A Year in the World

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.

Okay, our 1st official entry.  We leave for the airport in 40min.  We are off to Ireland-the homeland!  We had a great time in San Diego partying with the Wrights.  NYC has been fabulous, thanks Grouch!

Journal Entry Friday 7/10/09

                I  know we haven’t written in our blog for awhile. And forgive my typing skills for I am writing this in my bottom hostel bunk bed, it’s late and I’m in Amsterdam and there is a party going on in the hallway, I would join in but we just flew in from Scotland today and it‘s not really a party it‘s just two French guy‘s yelling something back and forth at each other.. But lets go back to the start of our journey over the great Atlantic.

                It all started in Shannon, where we flew into the emerald Isle about six-thirty in the morning’ and got the car. Driving was a bit of a task because I had to drive on the opposite side of the road on the right side of the car. And on top of that the roads were very tight with tight curves through many areas. I just took my time and when someone began to creep up on me (which happened a lot) I just moved to the side of the road and let them pass. I was white knuckling it for the first couple days than I got used to it.

                We headed toward the cliffs of Moher, they were a sight to see and the first because we got to them about eight-thirty. Kelly asked if I wanted to go and see anything else but I just wanted to get to Galway and rest, the reason being is we left NY at six-thirty pm and arrived in IRL at six-thirty am so I was a little jet lagged. We arrived into Galway around eleven-thirty and got a room at the hostel called Heyden’s. We walked around a bit and I had my first Guinness at the Furty Rabbit, We walked some more and had lunch at Richards and had a couple more pints.  We were going to try and stay up til’ the evening to get into the time switch but after lunch and beers we knew that would’ve been impossible. So we got a nap in and then went out to check out Galway’s nightlife. We got a nice spot outside on the front patio of a bar that was packed and just watched as people went by, intoxicated. There were a lot of hen parties walkin’ around and a lot of younger kids roaming the streets and boozing it up. We didn’t get too trashed and ended up in bed fairly early.

                June 21^st Sunday (Summer Solstice)

                We were up by eight-thirty ate breakfast and checked out by ten. We got on the net and reserved our Haggis bus tour in Scotland and we were on the road by eleven-thirty. We stopped in Clifton for some lunch about one-thirty and I had some of the best seafood chowder of my life at a place called Off the Square, I still think about it and can taste the chunks of salmon, mussels and shrimp rollin’ around on my palette. We then hiked around in Connemara Nat’l park there were some beautiful views. I was tempted to go back to Clifton and by a soft wool cover to put over Kelly in the park and performed sexual acts off the side of the path for the passersby to see. It was and image I had in my head while on our hike because of the random sheep that grazed the park. It was a humorous thought that I shared with her and we both got a good laugh out of it. We just played it out in our heads, Seamus and his family going for a nice hike to find me sexing it up with what appears to be someone dressed in sheeps clothing.

                July 24^th Friday

                That’s what day I’m writing in this journey journal, We are now in India. I know we are not that good at keeping up with blogging but when we are using the computer it is usually to download stuff, email, face book or research how we are moving to our next destination. So I will highlight the journey thus far. In Ireland we had to lock-ins, that is when the bar closes and you drink for free because the owner is there and you can smoke. We met a very nice couple in Westport and had some good Craic. Their names were Ken and Tarah Henry and they were away for the weekend for their 18^th wedding anniversary, We explained to them that  we were heading north and they told us that if we were going through Sligo to call them.

                We did just that and ended up staying at their house for two nights. They have three children Richard 19, Dillon 15,  Lauren 13. They were all very nice. Dillon and Lauren took me fly-fishing. It was awesome even though I didn’t catch anything. We fished old school in a row boat on a small lake but the lake was filled with Algae and it was really sunny outside.  Before we stayed with the Henry’s but after we met them in Westport we found some of Kelly’s relations in Crossmolina. After we left Westport we drove into Crossmolina and began to do some investigating as to where we may find her family. Her grandfather was born in Ireland in 1902 but left the country in the twenties and there is very little record as to exactly where he was born and raised. So we went to the towns resource department but they said it would cost forty Euro to look up info online and even then there was no guarantee. So Kelly asked the woman to look up Granahan in the phonebook and we found out it was spelled Granaghan in Ireland and there a few in the area. She showed us a map of Crossmolina and Kelly circled where she thought the farm might have been that her grandfather was born and raised on.

