy.None the less we eventually got use to the routine and by the time we were totally comfortable with our roles it was time to go. The day consisted of watching them practice a dance for India’s Independence day in the morning, followed by exercise and meditation. After that we went into our assigned classrooms and worked with the kids on numbers, words, color and simple tasks. Then at lunch time we would help feed the kids who needed help, which some that did need help wouldn’t except it because they wanted to do it on their own. After that KelnI would walk back to our homestay and eat lunch, it was only a ten minute walk from school and we had an hour break. On our return we would work on arts and crafts, which was basically making grocery bags out of newspaper for the local stores. Then we would go outside and play, either throwing the ball around or going to the rusty playground the sisters tried to maintain within the confines of the school. On my first day I was put into a classroom of younger kids with sister Beatrice. I know it’s bad but I had a little crush on sister Beatrice, I told Kelly about and we had a good little chuckle about me coming in one day and confessing my love for her, telling her that if she gave up her faith I would take her out of this place and we could live in a hut with just our love as a means of survival. So I return from lunch on the first day and sister Beatrice leaves me with the class, broke my heart in two. An hour into class and another sister comes into check on me then takes one of the students to the bathroom. Every classroom has it’s own bathroom and she walked the student into it because he has very weak legs. He wears the same leg braces as Forest Gump wore when he was a kid. He also doesn’t speak and has low motor skills. So their in the bathroom for awhile with the door open and I continue working with a girl named famia who can’t speak as well. We were working on identifying colors. Another ten minutes goes by and the whole time I just hear him in the bathroom humming happily along. I heard him clearly because the door was wide open. So I get up to see if the sister needs any help because it’s been a good twenty to thirty minutes that have gone by. I peak around the door frame into the bathroom and this kid is in the toilet. Not standing in it or on top of the toilet seat I mean he’s ass in it. Legs coming out over the side and his knees in his chest. I almost lost it, I know it’s not nice but it was a funny-ass scene, plus he was happy as a clam in there just humming away to himself. Appearantly the nun had just sat him on the toilet and left without even a mention that he was in there by himself. So I hoisted him out of the toilet, put his pants back on and walked him back to his seat. It was a good start to our work there. The next day was Wed. and our second day on the job. One of the English girls didn’t show up, I think she got a little freaked out by the whole thing and never returned. They pulled me out of sister Beatrice’s room because of that and put me in sister Rita’s class. I was crushed, to know that the lovely and sexy sister Beatrice was no longer going to be sharing the same room as me. II guess it just wasn’t meant to be, we where like two sacred cows passing each other on a garbage ridden street on a dark and mysterious India night. I don’t know what the hell that means but it’s alright neither do the cows. Sister Rita’s room was just as nice and I ended up staying there for the duration of our stay at Cottellango. I got accuinted with a few of the students but took a real liking to one girl in particular. Her name was Amuur she was probably in her early teens and skinny as a rail but ate like a horse, I should know I fed her every day after that. She was in a wheel chair most of the time and had very little use of her hands. She didn’t speak and had a couple boils on her right hand, this was due to biting it when she was pissed off. She would bite her hand and slam her head against the back of her wheel chair. So I had to pry her hand away from her mouth and hold her head straight up, which wasn’t an easy task because she was very strong. I spent my time in the morning helping the other students with their writing. I would also draw pictures for them to color, this only consisted of three or for students that were capable of writing and coloring. After I got back from my lunch break we would make bags for an hour and them=n I would take Amuur outside with a few other students and wheel her around while doing wheelies and spins that brought a big smile to her face and some laughter from inside. On the last day at school the kids put on a show for us and later, after I showed the sisters how to use the new scanner they got, I walk Amuur out to the swing set and swung her for awhile, she loved it. Our excursions on the weekends were fun. We went to an Elephant camp, where they had over fifty elephants in a huge open park. The only sad part was the elephants were chained by the foot to a big huge concrete stump in the ground. We spent the day in a self sufficient village, where the women made rope out of coconut hairs, the men maintained a crab hatchery and had a few Chinese fishing nets established on their lot. The guy who ran the village also made gas in a concrete compost container. They would put all of their kitchen and food scraps in it and seal it with a tube running from the container to inside the kitchen of the house and that’s how they cooked when they needed to. It was very interesting and simple way of live that I admired. We went shopping one day which want all that great, even for the girls, I think because it was really hot out and we were pretty tired. Our favorite excursion was spending twenty-four hours on a houseboat, traveling through the backwaters of Allepy. It had four bathrooms and each one had its own bathroom and A/C unit. The boat was a pretty big size. On the main floor it had a lounge area on the bow and upstairs had a huge covered deck with an entertainment system. Kelly and I got a twelve pack of Kingfisher beer, the big ones and had a nice time drinking, playing cards and shooting the shit. The other girls did play cards but didn’t drink, which is fine more for us. They were all very serious and it was like pulling teeth to get them to loosen up. I have only met a hand full of English on our travels and come to the conclusion that they’re all very serious people. They are all very nice and respectful but they don’t seem to be able to let their hair down. Maybe it’s me or maybe it’s the ones I met but I would be surprised to meet a wild and crazy English person. No offence to the English because I do think you’re quite nice. We left Kerala on a Saturday night and caught our fifty-three hour train ride to Varanasi. I have already explained that crazy week so lets fast forward to the day after I wrote about Kelly’s pure beauty sighting. That puts us at Sunday, August 23rd and we decide to go and check out the walled city in Jaipur. It is a city within the city, filled with markets and shops. We get into the city after a ten minute walk passed camel cars, public urination, busy traffic with non-stop honking and beggars. We have an idea of the route we wanted to take that would lead us out of the other end of the pink city and into the zoo, but that plan got distracted by Muhamed and Sonny. Two Indian guys in their mid twenties that began to strike up a conversation with us outside one of the shops. Muhamed was a Muslim and Sonny was a Hindu, so we talked about the different religions, American politics, Obama compared to Bush, that sort of shit. They thought it was great that Obama was president and celebrated when they heard the news, like all of the people we talked to from all over the world.Journal entry Wed. Sept, 2nd 2009 Muhamed asked us to join them for chai, their treat and I greatfully excepted, where Kelly was a little more reluctant. We eventually excepted and walked down one of the side streets to a dirty little corner chai stand and sat on a bench in the street continuing our conversation. Through different quick question and answer dialogue they found out that I had been sketching along the way and within minutes sa guy shows up. His name was Bobby. We started talking to me about art and says that he teaches at a School for orphaned children. We didn’t think of it at the time but after our day we went through it and picked apart all the “strange coincidences throughout the rest of our day. So Bobby invites us to place of employment, check out the work and drink some chai. Im thinking ‘cool I’ll be able to sit down with someone in the art community and pick their brains’ but it didn’t happen. We go to the Art school via motorcycles. Kelly actually got on the back of one, the one Muhamed drove and I on Sonny’s. She was a pro, I got some good video of her on it but it takes an hour to download. So we get to the School and Bobby doesn’t show up. There is a gentleman there who show us where the kids painted, it was Sunday and there wasn’t any school. After that we go down to the basement to the Gallery and then the business begins. He ask’s if we would like something to drink, “Because it is our custom here in India to treat our guests as family.” It was a warm start. We deny the drink and look around until we get to the students painting and the pitch begins. “These painting here, are done by the students. The money goes toward their schooling, food, clothing and shelter” And just like that you’re  guiltyed into buying something. That’s where the Indians get you, right in the heart and they don’t take any prisoners, it’s all about the sale. Luckily I have Kelly on my side cuz she don’t give a fuck. She’s like a vicious, sexy Ice queen with these people. When a price comes out their mouth she’s etheir grabbing more stuff that she thinks will add up to the amount or she’ll start the bidding so low that some of these guys flinch. Have you ever seen an Indian flinch, I have, many of times and only when I’m with my hot bargaining bitch on tuk-tuks. We ended up buying stuff for less than half the price he started at and still probably got taken. Most of the time we know were getting taken and bargain on principal.. When you break it down American style it’s not a lot and some of the bullshit artists really need it. They need it so bad that they have to bullshit to get some extra Rupees. The things we bought are beautiful and it was a great experience to ride on a motorcycle through those crazy fuckin streets, it was a lot of fun. Muhamed and Sonny dropped us off in the middle of the walled palace and told us that there is a great view on top of one of the buildings in front of us. He showed us where to go and said it was free. We said our godbyes and checked it out. We walked down a little side street that open up into somewhat of a courtyard of buildings, we went up the spiral staircase onto the roof. It was a decent view, a couple stories up and it was across from a huge decorative tower. We took some pictures and a guy came out of a small row of shops. He starts up a conversation with us and is very happy and cracking jokes with us. We made about the ever so famous line by a shopkeeper ‘come see my shop’ then he says not a second later “ SOOOooooo, you wanna come see my shop. We go in and talked with him for ten-fifteen minutes, making small talk and cracking more jokes while looking over his jewelery. Kelly hesitated to sit down because we both knew we weren’t going to buy anything. But I enjoy the banter and commisceration and that’s free. He invites us back to dinner before we leave and says that we were very nice. There was a Ganesh festival and they wanted us to celebrate with his family and friends. I was all about it, but did not lead on. I told him that we’d think about it and that if we decide to we’ll see him back at his shop at six-thirty. We go home and take a quick disco nap and decide to take up Dinesh’s invite. So we get ready and I shaved, but kept a longer mustache, I call it Dash II, he’s still a photojournalist that travels the world looking for the perfect shot, the only difference is that Dash Danzabaar does it with a little savior fair. We get about three inches from the door of his shop and stop. Remember we’re down an side street which is more of an alley and into the dingy, dark courtyard. The shop is upstairs on top of the roof the down to the side of the attached building. So we stand there for a good minute deciding if we should go in. Kelly told me she didn’t have a good feeling and she had good reason. The rickshaw driver told us to be careful of “Gem Scams” I remembered Kelly mentioning something to me about that prior. It is when a business owner of a jewelery shop asks you to maiul gem’s to an address for them and say it’s a gift for someone, I believe they even ask people to travel with them to other countries, for twenty to thirty grand. It’s not that we were in danger it’s just that we didn’t want to be in that situation. Kelly is the one who stopped before the door and confirm what we both had on our minds. I was so hoping that it wasn’t true and I kind of wanted to check it out and if I smelled bullshit we were out. But we both decided that it would be best just to leave. When we reached the main street two men passed us by and I remembered one of them from being in the shop earlier. He asked if we were coming up and we told him no. He them became a little too persuasive. Saying that we should really come up and it was going to be a great dinner. I dint notice anyone else up there while we made our way to his shop so we walked away telling him that Kelly was sick. His friend invited me back sometime because he was “Going to Arizona and wanted to ask me some questions about America” right. So we ended up jumping in a bicycle tuk-tuk because the driver followed us for half a mile. It became amusing because he just kept talking to us as we walked and he peddled. He took us to a hotel called OM with a revolving resturaunt about twent stories high. It was a good dinner and a great view and Im glad we changed our plans.Journal Entry Tue. September 8th 2009 I have not caught up with the India trip but I’ll go back to our last week after I write about Nepal. I know I’m jumping around and I apologize if it’s hard to keep track but I have to write about my four day trek in the hills of Nepal. It’s funny, what we call mountains in Chicago, they call hills here. The first day of our trek and I asked my guide Dipendra, what mountain we were on the top of and he laughed at me.Journal Entry Wed. September 9th 2009 KelnI went out for dinner last night, had some drinks before, during and after. It is the second night in three days that we’ve consumed a good amount of libations and I feel like holy cow shit. I’m not saying we drank like the people I know on the South Side of Chi-town. Shit, if my family and friends came her for a weekend vacation the Nepalese would make a killing and never have to worry about their unstable government changing hands every nine to twelve months. They could retire on alcohol sales alone. So we are just chillin in our room at the Ginesh hotel. It’s so funny how we’re not used to drinking like we did, cuz Sunday night when we went out I gots fuckst ups babe. We polished off a quarter a bottle of Absolute mango with fanta before we went out. Had some beers and a nice meal for dinner, chicken wings and pizza. Then we went to a bar after dinner, Kelly spotted it earlier this week before we went on our excursions because it had a Guinness sign on the front of it. We got two cold cans of Guinness for 575 Nepali Rps. That’s $7.66 American. I know it was expensive but we were treating ourselves. What a treat it was, it was served in cold glasses and it was delicious. We were the only customers in the joint so we had the run of the music. It was us at the bar, the owner and a few of his friends sitting in the lounge area and two employees. One of the employees served us drinks and the other employee went upstairs to get the cold glasses for us. The owner was nice, he chatted us up when we bellied up and made us a special conconction for our