                We drove around for awhile, through Derryhillagh and started going through smaller roads. We ended taking an educated guess turn and drove for about twenty minutes until we came to a dead end and realized that we were diving through a farm owners road. So we turned around and dodged some sheep in the road. Before we came out of the road we came upon the farmers house and he was just getting out of his tractor so I suggested to kell to go and ask him. We got out and asked him if he knew any Granahan’s and he replied that his Grandmother was a Granahan. It was such a great coincidence, he got on the phone with his sister because she knew more of the family history and she suggested we go see Joseph. The farmers name who we stopped to talk to was Joseph as well and we followed him to the other Joseph’s house who happened to be home and Kelly’s Grandfathers Nephew. He was about 78 with two hearing aids and still farmed the land. He sat us down and showed us old pictures of the family.

                He was very demanding as to where we stood or sat to look at the pictures. Kelly and I had to be on either side of him while looking at them. Even though I didn’t know anyone in the pictures it was still interesting to see old pictures taken as late as the fifty’s in Ireland. He would say to us, “I’ll tell you what to do, you sit here and you sit here and we’ll look at some photo’s.” I sat where he told me because even though he was old and I didn’t know him from Adam or Steve he had a demeanor that you paid attention to and followed his instructions. He also had a farmhand  working there at the time and he would say. “Boyoh!! Get the Paddy’s from the cabinet and three glasses.” the boy put the Paddy’s out and when he went for the glasses Joseph would shout at him, “Not those glasses boyooh, the nice ones from the other cabinet.” He was a nice man. We stayed for a couple hours and had some tea and bread then let him go because he had to attend a wake. That was a good memory of Ireland meeting Kelly’s relations.

 

Journey log entry  Sunday August 2, 2009

                I am continuing this journal of our journey in India, we are relaxing in our home stay after a nice sweaty walk down the fisherman’s market. It’s about four in the afternoon and we leave in an hour and half for our orientation into the volunteer work we are starting tomorrow. But before that let us go back to where we left off in Ireland. After meeting Kelly’s relations we drove to a small little town called Easkey. We decided to treat ourselves to a nice little B&B for honeymoon sake. It was a very nice place but we probably could’ve passed out by the river for free after our craic at the Fisherman’s Wier later that evening. After we dropped our bags we took a walk through town which lasted a total of five minutes, that’s how small it was. We ended up going into a Pub/Restaurant called The Fisherman’s Wier, which later on found out it was also a B&B. We had some fish n chips and then I went out back for a fag only to meet Richard. We bellied up to the bar with him and talked about everything from traveling, music and movies to politics and family. The night went on and we were feeling good after a couple two, three…..four to six pints of Guinness. The man tending bar, Vince, was also the owner. After everyone had left he locked the doors and we sat for a few more pints on the house. We smoked and laughed listening to the stories of Nick living in Jamaica “Actin’ the Maggot.” We got back to the B&B around two in the morning and passed out.

                The next day we walked down the river til’ it met the ocean and came back. I ended up sitting on the edge of the river and painted the beautiful cobblestone bridge that the river flowed under. My parents have that one. Kelly went back to the Weir to eat and write in her journal. In the meantime I was being watched by a couple gents, when Kelly came over to me a couple hours later we had the opportunity and pleasure to meet the two. They were pretty well on their way and it was about two in the afternoon. They were a complete mess, missin’  teeth, hair disheveled and stinking of whiskey and beer. One of the gents who smoked a pipe kept making the other one sing for us. He had a decent voice if you understood what he was singing. We said thank you after about four or five songs, shook their hands and tried to leave. The only problem was the one who sang with no teeth wouldn’t let go of Kelly’s hand and kept saying “Yer a beguiler.” I think he was trying to say You’re a beautiful girl, lucky for me I understood the language of drunk and interjected after a solid minute of repetitive handshaking and slurring. I could’ve done it sooner but what’s the fun in that.

                That night we drove into Sligoh and stayed at Ken and Tarah’s farmhouse for a couple days. Our journey continued to Donegal where we stayed for a night and a few nice people at a pub and listened to an Irish rock band, drank and danced. Derry was next on our stops but before that we went to the Giant’s Causeway, it was a beautiful site and I managed to get a quick sketch off. The town of Derry was nice, it had a lot of history and there was a street that was lined with about ten humungous mural’s of different scenes from Easter Sunday, if you don’t know the history google it. There were a lot of innocent lives lost and the murals depicted that along with many other scenes, it was humbling. We then hit up Belfast and found a hostel right away, little did we know it was not in the greatest of neighborhood’s so we stayed in that night and just surfed the web, wrote and played cards. On the corner across from the hostel was a bar we could’ve gone into but the only problem was it had a cage encasing the front door, so we opted against that idea. The guys that came out of the bar to smoke we’re loud and hard to understand, except when they swore. When they smoked outside the bar they still remained in the cage, it was something to see. When I was outside having a smoke later in the evening some guy tried to bring a girl in the bar with him and caught a lot of shit for it. He finally told one of the chap’s to go get the owner and they were eventually let in.