anniversary, then went back to his peeps. We listened to the Stones, U2, REM, Eddy Rabbit and a number of other good tunes. Then the bartender played a special song for our anniversary, it was the Eric Clapton song about his son who has past, something about heaven. It’s a beautiful song but just not one that makes us think about our marriage, so we both looked at each other and held back our laughter with slight grins. Before we left we signed a big sheet that the owner had hung up on the only lit wall in the place. It’s his schtick, for tourists to sign so we did, cuz were tourists. We then took a bicycle rickshaw home, this guy must have picked the bumpiest streets cuz we were getting thrown around worse then the American Eagle at Geat America. It was funny though cuz we were rocked. We went back to the joint and finished another quarter of the Absolut and played rummy. She’s whooping my ass, she has 9,820 points and I have 9,485. Now I know the points are close but we’re playing the hash mark system. Whoever reaches an increment of five hundred first get’s a hash mark, so Kelly has XVII hash marks and I have…..II. The next day, Mon the 7th we woke up and had room service bring us our breakfast and ate it on the rooftop it was about noon. That has to be the latest I’ve slept in about a month, and all we had to do is step out of our door and were on the rooftop. It’s a great view of the rundown and half finished city structures in front of a pristine and breathtaking landscape of the hilltops. After breakfast we took a nap, woke up and walked to a burger joint for a late lunch, went back to the hotel room, watched Army of Darkness and a really bad movie called Joshua. It’s about an evil boy who…..it’s not good. It was a tough day for us. The next day we went downstairs this time to have breakfast and then went on a self guided tour, through the local market streets. They are narrow, cramped and bustling with so much energy. There are people jams, motorcycle jams, cart jams, dog jams, cow jams and every kind of traffic jam you could think of. Even jelly and grape, but their not jams their tiger balm. We then walked to the Garden of Dreams and had some hung out in there for a couple hours, just relaxing, eating ice cream, taking some B&W pics and sketching. It was a gorgeous garden with ponds, fountains and statues. We then headed back to the hotel around four and ended up buying a Ganesh wall mask. It’s carved out of darker wood with a nice sheen to it and it’s carvings are pretty elaborate. The guy wanted 1,800 Nepali Rp for it, we walked out with the mask for 600 N Rps. This time I got a little more involved with the bargaining and it was kind of fun, we worked well together but she’s the driving force behind the final price. The guy wouldn’t go below 800 so we walked and about ten feet outside of his store he shouts out 600. GREAT SUCCESS!!! We went back to the room and ordered some a little snack and four fanta to the roof. We started it up again with the drinks and set out for dinner around seven in the PM. Had some drinks and split a Nepali meal then took a bicycle rickshaw home cuz it was raining. We had him stop at a store bye our place so we could get more fanta. Then we polished off the rest of the bottle over a game of rummy. We did make it downstairs for breakfast this morning but the rooms magnetic  pull was to strong for us. I kind of feel guilty being in Nepal and and spending so much time in our place but that’s what a four day trek and two nights of drinking will do. When we were in Easkey, Ireland hangin out with Vince and Richard having the Craic, Richard said something to me about traveling that makes me feel o.k. chillin in the room, he said to KelnI not to try and see everything, everyday of your trip, your not going to be able to and that it’s to much. Sometimes your going to need to just sit in your room or a café and do nothing because the people that run around all the time and take quick pictures then move on are wanker’s. That’s about the gist of what he said and it is good advice. So now I can chill here and write about my four day trek, I need to write it down now so it is fresh. The first day was the hardest, it was a five to six hour trek, one-hundred percent of the walk was uphill varying from a 110 to 175 degree inclines. The first hour of the climb was straight up. It started with cut stone as the staircase to various stones place in different holds. People lived, worked and played in these hills and the higher we got up the less traveled were the paths, which made them harder to climb. I probably wrung my shirt our three times in the five to six hours it took us to climb, it was drenched, almost as if someone dumped a huge bucket of water of my head. Our first stop was at the National Park district gate, I sat down with some Nepalise college kids just up there hanging out. Nobody has a drop of sweat on them but me. They chatted me up with the usual questions and I asked them why their not sweating, their response in Nepalise was “Because we’re not fat.” Deep told my that after we walked off and I began cracking up because they were right. I wanted to go back there with a big smile on my face and say “so Im fat huh? That’s funny huh? You know what else is funny? When I go home I have a bed to sleep on! That’s pretty funny isn’t it? Do you know what else is funny, I’m fat because in my country we don’t let cows shit in our homes, we eat them by the millions. All your reincarnated relatives are being raised in a ranch in Colorodo waiting to get gutted, bled and cut into pieces for our hungry, fat American appetite.” I kid because I love, I would never say that. Half-way through the first day of the trek it started sprinkling and Deep suggested we put our rain jackets on so we did and within minutes it started pouring. We managed to get our jackets on underneath a farmhouse awning and when we stepped out into the buckets of water falling on our heads. The stairway up going through a village became a full on, flowing stream with water running over the front of our boots with every step. In ten or fifteen minutes the rain stopped and the skies opened up, we stopped and had lunch in a two room house. The room off the street was used as a shop/kitchen/dining table, the other room is where the family lived with their livestock. The food was great and the tea was better, real goats milk. With a full belly we finished the climb up, stopping a couple more times for pictures, resting and wringing. The top of Chisapani was great and we got there an hour before sun set. So after I got situated in my room and took a shower in the concrete bathroom down the hall Deep and I walked about thirty feet from our homestay. We smoked a joint and watched the sun go down talking about family, politics and religion. I sat there and watched the sun go down over peaks of mountain tops hundreds of miles in the distance. The clouds were below us and the moon was above while the sun descended behind monster peaks. Stapled in my memory.Journal Entry Thur, Sept 10 2009 KelnI are sitting in the VIP lounge in Calcutta waiting for our plane to Bankok. It’s about six in the evening and our plane doesn’t leave until two in the morning. So we have some time to kill. Thankfully, Kelly’s uncle Dick gave us his priority passes which allows us into the airports extra nice lounge area. This is the first time we’ve tried to use it and it seems to have worked, thanks Dick. This is our longest layover so we never really had the opportunity to try since we left. Hopefully I can use this time to catch up to date with the journal. Oh, yea we also just flew from Nepal to Calcutta via first class. I don’t know how or why but our seats were in first class, even thought the flight lasted an hour fifteen minutes, it was still nice. So back to my trek in the foothills of Nepal. After the sunset Deep and I ate dinner and retired to our rooms where I wrote in my book by candlelight. Here is what I wrote in my journal verbatim.3 Night, 4 Day Nepal Trek Thur Sept 3rd. Trek Day 1Sundarijal-Manichur 8kManichur – Chisapani 15k2,100 meters from Katmandu$180 spent. 700 meters up Chisapani hill, 5 ½ hrsGanesh MT., Lankton MT, Dolgelapa MT, Godihunkat MT are the peaks viewed from the BBC homestay. It’s probably around eight pm and I’m sitting in my room writing by candlelight. The reason for candlelight is because they don’t have the electrical capacity to have it like that. The reason being is because Im on the top of a fuckin mountain. It is awesome, the view, my guide Dipendra, which he told me to call him Deep for short. Nice!!! That might be my Nepalise name, Dash Deependra. The climb was tough, I’m not gonna lie but I survived it and am looking forward to tomorrow. The view from here is breathtaking and I cant describe it in words, I could not do it justice. My guide Deep is very nice and conversation went smooth. I’m very glad to have this opportunity to myself, I needed it. I love Kelly but we’ve been traveling together for almost three months and I would need time to myself from anybody. We weren’t getting on each others nerves…too much, it’s just nice to have this time. She went to a 3 night, 4 day yoga/meditation spa. I hope she feels better and is having a pleasant, relaxing time. We meet back up Sun Sept 6th for our 1 year wedding anniversary. It will be nice to see her then. I watched the sunset with a bright moon opposite side of the sky. I can look out my window and witness a little village lit up, snuggled in between the bottom of two mountains and I am looking down on It.I know I wrote mountains in that last sentence but they were only considered hills but fuck it they’re mountains to me. I got to bed pretty early, probably around ten at night. I was beat but had a hard time falling asleep for some reason and when I did fall asleep I kept waking up what felt like every couple of hours. That is not like me at all, I can sleep through anything and I can fall asleep anywhere. Shit, I fell asleep sitting on top of a cooler with a sandwich in my mouth once. Im not kidding, my sister Ronie and my best friend Pat played rock, paper, scissors to see who was going to remove the half-eaten sandwich. I think I trouble sleeping because of the dreams I was having, or the fact that there was no lock on my rusted, metal door or could’ve been the fact that I was excited about seeing the sunrise. Im guessing it was the sunrise because when Deep knocked on my door to wake me up at six, it didn’t take much for me to spring up. I followed him onto the rooftop of the BBC mountain view hotel and I was met by a light blue glow of the sky to the east. Deep was silluhoutted by the glow but I could clearly see the mountain peaks towering over the clouds. The mountains behind me to the west kept changing different colors of purple and pink every minute. Although there was a slight chill in the air, I had such a great feeling of warmth come over me and I felt a little tingle from my head to my toes. We watched the sun rise up completely over the mountain tops and went back to sleep for about an hour. We awoke again at about eight and had breakfast. During breakfast we could not see the valley below us because of the cloud coverage and by the time breakfast was over the clouds had reached up to us and you could not see fifteen feet past you. The walk to the next “Hill” peak was not as hard but it was long. We walked down the first two hours, taking shortcuts through the paths formed by the rain. These became tight and steep at some points, I fell twice on our descend and got a couple leeches tagging along for the ride. I didn’t realize I had leeches until later in the day. The next two hours were mostly flat with very slight degrees of inclines and declines and we stopped for a break after one of Deeps shortcuts through a tight path that was lined with trees and brush forming a green, lush cave. That’s where I think I got the leeches. We stopped and had a drink, I had a fanta and Deep a coke, we talked with a couple who were going where we came from. They were from Italy and the guy was doing his trek in clogs. I couldn’t believe it, here’s me with my hi-top boots on, laced all the way up and forming blisters over blisters on my heels and this guy is in clogs. They were very nice people and I ended up seeing them later in Katmandu while KelnI were curing our hangovers with a couple Burgers. The last two hours of our walk was up and it was tough. Not the incline, just the walk, I was definitely staring to feel my body wear down because we didn’t eat lunch. Also, I probably sweat a couple of gallons out of my pours at this point. Deep hadn’t lost a drop and he was in a long-sleeve button up shirt and slacks, I couldn’t believe what he was wearing when he came and got me from my hotel in Katmandu. I thought to myself ‘This guy is probably gonna change before we start’ but he didn’t, the whole time. Granted my walking clothes hadn’t changed either but luckily I brought another pair of underwear and a long-sleeved REI shirt, because it was very difficult to dry your clothes up there and it got chilly at night. The contents inside my backpack got somewhat wet as well because I sweat right through that thing. I had my sketchpad in there and the cardboard on the back of it got damaged from the amount of perspiration that penetrated through my bag. We took one more break and sat down off the side of the road in the shade. It was then that I noticed dried blood on the side of my pants and knee level. They are the pants you can zip off into shorts so I unzipped the pant leg to find the side of my leg caked in dry blood. I didn’t freak out but I did realize why the bandanna I had tide around my belt loop had been stained with a rust color. It was hanging down a little past the knee and must have been brushing against my bloody pants. I notice the discolor a couple hours back but thought it was from the dirt. The funny thing is that I kept using it  to wipe my face and back of the neck, little did I know I was smearing dried blood all over my head. By the time we got to the top of Nazarkot it was around four and I was very happy that we had finally reached our homestay. I told deep that I would meet him for dinner in a couple hours and headed to my room. I hung my clothes, took a shower, shit, smoked half a joint, sat by my large window that overlooked the valley and wrote in my book, again by candlelight. Not that it was dark outside but because I’ve grown to appreciate the ways of life on the hill. Oh, if your wondering, I bought some weed the day before we left on our trek which I shouldn’t have done because there were a shit load plants that we passed on our hikes. Marijuana became illegal after the seventies in Nepal because of such an influx of hippies coming from the states throughout the sixties. Here is what I wrote. It’s kind of like a stream of conscious writing style and it’s still verbatim so forgive the lack of punctuation.Day 2 of Trek Spent 730 N RpsFri, 4 Sept 09’ Sitting in the room, writing by candlelight again. It is very relaxing and more natural, it fits. It was a beautiful, long and somewhat strenuous day, unlike yesterdays climb. It took about seven hours from Chisapani to (I forget the name of this hill, I need Kelly for this one.) but since she’s not here I’ll find out in a little bit when I meet ma’ nigga Dipendra for dinner. Isnt that a great name to have as a guide. I can Dipendra on him. That’s has to be my Nepali name, Dash Deependra, call me Dash Deep for short! I’m gonna shave before I see Kelly on Sunday and reveal my Nepali alter ego. Clean shaven and dastardly. Dash Danzabaar has died on this mountain (but he may return.) It was such a great day. My man Deep woke me up at 6:30 am and we went to the roof of our hotel and watched the sun come up. It was a pretty morning. There were some clouds but they were scattered and eye level. So just before the sun came up, probably about  ten minutes. I turn around and look at the peaks behind me and the tips of them protruding from the cloud line began to change colors from purples and pinks and then BAM the top of the sun explodes from behind the mountains, clouds