                We got outta Belfast as fast as we got into it. Before we hit up Belfast we went to Slieve League and then to the rope bridge which is about forty-feet long and four or five stories above the ocean. It connects to a very tall and small rock island that jets up from the ocean floor. The only bad thing about crossing it is you had to cross again to get back to the mainland, I felt like India Jones in Temple of Doom, if you haven’t seen that one your missing out.

               

Journal Entry Tuesday, August 3^rd 2009

                We began heading south and bypassed Dublin because after we dropped the car back off in Shannon we took a bus to Dublin and hung out there for a couple days before flying out. So we ended up in Kilarney and found a nice hostel to stay at. We went out for a couple drinks, as it always goes, and ended up staying out til’ about five in the morn’. We hit up a bar that was supposedly haunted and had a witch in it. The witch was chillin’ in the fireplace. She was a mannequin, but still scary. After listening to the live music Kel n I found our way downstairs into the smoking area. I noticed a couple from our hostel and invited them to join us. They were from Canada, what gave it away was the guys huge and bright hockey jersey he was wearing with pride. Later in the evening he made a remark about American’s being loud and throughout the evening he became loud. TOOL BOX. Anyway we ended up closing that place and found a late night bar, it was packed and people we’re trying to dance to Jai-Ho. That’s the song from Slum dog it was very popular. The only good thing the Can add did that night was finding a quieter bar upstairs so we sat up there and got one more before they closed. After an hour or so the owner showed up. His name was John Carrigan and he was a major character. Tall, long face with a gouge taken out of his ear and he didn’t stop telling stories of his travels to America and his trials and tribulations in Ireland. It was fine with me because we experienced our second lock in.

                That’s right, he locked the bar, we began smoking and got our drinks for free the rest of the night. The Can Add finally asked him what happened to his ear and we got a forty-five minute story that ended up with him in a bar fight in NY and a guy bit it off…..I think. It was very vague and hard to understand but I would not want to be in a fight with this bloak because his mitt’s were the size of mallet’s. John also managed to get the Can Adds jersey off of him to hang in his bar. It was a good time until we started walking back to the hostel and the Can Add got real loud and annoying, he kept saying “I bet that guy was part of the IRA, holy shit we hung out with an IRA member.” Those aren’t letters used aloud in Ireland and when they are it’s during an intimate and quieter manner, DUESCHE PIPE. We offered them a ride South earlier in the night and after that display we ditched them the next morning and headed to Kinsale. It was a beautiful little harbor town that we walked in at night, very charming.

                We then headed to Killarney for our last night with the car, I can’t remember what happened there or maybe nothing really exciting did. We dropped the car off the next day at the Shannon airport and caught a bus to Dublin. That was pretty cool, we hit up the Guinness brewery, Jameson distillery and Temple Bar. That is an area strictly for tourists but we went to a couple bars anyway because that’s exactly what we were. The second bar we went to was Kelly’s call, she was greeted by someone from Equador on the street who suggested we go upstairs to the bar she was representing. Because she sounded like my friend Karla we went up. It wasn’t fifteen minutes in the place before I noticed my cousin Craig walk in. I said to Kelly “Holy Shit it’s Craig.” When I said Craig she didn’t know who I was referring to because we met so many random people already. I made sure he didn’t see me and when he walked up to the bar to get a drink I made sure to make his path obstructed with my back to him, every time he tried to get around me I would move in front of him. I then turned around and he looked as surprised as I did when he walked in. We hugged and he introduced me to his friend from Australia. We went to the next level upstairs and had a couple drinks, it was kind of surreal because I kept reminding myself we were in Ireland and not some bar in Chicago.