beneath us and the sun at eye level. I could do nothing but stand in awe and think about the loved ones I’ve lost. I thought about the ones still with me, which Im grateful for but I mostly thought about the ones whose bodies and minds have physically left us the ones whose spirits and energies are floating around somewhere, maybe in heaven, maybe in the universe. I don’t know where but I do that wherever they are, they’re on my side. So thanks Lou, thank you for painting the sky for me this morning. Watched the sun come up over peaks and just like that it was pure white. The peaks where bright white all around me. The clouds got so dense below us and covered the thousands of miles of valleys between me and the mountains. The only things that became visible where the hill tops around me and the mountain peaks surrounding them. MT Nazarkot at Hotel peaceful cottage. Deep came and got me for dinner because I must’ve lost track of time writing and sketching. While we were eating dinner two young couples came into the restaurant which made six customers total, Deep and I and the two young Nepalise couples. Deep told me that the girls where prostitutes and that young rich guys would take them up here on their bikes, drink, eat and have sex with them. He told me he never took a girl to a hotel before, he said it is too expensive. One, he seemed too innocent to bring a girl to a hotel, two it is expensive and these are luxuries that eighty percent of the Nepalise population cannot afford and three if the prostitutes in Nepal looked like these girls I wouldn’t take them to a hotel either. It’s not that they where nasty, but I’m sure these guys could have found some girls that didn’t look like Godzilla and Mothra had a girl then beat her with a Ganesh head. After dinner I went down to my room, sketched for a bit and had no problem falling asleep that night. Deep woke me up for the sunrise again and it was another winner. It was not as clear as the morning before but it was just as beautiful. We watched the sun come up from the rooftop of the Peaceful Cottage and then went back to our rooms for another hour of rest. After breakfast we started out for Dulikel, it was suppose to be a four hour walk that took us two and a half, which I did not complain about. I went to my room and did the usual routine, hung up my clothes, smoke half a joint and relaxed while admiring the view from my window and writing.Day 3, Sat 5th Sept 09Spent 935 Rps It was an easy day today, we walked downhill for about 2hrs and only uphill for one. It happened to be in the very beginning. We walked uphill right off the bat. Forty-five minutes into it I asked Deep why he told me today was an easy day. He said “twenty minutes more and we go downhill.” And it was most of the time that I had my eyes down, following Deep’s footsteps because the roads arent your usual roads, they consist of mud, water, dirt, rock and stone. I only fell twice so far. It happened yesterday within minutes of one another. Luckily Dash Deep has a high-wata-booty and didn’t feel a thing. Yesterday was a pretty tough walk, we had to climb down half of the six hours and up the other half. We would sometimestake short-cuts right up the hill to our road above us and if there was another drainage path to the road above that, we’d take it. I also lost my filters so I decided to not smoke. I had three leeches on my leg, those fuckers draw a lot of blood. I didn’t even notice until about four hours into the walk. They had already used me and fallen off. There was a lot of dry blood on my leg. Then I checked my pants and there was a good sized spot of dry blood as well. I noticed my hankerchief had some stains on it awhile back and just realized that it was the blood off my pantleg. I had the hankerchief tied around my belt loop so the end of it was touching my bloody pant leg. So here I am using this blood-stained hankerchief  to wipe my face. Other than that nothing bad happened. The falling and leeches are the truth. But I didn’t stop smoking, I just smoked my tobacco without filters. When Dash Deep is 700 meters up a hill he don’t fuck around.  The homestay on the top of Dulikel had a great patio and because we got there early it gave me a chance to try and sketch the landscape after I got myself situated. When I started sketching I realized that I would need a lot more time to capture the valley that swayed and sloped before my eyes. There were houses that stood alone and villages clumped together on certain plateau’s of the hills. There were some parts of the hills carved out by steps of rice, maze and potato fields butted up against a thick forest of trees and wild bushes. It was a lot to try and take in with a more detailed focus but I did a half hour sketch anyway and will fill it in later. I watched the sun go completely down until the sky was dark it took about an hour and then went to my room to write, again by candlelight. Just came back from having a late lunch with D, I watched the sun sink behind the hills, it took a couple of hours from start to finish and was well worth it. I hope Kel is having a peaceful time. I’m excited to see her, she makes me laugh……when I make fun of her. The monster blister on my heel popped today. It started as a nice solid the first night so the second day I put a band-aid over it and wrapped duct-tape over it. I think that made it worse because the tape might have been pulling at the already puss-bubble of skin. That didn’t make it pop, it just made it bigger. I didn’t fall and no leeches. My guide keeps asking Kelly and I to a late lunch on Mon. It was nice and I told him “thank you but we’re going to be sleeping late.” Further explaining about our one year anniversary celebration on Sun night and that we’re probably not going to be getting up til’ later. To his reply, “Ya, late lunch, around 10:30am.” I couldn’t believe that was a late lunch. I really have enjoyed myself, it has been a good workout, indescribable scenery and good food from the little huts on the side of the road. It really has been an unforgettable experience. Tomorrow we walk three hours uphill to see a Buddhist temple, then we walk for one hour down to the bus stop, then back to Katmandu to see my Katwomandu. That is exactly what we did the next day, we did not wake up early for the sunrise though because we were lower in the valley and it was cloudy. So we slept in, had breakfast and started out around 9:30. After walking through a more populated town he pointed to a Buddha statue on top of a hill and told me that’s where we were going. It was three hundred and twenty steps to this monster golden Buddha statue and I was spent. He told me not to worry and that it was all downhill from there. It was except for another half hour uphill climb to the Buddhist temple. We waited for a bus before we began the climb up but Deep said it probably wouldn’t come for awhile. It finally showed up but it showed up when we were thirty-feet from the temple. As soon as it passed us we just looked at each other, pointed at the bus and started laughing. The temple was pretty cool, very elaborate décor and bright colors. There were also a pack of vicious dogs that wouldn’t stop following us and fighting each other throughout the temple. It made me a little nervous because they get pretty mean and they were getting pretty close at certain points. Until a Buddhist monk came out of nowhere and slapped the bottom of his foot down on the top of one of the dogs head. Then they scattered. I thought Buddhist where peaceful and humble beings but I guess not, there our some sects that are not so humble and quiet. Deep told me about one sect that chops up the body of someone who has past and sprinkles the parts about a field for the vultures to eat. That is looked at as a respectable way of transition into the afterlife or next life. Another crazy culture difference that is not right or wrong, I mean it’s wrong to most Americans because vultures are looked upon as disgusting, ugly and scavenger animals but not in the eyes of some Buddhist sects. Maybe some of their beliefs are carried down through Egyptian beliefs. There were some gods who where depicted with heads of birds that where similar to that of a vulture. It just makes me think that some religions are taken from different cultures and past religions. They just change some names and stories, add some things here, drop some things there and Bam!!! Another tool to control the populace is created. I think religion is a great way to build communities and strengthen families and if used properly, strengthen a sense of one self. But I see so many religions out there now that are used for power, money and greed. I mean, look at how much bloodshed has been spilt in the name of God, whatever the God may be.  O.K. I’m off that rant, sorry. The temple was beautiful and after a couple spins of the Buddhist prayer wheels I was ready to go. If anyone is wondering, yes I did reenact the scene from “The Golden Child.” It’s when Eddie Murphy pretends he’s a D.J. on the prayer wheel and says……“I I I I I I I I want the kniiiife! Pleeeeaaaaase?” We reached the bottom of Duhikel hill in about an hour and just missed the bus out of the village so we had to wait another hour for the next one. Oh yea, when we got to the bottom of the hill we passed a guy carrying a dresser on his back up the hill. A fuckin Dresser on these dirt and lose roads, with a strap around his head and he looked to be about sixty. A fucking Dresser, drawers and all, I had to take a picture but I waited til he passed me. During which time one of the village kids was trying to ask for what I thought was money. It was the same line I have heard from a lot of the village kids over the past four days in the hills. “Hello, give me pents!” While we were waiting for the bus I asked Deep what “Pents” meant, I thought it was money. He told me they were asking for “Pens” for school. I felt like such a dick, I would’ve brought boxes of pens with me to hand out on my trek journey if I knew before hand that they were lacking the means. Oh well it’ll be a good non-for profit to start up. We can give these trek guides a couple boxes of pens to hand out to the kids whenever they go up to the hills. The bus ride to Katmandu took about two and half hours. The first leg of it was the hardest because we were in the sticks and the road conditions were not maintained. Then when we got into the city the traffic was so bad that it took twenty minutes to go thirty feet, either way we had to be patient. It was the first time on this trip that I was anxious to get somewhere, usually if we were stuck somewhere I would shrug my shoulders and think ‘big deal, we have nine months.’ But that day I just wanted to see Kelly for our anniversary. We ended up getting off the bus early and walking back to the hotel, it was faster. Plus Deep had to take a piss bad and he spotted a place that had a public toilet. We got back to the hotel , I left to get a shave and some fanta for the vodka and returned to my wife clean shaven and mixer in hand. You know the rest of our trip from there, It was a great place to visit and we wish we could’ve spent more time there and less time in India. Oh, yea lets go back to India there are a couple more things I’d like to write about that happened during our last week in India and then I’m all caught up.Journal entry Monday Sept. 14th 2009 Well, I still haven’t caught up but Ive decide that its o.k., I think I prefer writing about instances well after they have occurred. It gives me time to process the information and reflect on how I felt at the time. KelnI I chillin poolside in Bankok right now…………………Journal Entry Wed, Sept 16th 2009…………………….I was going to write the other day but a huge wind storm came through so we had to go inside then I got sidetracked. We were sitting poolside on the sixth floor of a condo building. It was equipped with Jacuzzi’s, a steam shower and a sauna. The gentleman Joe and his wife Nirin let us stay at their guest condo while we were in Bankok, it sits on the Chao Phraya river and is twenty-six stories up. Its such a beautiful view of the river and the city. I got introduced to J through Scott, one of the regulars at Emmit’s, it’s a bar I worked at in the states. J and his wife have been such gracious hosts, he picked us up from the airport and took us out to dinner twice while in Bankok. I am in the Bankok airport right now awaiting our departure to Vietnam so I’ve decided to use this time to finish up my India stint. The reason I am determined to finish writing about our stay is because it only consists of the last week. So we left off in Jaipur and KelnI just had a near gem scam incident. Or at least that is what we think was going to happen. Neither of us are one-hundred percent positive but we di have a strong feeling that something wasn’t right before we got to the guy’s door. So the next day Kelly wasn’t feeling well so I decided to go out and take an auto rickshaw to the monkey temple, I cant get enough of those monkeys. The minute I walked out of the hotel entrance I was met by a man with the biggest smile. I had recognized him from the other day when he helped KelnI negotiate a ride into the pink city. He seemed like a friendly and honest man. So we began talking and I told him what I had wanted to do. He said he would take me to the monkey temple via the scenic route for five hundred Rupees. I told him that if we found filters for my tobacco sometime during our trip we had a deal. We shook on it and I jumped in his tuk-tuk. Before we started off he asked me if I smoked ganja, I told him on occasion and he suggested that we smoke and have some chai before we go. He twisted my arm and off we went. Before we reached the chai shack he pulled into a gas station and asked me for an advance of two hundred Rupees for fuel, I handed it over without question. While we were in the gas station I was reloading my camera and the attendants asked if I would take a picture of them so I did. They wanted to see the picture immediately and I showed them that it wasn’t digital. I asked my driver what the date was because I was marking it on the roll of film I had just pulled. He told me it was the 25th of August, then reacted with a bit of surprise when he realized himself what day it was. He told me it was his sons birthday today and asked if we could visit his home after we smoked. I told him I didn’t care and we continued on. We pulled up to this corner chai shack with about ten or twelve guys sitting under a tarp awning drinking chai. We get out and he pulls a bucket up for me to sit on within the group. He begins talking Hindi with one guy who was sitting Indian style on top of a rolling cart and the smoking began. The guy pulls out a churra (it’s a clay fired cone that is used to smoke) and asks if I have any tobacco, I pull a cig out of my pocket and break it up. He mixes it with the ganja and stuffs it into the churra then places this mangy white rag over the bottom of it. He takes a pull then passes it to my driver, Allum. My driver touches it to his head a couple times then to the ground and then raises it to the sky while recanting some kind of prayer, he takes a big hit then hands it to me. All the guys eyes are upon me at this point. I think they were waiting to see if I knew how to smoke out of it. I raised it to my forehead and recited a couple lines from “Brothers gonna work it out” by Public Enemy. Everyone started laughing as I pulled a big hit from the churra. They all stopped in silence and stared at me until I exhaled a big stream of smoke and they all let out a cheerful approval. It was kinda cool sitting around chatting it up with the group and being apart of the tuk-tuk crowd. I watched as some of them put on their work shirts and headed out for a day of charging tourists triple the amount for a ride. We passed the churra around acouple more times, finished our chai and headed for Allum’s home. He told me that he didn’t want me to judge him by his home because it wasn’t that nice of a home. I assured him that I was not the type a person who judges a person based on where they live or what they do. As a matter of fact I don’t judge anyone