                We left Ireland the next day with great stories and wonderful memories, it is a welcoming country and everyone was always havin’’ some good craic. We flew into Scotland the next day which just happened to be the fourth of July and one of the workers at the hostel we stayed at just happened to be American from Philly. He had a BBQ that day and Kel n I enjoyed American beers and Scotland burger’s on the patio. The American’s name was Kyler and he was the only other American besides us in the joint. We sat around and talked about the states then he gave us the low down of Edinborough. IT is a really great city and the people from Scotland are just as welcoming as Ireland. The next day I went on a free three hour walking tour of the city. IT was very entertaining and informative. There are many stories to be told there and I would not be able to do the stories justice so you’ll have to check it out for yourselves. Later that night Kel n I went and got a 2 liter of cider and some pizza, then went back to the hostel to eat and drink. There was a lot of people in the common area and it was a huge hostel so it ended up being a nice little party.

                I can’t remember if it was the next day or the day after but we started our three day Haggis tour early in the morning. It was two nights and three days. The first castle we went to had a couple hairy koos outside of it. Those things are the bomb diggity and that’s when I realized where my best friend Brian Hurley came from, it wasn’t from Tom and Barb and he will forever be known in my heart as a Hurley Koo. We went to Loch ness after that, it was a big lake with a big story behind it. Our guide Kyle was a young Scot with a flair for storytelling and a great sense of humor. At one point during the tour we we’re going through a town and Kyle said that it was known for the ugliest people in Scotland which he referred to as Munter’s. He instructed us to shout out Munter when we saw one from the bus, it was cruel but entertaining enough to keep us occupied. That night Kel n I hit up one of the two pubs open in town, it was a small town and the pub was a five minute walk from our hostel. The bartender busted out the bagpipes for a song and put them away quickly because he said the people sleeping upstairs might complain. It was about one in the morning so I could understand his reasoning.

                The next day we went to the Isle of Sky, it was absolutely magnificent. We stopped at many places to take pictures and Kyle told us stories of the Jack-o-bites who defended their land from the British for many centuries. They we’re the hardest to fight because they knew the highlands so well. But the life of a Jack-o-bite was not a pleasant one, the living conditions were terrible and the weather was even worse during the winter month’s. If you were a male you were born and raised to fight and die, the life expectancy was not very high, from the stories told it was hard ass livin’. That night the tour guides hosted a pub quiz at the hostel and both bus tours we’re involved. Our team consisted of Kel n I, two Aussies and a Canadian. We won the quiz part, Kelly was a rock star. There was a part of the contest for who can tell the raunchiest joke, we won that as well. I told the one about the little girl walking into the bathroom while her dad was in the shower and asked when she was going to get one of those between her legs to his reply, in about fifteen minutes when your mother goes to work. Hey I’m not condoning that kind of behavior I just came up with the raunchiest joke. Then we had a dance off at the end of the game and yours truly was nominated from our team. The first part was to dance to the Napoleon Dynamite song and luckily I’ve seen that movie enough times to know some of his sweet moves. I made it to the next round in which I pulled off my Micheal Jackson move to win it (he had just pasted so it was a crowd pleaser. The third round I pulled out all the tricks, I even got up on a table and took my shirt off, waving around like a crazed Scotsman riding a Hairy Koo. Needless to say we one the overall contest and I was forever known as Dancin’ Dan Doyle on the trip……in my own mind.

                We left the next day to go back to Edinborough and stopped at the William Wallace Museum, it was pretty huge and they set it up on top of the peak where her scouted the first castle he sacked, Sterling Castle that made the tide turn and people started believing in him and joining his cause to kick out the English. The Scotts and the Irish have no problem speaking aloud about their dislike of the English and what they have done to their countries. Even before the tour started Kyle asked and warned that if anyone was English he apologized in advance for the bashing. We got back to our hostel we stayed at before the tour for our last night in Scotland. The next day we got on a plane for Amsterdam, that’s when we took a little bump in the road. Kelly got a head and chest cold, it was Thursday and we were there til’  Mon, with the exception of visiting her friend Noe in Belgium. I went out that night and picked up some weed, rolled a joint and smoked it as I walked the street’s and took some photo’s.  I didn’t stay out too late because Kelly was still in the hostel feeling like garbage. The hostel would’ve been great if she felt good because we we’re right in the middle of everything. Coffee shop’s, the red light district and a lot of bar’s. In fact our hostels common area was a bar and it was packed on Thursday night, trying to get through the crowd of about fifteen feet took me ten minutes, it was my fault though because I was following a couple guys from Georgia and their southern hospitality didn’t meld well with pushing through a crowd. They just kept waiting for an opening and there was none so I just ended up jumping in front of them and pushing through, the Chicago way, a hand on the person whom I was passing with a slight push and an excuse me to top it off, worked like a charm. I got into the room and Kelly was all hunkered into her bed coughing away, I felt bad but there was nothing I could do but ask her if she needed anything and get it for her.