I just make fun of them. My flight is boarding, get back to it later.Journal Entry Thur. Sept 17th 2009 Our flight to Hanoi was smooth and only took 2hrs, then upon landing our plane got a flight tire and we had to pulled close to the terminal then bussed to our gate. Our hotel arranged a cab for us from the airport and we got to it around ten pm. It was a nice room with a/c, tv, fridge, wi-fi and a our own gigantic rat. It was about an hour after we got settled and I was flippin’ through the stations while Kellly was on the computer before she saw it. All I heard was a tremendous scream and felt her go flying passed my out of the room screaming “Rat, Rat!!” I kept asking her were she saw it but she was already down in the lobby. One employee came up and was making gestures with his hands to ask me how big it was, going from mouse size with his hands close together to rat size with them held further apart. I told him I didn’t see it and we began to look around the room. We were then accompanied by another employee and we started moving furniture around. We finally scared it out of it’s hiding spot when we moved the fridge, the hunt was on. Picture me and two little Vietnamese kids jumping around the room trying to kill this thing, it was pretty amusing. One had a broom stick, the other had a shoe and I was the spotter. This thing was fast and any time this thing showed itself the two kids went after it with fury. At one point it ran over my feet, luckily I had put my boots on prior to the hunt. Then it scurried up the coat rack and tried to jump on the curtain, these guys had done this before because they put the curtains up on the rods. It finally ran into the bathroom and one of the kids went in there and closed the door behind him. The only thing I could think of was Mad Max Beyond the Thunder Dome, “Two men enter, one man leave.” Not even twenty seconds go by and the door opens, I thought the rat was gonna come waltzing out holding the little Vietnamese kid in its mouth, but it was the other way around, but he didn’t have it in his mouth, he was holding by the tail. He dropped the dead rat in our garbage and wrapped it up. I noticed he took one of Kelly’s boots in with him so I imagine that was what he used to kill it, I didn’t tell Kelly that though. Needless to say we moved to a different hotel this morning but it was hard to convince her to go back to the room after that. We just got a bunch of beer and she drank them very fast in order to fall asleep. Today we walked around Hanoi and did some sightseeing. We booked a two night three day excursion to Ha long bay, it sounds great we spend one night on a boat and one on an island with kayaking, cave exploring and trekking in between. We also went to the Hanoi prison that was built by the French in the late nineteenth century. It was used by them to hold, torture and kill Vietnamese rebels and later used to hold American Air Force fighters who were shot down during the American/Vietnamese war, John McCain was a prisoner there. They showed a video of our B52 bombers devastating the city of Hanoi, after I walked home from there I looked around and couldn’t believe that it was only thirty some years ago and how well the city recovered. I almost felt like apologizing to every Vietnamese I walked past and had trouble looking them in the eye without showing some sort of guilt. I cant imagine the city of Chicago getting bombarded the way Hanoi was and it reminded me how lucky I am to be an American. We’ve only had two major attacks on our own soil from foreign nations since the Revolutionary war and cant imagine a full on war taking place in our country, cities, towns and neihborhoods. I honestly don’t think that the American people would ever let it get to that point but I still feel myself to be a privileged human being to have that sort of protection. I know that war is something that has happened since the dawn of man and it will continue until the end of mankind, but it doesn’t mean I have to agree with it. I respect those who go to war for our country and do their job, no matter what the cost. It allows me the freedom to live in such a great nation. Sorry about the rant and I hope that those who are reading this don’t take it the wrong way, I am not criticizing any of our soldiers for anything they’ve done here, I’m just still confused by the whole thing and am trying to understand our place in that particular war. How about we go back to my tuk-tuk driver Allum and how he took me for a ride around town but never to are agreed location. So after we smoke and have chai we get back into his auto rickshaw and head to his house, which he kept saying that it’s the last house in Jaipur. He wasn’t joking, after about ten minutes through his neighborhood, which took about twenty to get to, we had to park his vehicle and wlk. The reason being is because the streets were too narrow and his tuk-tuk wouldn’t be able to make it over some of the drainage ditches we had to jump over. Upon walking to his house we passed make-shift huts and shops and I felt like the Pide Piper because more and more kids began trailing behind yelling, hello and shaking my hand. They also imitated everything I had done and said then began laughing. Allum tried to shoo them away many times but they would just come back and continue to follow. We finall got to the end of the road and it was met by a huge sand dune. Allum pointed to his homw on the right and it literally was the last home in Jaipur. It butted right up against the foot of the dune. He led me up the dune and I took some pictures while he told me about how Bill Clinton came here and funded a project to put up houses on the other side of the dune. There were plows and tractors smoothing out the area he referred to. He praised Clinton for opening up jobs and trying to establish better homes, I just couldn’t believe that after six years there had been little progress. We went back to his home which was about four feet high and was about ten foot long by ten foot wide. I had to duck to get in and duck lower to avoid the ceiling fan. There were four pieces of furniture in his place, a cot, chair, table and chest. One corner was used for a fire pit and it was occupied by him, his wife and their two boys, who I met. He offered for me to sit on his cot but I joined him on the floor and were served chai by a young Indian girl who was his neighbor. The whole time I was in there with him talking politics and religioun there were a group of kids huddled around his entry way and every fifteen minutes he would get up to chase them away from the hut. They ran away laughing and giggling but returned a couple minutes later. He showed me some pictures and I should him my sketchbooks and the drawings I have done thus far. While I was flipping through my bigger book he notices that I had a poster of Obama folded up in the middle of my book. They way it was folded exposed only the smile Obama had in the picture, It was a good sized poster that I had gotten out of a Rolling Stone magazine before we left. He begged and pleade for me to give it to him. I was so wrapped up in his hospitality and charm that I gave it to him. He kept saying that one day if Obama visit’s India he can show the security guards the poster and maybe get close enough for him to sign it.  He introduced me to his family and we headed back to his rickshaw. He asked if I wouldn’t mind going bake to the smoke circle, I told him not at all and away we went, with a bunch of little kids running behing us saying goodbye. Before we got back to the smoking corner he picked up three women and gave them a lift about a half mile up the road. Two of the women were older and was covered from head to toe, I figured her to be Muslim. The other third was a girl in her mid twenties and sat on the woman’s lap next to me. She kept looking at me and smiling. The older woman whose lap she was on kept asking me if I was married. I told her I was and in our country we can only have one, to which the younger girl shook her head and frowned at me. It was quite amusing. By the time we finished our chai and second session it was about five pm and I figured I should be getting back home to see how Kelly was feeling. After the thought he mentioned to me that it was getting late and  asked if I minded if he took me home. I told him I was just thinking that and he asked me if we could wait ten minutes for his friend to finish his prayers. He was in a Mosque down the street and it was Ramadan, I told him that I didn’t mind and we waited by his tuk-tuk. In the middle of our conversation he looked past me and his face dropped as if we were going to get attacked by full army brigade. I turned around a saw a bigger sized tuk-tuk heading in our direction. He quickly told me that it was his boss and he owed him five-hundred Rupees or he would take his rickshaw away from him. His boss pulled up and started yelling something at him in Hindu, probably about how he owed him money. Right then and there I thought to myself ‘Here we go, another scam, I just got taken and the whole time I thought this guy was really being nice to me.’ I told him that I didn’t have any money and that Allum had to take me bake home to get it. After about ten minutes of arguing back and forth with him he finally let us go. On the way home I confronted Allum about his scam and told him I couldn’t believe that he took me to his house to guilt me into seeing how poor he was and not because he wanted to be a gracious host. He stopped the tuk-tuk and tried to convince me that it wasn’t a scam and that he was going to lose his rickshaw if he didn’t give him the money. I told him I believed him, even though in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but feeling duped. We got back to my hotel and I went inside and got two hundred Rupee. I told him that I gave him two hundred already for gas and he tried to say that it was a gift. I should have turned around and walked back into the place but I resisted and tried to find some kind of good in him. Which I really think there was and I don’t mind giving him the money, it’s like seven American but it’s the principal of the matter. I don’t mind helping out but he went for my heart and he succeeded. I gave him the other two hundred plus a picture I drew to give to his son for his b-day. Looking back I don’t think it was his sons birthday and I don’t think he had any intention of taking me to the monkey temple. I walked back into my hotel with a sour taste in my mouth, I wanted to believe that there is good in people so bad but reminded myself of the financial crises that most of these people are in, it didn’t help. I felt taken, I am without Kelly for one day and I get taken advantage of. All in all though it was a great experience for me, I got to smoke and comiscerate with the locals, I got to see a part of Jaipur that not a lot of tourists see and I got to see how most of these people lived. We only had a couple more days in Jaipur so one morning I took a walk with the owners son of the hotel to a fort that looked over the city, it was About an hour walk total and the view was worth it even the the walk uphill was hard. We left Jaipur and headed to Agra, this time the Taj was open and it was worth going back to see. The place was huge and the gates were surrounded by loads of tauters. Everyone was selling everything that had to do with the Tal-Mahal and we bought a couple snow globes and a couple t-shirts. While we were inside the compund of the Taj it rained for a bit, it rained more than it had rained on us the whole time we were in India. We waited it out though and walked around when the sun came out, the place is remarkable and so pristine. The inside of the actual place wasn’t all that when you compare it to the architecture of the outside. Im very glad we went back though, you cant go to India and not see the Taj. That night we took a train to Delhi, it was so much cleaner and more relaxed than Mumbai which was a relief. Our hotel was in the main market street which was filled with tourists. We walked around the city one day and sent a bunch of shit home via DHL, it cost a lot of money. The last thing I have to say about India is that it reminds me of a very beautiful girl that your in a relationship with. The only problem is you cant trust her, you keep wanting to because she’s beautiful but you always catch her in a lie. Then we flew into Nepal which I already wrote about so we don’t need to rehash good times. That brings us to our stay in Bankok at J and Nirim’s guest condo. I felt like a high roller in this joint. Looking over the city at night was magical because all the boats were lit up along the river. The city is set up like L.A., it’s spread out and has about the same population, even the weather is the same, hot and humid. The Hoesses took us out to dinner two nights out of our five night stay and they put some food and drinks in the condo. It was very nice of them and it allowed us to buy some extra gifts form our budget. We hit up Koa Sahn Road, it’s basically a market street filled with shops resturaunts, bars and street vendors. We found a table on the street and just watched people, it was a good time. While we were out there we met a kid from Nepal that was trying to get people to go inside and see his shop. We chatted him up and joked with him a bit, he was a good kid and also had a chicken chest, imagine that. It wasn’t as big as mine but his sternum did have a knob on it. He tried to get us to go in his shop and I told him “Chai Dina” It means “No, leave me alone” in Nepalese, he thought it was hilarious that I knew that. The second time Joe and Nirin took us out we had tex-mex, it was good shit. I also found out that his brother lives in Gobles MI, what a fucking shocker that was. Here I was sitting in Bankok and eating dinner with someone whose brother lives in the same small town that I spent my summers with my grandmother and continually go up there because my father still ownes the cottage that my grandfather built in the sixties. There was another strange coincident, after we got settled in his condo we threw on the t.v. and Ocean’s Eleven was on. The bar I used to work at called Emmit’s is in that movie and that is how I got the connection in Bankok. One of my regular’s is Joe’s brother-in-law and when I told him about KelnI going on this journey he gave me Joes email addresss and told me to look him up. Crazy shit right? After dinner they walked us to Pat Pong road, its another market street but this one is jumping at night. Mainly because of the bars that line the sides of the street and a lot of these bars promote the “Ping-Pong” show. There are people outside of the bars holding up signs and trying to get you to go in to their establishment to see a “Ping-Pong” show. The doors are open and you see a bunch of Thai girls up on the stages in their bikini’s dancing. Kelly and I stuck around after J and Nirin left. We bartered and bought some shit then chilled on a street side bar and people watched some more. It was a good time, we hit up a couple more bars and called our house. It was about 11 pm but 11am at home. Bankok is exactly half way around the world from Chicago and my mom was getting ready for the Bears/Packers opening game. It was her birthday the day before and I wanted to wish her a happy belated. It was nice to hear her voice, both her and my dad were on the phone abd I could’ve talked forever but it was pretty expensive so I only talked for ten minutes. Kelly called home because Geri was having Mo’s baby shower so she got to talk to Geri and Mo. It was nice for the both of us and we left with big smiles and our hearts full. That brings us here to Hanoi, Im finally caught up, it feels good. Now I can write about things while their fresh in my mind. Im looking forward to the next month and half traveling through Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. J and Nirin let us leave a bag at their condo because we are returning to Bankok before heading south, maybe then me and J will go and see a “Ping-Ping” show while the girls go to a club. That’s so far away though and Im just looking forward to the excursion tomorrow.