                The other good thing about that hostel was they had a better breakfast than any of the hostel’s we stayed at thus far. Three different types of cereal, fruit and bread, meat and cheese to make sandwiches with. We stocked up for lunch after we had our fill of breakfast. Kel was still feeling a bit under the weather and suggested I go to the Van Gogh Museum without her and so I did. It was kind of nice to be on my own for the first time since our trip. I don’t mean alone, because I’ve been alone many of times, I mean navigating and following the map, taking a route that didn’t entail stopping to decide which way to go, I just went. I would have liked Kelly to be there but I got a little taste of what it is like being on my own for a bit and finding my way. It was then that I realized how many decisions needed to be made when traveling with someone. At almost every corner, any time schedule, what means of transportation to take, where to eat. All of these things must be taken in to consideration when having a travel partner but that day was mine and the Van Gogh Museum was absolutely inspiring. They had almost everything he’s ever done with the exception of some of his more famous work, I’m sure that stuff goes on tour regularly. It took me about three hours to go through his gallery because I studied every piece carefully and than went back to my favorites. I even snuck a picture off inside the museum and was immediately approached by security with a strong wave of the finger.

                I left there totally and completely full, not my stomach but my mind, it was as if my eyes had swallowed four hundred images and they were swimming around my head like a school of piranha’s during a feeding frenzy. It was exhilarating, so I just found the closest park and sat down to eat a piece of fruit that I had smuggled out of breakfast and just relaxed. After that I found my way to the Anne Frank Museum but the line was really long and it was getting close to dinner time so I went back to the hostel to see if Kel wanted to get something to eat, which she did so we went out for a short walk and some dinner. I dropped her off at the hostel after dinner and went for a walk only to stumble onto the Red Light District. It was an interesting scene, ladies in their undergarments opening the door to their rooms whispering things like “I need you, I want you, get in her and fuck my brains out.” That one I stopped and thought about…..just kidding, and I know what you must be thinking, yea right you “stumbled” upon it, but in all honesty I did. It wasn’t to hard, a couple left turns from our hostel and it was right there. I didn’t go further into the smaller street’s of the district because I felt a little awkward. Sure I’ve been to strip clubs and bachelor parties before but this was way different, women we’re out right offering sexual acts and there were many people walking around along side or passing you by. IT was kind of like trying to by a Playboy for the first time at a convenience store and there was an old lady behind you in line. You’re a little embarrassed but you get it anyway and rush out of the store. Except I didn’t get anything I just kind of rushed out of there, It was my first time through the area and I was by myself. If I we’re with someone to share the experience I probably would have been a little more relaxed.

 

Journal Entry Friday, August 7^th 2009

                The next day we got up and checked out of our hostel for the night. We we’re headed to Belgium to visit with Kelly’s friend Noë. I had now caught the head and chest flu that Kelly had for the past two days and it poured while we walked to the train station. It was a two and a half hour to Brussels and Noe met us at the train station. It wasn’t that far to their house so we walked there. Noe, her husband Sabastion and their two kids, one son Julian four years of age and their daughter Willow was two, lived in a nice sized and open loft in Brussels. Their son spoke three languages, Dutch because of the school, German because of Sabastion and English because of Noe, he was already smarter than I with a thirty-one year difference. We walked to a nice square and drank really good Belgium beer. I only had a couple because I was still under the weather, traveling is not fun sick so I sustained from having a lot to drink. I wish I could’ve said the same for Kelly because after a couple hours Sebastion and I went back to their place with the kids while Noe and Kelly stayed out for awhile longer. I can’t blame her for trying because she was feeling better and hasn’t seen Noe in about three years. Their neighbor let us stay at his place because he wasn’t using it for the weekend. Their neighbor was a fifty year old bachelor with a tight pad that he only used as a little get away.

                It was a very modern loft with a clean look. Stainless steel kitchen, open spaces, cool Euro furniture and little clutter. His bathroom was the best he had a double sided mirror a jet stream bath and a steam shower. When Bastion and I got back to the joint I went right to the steam shower to try and get all the shit outta my system. It worked to an extent but didn’t clear me out completely, regardless it was great to sit in there and relax. I went back into Noe and Sebastion’s place just as he put the kids to bed. He rolled a Euro joint (with tobacco) and we sat out on their patio and talked about music, politics and movie’s, he is a very intellectual person but not overbearing or in a way to intimidate or control a conversation. We ordered some Thai and it arrived a little bit after the girls did. We left the next day back to Amsterdam and both of us still feeling like shit. We got into Amsterdam in the early evening, dropped our stuff off, got something to eat and headed back to the hostel. On our return after having a great bowl of chicken noodle soup we ran into the couple that we shared our room with before Brussels. I gave him the remaining weed that I had to hold onto because I didn’t want to travel with it. They were both from Northern Cali and in their early twenties. When we first arrived into our room with them the usual traveling questions ensued? Where are you from? Where have you been? Where are you going? After we told them of our travels thus far, with a full explanation of our So Cal party with Kelly’s family the girl mention that she hated people from So Cal. Kel n I both looked at her like, didn’t we just get done telling you that we were there visiting Kelly’s family. I think she then noticed what she had said and quickly stated that she didn’t like people her age from So Cal. Oh yea that made it much better, whatever, they were young and she was kind of flighty.

                The night we got back and I mentioned my weed he said that he accidentally threw it out. Right, I would have been fine if he told me the truth, besides I told him to help himself anyway and there wasn’t much in there. Oh well, I could always get more and that’s what I did the next day after Kel n I walked around during the day. I just bought a joint and we decided to go see Bruno because we still didn’t feel well. We smoked and hit up the movies, Bruno was exactly what wee needed, laughter always makes you feel better. After Bruno we snuck into The Hangover, which was another good comedy then we went back to the hostel and tried to get a good night sleep before our flight to London. We woke up the next day, had breakfast, checked out and took a train to the airport. When we landed in London both of us began to feel better, with the exception of still coughing up some flem balls we we’re on the tail end of the flu.

                London was pretty cool but we only spent two nights there. All their museums were free so we hit them up the next day. The British Museum which held an enormous amounts of sculptures and artifacts from the Egyptians to the Greeks and Romans and even from North America, it is a very extensive collections. Then we hit the National Gallery where they have another extensive collection of paintings and artwork. When you go into places this enormous you must have an idea of what you want to see and see it or else you could spend all day there. After that we walked past Big Ben and Parliament where I thought to myself Big Deal, it’s a tower with a clock on it. The only thing I enjoyed about it is that is the roundabout where Chevy Chase got caught up in and kept saying “look kids, Big Ben, Parliament” from National Lampoon’s European Vacation. We then headed to the London Eye, it’s a gigantic ferris wheel which was a descent engineering feat while standing under it but what we came upon when walking up to it completely overshadowed this thing that cast a huge shadow on us. There was an exhibit going on in the building across from the eye and it was Salvador Dali. There where three large statues outside of the building from his surreal influence, an elephant on stilts, a woman’s torso with drawers and the infamous clock.

                I got chills because someone in Scotland had mentioned that his exhibit was in London but I completely forgot until we walked up on these three statues. Now I’m not a huge fan of his…until now, but I had to go in anyway. This one wasn’t free because it was an independent show that traveled but I got in for eight pounds because of my student discount, Kelly opted not to go which I wish she hadn’t. I told her that I don’t know how long I’ll be but I’d meet her out in front in at least two hours. The exhibit was awesome, they didn’t have any of his paintings, it was all sculptures, outfits and illustrations that he had created. The illustrations were from books by surrealists artists and his sculptures were absolutely beautiful. Even though photography was prohibited I still got off a couple shots with my moms 35mm with black and white film, I hope they turn out. At the end of the exhibit was a whole gallery dedicated to his illustrations of the bible, every piece was astounding and imaginative. It was such a great experience for me because I had never seen any of the pieces on display. I’m still trying to take it in, not to mention the Van Gogh Museum and catching an exhibit of Francis Bacon at the Met in NY. I consider myself very lucky and privilege to see these great artists on my journey.

               

                After the Salvador Exhibit, Kel n I walked up the English Channel, popped into the TATE Modern before it closed to see more artwork. We got to see a lot of Abstract Expressionists, more Surrealist work and some more modern works, it was a great day. We made our way back to our hostel via Tower Bridge but couldn’t go to the top because it was closed, but before that we hit up a cheesy museum called The Clink. It is London’s oldest prison, filled with torture devices and stories of who was put in prison and for what. It also had mannequin’s throughout the Museum, it was total cheese but fun to go through. The next day we checked out, left our bags at the hostel and went to the Covent Garden, it’s a big market filled with street entertainer’s. Kel n I got into a bit of an argument on the way there which I cant even remember what it was about and agreed to split up for the day. We did agree on something, to meet back at the hostel at a specific time. We met later after the both us had some me time and left for the train. We got to the airport with enough time to check our bags and get something to eat. It was on to the true unknown, the start of our real journey and the test of ourselves and each other it was our flight to India and neither of us knew what our future would hold.

 

Journal Entry Tuesday August 11^th 2009

                O.K. I’m almost caught up with the present time of our travels. I’m only three weeks behind so that means we got into India on Friday the 17^th of July, Monsoon season is open for business. After we landed we made sure to get a pre-paid taxi. The reason for this is that we have heard horror stories of taxi’s driving people around for longer than the time should be and charging extra. They have also dropped people off in bad neighborhoods and at their friends hotels so they can make more money when you ask them to take you somewhere else. When you get a pre-paid taxi the ticket is purchased within the airport and you bring the ticket to a specific cab waiting outside. When I stepped out of the airport I got a blast of heat to my body that I only experienced while at Las Vegas in June. We found the cab fairly easy but on the way we were asked a handful of times by different men if we needed a cab

                We got into our cab with no A/C and before we got out of the airport ground the cabbie stopped at a little shack and handed a person the ticket we gave to him. Later I found out that the gentleman he showed our ticket was a police officer, this way the cop knows where the cab is going and when he is expected back. This way we cannot be taken for a ride. The ride took a total of two and a half hours, our driver didn’t speak any English and had a hard time finding our hotel. He got out of the cab to ask people where our hotel was. Let me backtrack for a second. Once we got out of the airports grounds I thought myself, “Holy Fucking Shit, were in India..” The first road we turned down was lined with shacks, garbage, people and dogs. The small coming into the cab was that of rotting garbage and human waste that sat in the sun and baked into the air. We could not roll the windows up because it was boiling in the cab already and it would do us no good if we could because the cab driver had his rolled down.

                The scene changed as we got closer to the city, it still seemed a bit run down but being in India for three weeks now we became use to it. We we’re headed for an area called Church Gate and it was close to the Gaters of India and the Taj Hotel, but the cab driver still didn’t know where he was going. Mumbai was mobbed with cars, people, auto rickshaws, motorcycles, mopeds, bikes and an occasional cow standing between two cars. There was no real orderly fashion to how the traffic flowed, there were lines in the road but no one paid attention to them and every vehicle was inches away from the next. People crossed where they could and I can’t count how many times I clenched my fist hand closed my eyes for fear of hitting something or someone. At one point during our ride we handed the cab driver a piece of paper with the name of the hotel and the address, he looked at it upside down, it’s pretty amusing in hindsight but at the moment we were a bit nervous. You have to also keep in mind that people lived this way everyday and we were experiencing this for the first time.

                We eventually found our hotel, Kelly and I checked right into it and did not feel the urge to go anywhere. One, it was a ten hour flight. Two, it was a pretty unnerving two and a half  hour cab ride and three we were a long way from home in a completely alien part of the world. The next day we walked to the train station and reserved tickets for an overnight train to Goa. While we we’re looking for the tourist counter a man walked up to us and asked where we were going. We told him and he said that the train was already booked but we could buy a bus ticket from him. I had no intention of going along with his suggestion but talked to him about it anyway and the whole time Kelly was grabbing my arm and repeating to the man no thanks. He did direct us to the tourist counter though which was on the second floor of the station in an air conditioned room, it felt so nice to feel the cool air on my sweat ridden forehead.

                We reserved our tickets and caught a taxi to the Gates of India, it wasn’t anything that great to observe but I’m sure there’s some real nice history behind why it was there. It did stand in front of the Arabian Sea and we saw our first white person since we landed in Mumbai. It is an eye-opening experience to be a minority, sure I’ve walked through neighborhoods or area’s of Chicago where I was a minority but never a whole city, not to mention a whole country.  I’ve always thought of myself as an equal rights advocate and this experience justified my way of thinking. Almost everyone stared at us, some stared because they haven’t seen to many white people up close but they all seen Rupees (Indian Currency) when they fixed their eyes upon us. We walked around the Taj Hotel which was right across the street from the Gates. It was under heavy security and Kelly had mentioned that it was bombed about a year ago and there was another bombing in Jakarta that week.

                We then walked around to the back of it and down a couple streets to find something to eat. We came upon a nice place Called Leapol’s and had lunch, our first Indian meal and it was very good, the Nan was our favorite and any time we see it on a menu it’s ordered. Most places won’t serve it until after seven pm though. It’s a type of bread that’s grilled with different toppings, butter, garlic, spinach, and different types of cheese. We got the butter and garlic with our meal. After lunch we walked down a street that ran along side the restaurant because it was a market street. I was immediately met by a man who began to wrap a colored yarn around my wrist and said it was for good luck, he then touched my forehead with a red powder that the Hindu sport for religious reasons then he handed me some candy. This all happened within seconds, then he did the same to Kelly he was quick, and even quicker to ask for a donation. I gave him an American dollar which is the equivalent to forty rupees, he then went to Kelly for a donation which she responded, “But I didn’t even want this,” and handed his yarn back. He followed us for a bit, unhappy with my donation and eventually gave up on us. We went back to the Taj, it was about four in the afternoon and our train didn’t leave until eleven, so needless to say we had some time to kill and still pretty intimidated by the hectic city.

                Kelly wanted to go inside because she heard it was very pristine and they had a lot of high end shops inside, she was right. We had to go through metal detectors to get in and they sent our bags through an x-ray machine as well. While inside we found out that Hilary Clinton was staying there while visiting to build better relations with India. We walked around the hotel and checked out the shops, Kelly’s shopping intuition was dead-on, it was very high end and the hotel itself was beautiful. What a juxtaposition to come from the outside where it was hot, hectic and you were always on your guard to a place that was cool, quiet and soothing. We ended up sitting in the lounge trying to decide what to do next and neither of us wanted to go anywhere just yet, so we chilled, literally

                After about twenty minutes Kelly said that she could fall asleep right there, I told her to go ahead and I would stay awake and read or sketch. That didn’t happen though because I dozed off about ten minutes after her. I tried to make it look like I was reading with a book in my lap but it didn’t work. It couldn’t have been to long before someone from the hotel came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder. I came to and he told me that they can’t have people sleeping in the lounge and then he suggested we go to our room. I told him that we had already checked out and we we’re waiting to go to the train station and it dint leave for another six or seven hours. He asked what room number we where in and I then came clean by saying “Oh, no we didn’t check out of this hotel, we checked out of another.” He looked a little confused and said “You mean you’re not staying here.” I nodded and said “Yes that’s correct.” He then told us that we could go into another room and rest but our gig was up and I felt bad for trying to give him the run around so we left.

                We walked back to our hotel around six and asked if we could wait there until ten, they put us in a room with our bags. The room contained a bed, couch and a television. It was very nice of them and we stayed there until ten then jumped in a cab to the train station, we could’ve walked but it was late and we didn’t feel like carrying our bags for a fifteen minute walk through crazy Mumbai. We found our platform after many questions and many back and forth’s to different platforms, got on our train and found our car. We reserved a three A/C car which meant that it contained eight sleepers with air. Hat was key for our fist train ride. We still haven’t gotten used to the heat. The bags on our backs felt about five pounds heavier because of all the moisture in the air. I know five pounds doesn’t sound like much of a problem but we has two packs. Each big bags weighed in anywhere between twenty-five to thirty pounds and our small bags are probably around ten. The bags along with our soggy bones were relieved when we felt that first cool chill run through us as we opened the air-condition train car.

                There was quite a ruckus happening as our train was pulling into the station, nothing dangerous, just a shit load of Indians practically trampling, fighting and pushing each other to get on the train. I thought to myself, ‘Oh no, we gotta fight for our seat. I then realized that none of them were trying to get into our specific car, the sweet Three A/C. How it works is that you have a two A/C car, which means only six beds, three A/C has eight, sleeper car which has eight beds to a car but no A/C. Then there’s the first come first serve basis in the sitting car. That is when the race to the finish begins. Later I was told by Kelly who read about it in a book she was reading called Shantaram. It’s about a an escaped prisoner from Australia who ends up in Mumbai and get himself into all kinds-o-shit there. In the book people are throwing elbows and tripping and pulling off the train just to get a seat first, so I guess you got to be quick. And the craziest thing about it it’s the one time when all bets are off. It doesn’t matter if your old or young these people want their seats and for good reason. The ones who don’t are crammed like sardines across every square inch of the floor. A couple of Aussie’s Amanda and Doug did it and barely got on the train let alone get a seat, but they did manage to squeeze into a seat on the floor where they became very familiar with the eight Indians squeezed in around them for eight hours.

                Our train ride was interesting, only because of the two young French people that we’re in our cab and the fact that they’re pretty tight. There are about forty to fifty beds in the Three A/C car and the bed was about two inches too short for me. Which brought more amusement when I had to climb to the top berth, which also had a domed roof because it was one of the two parallel to the way the train was running. Kelly had a berth on the top as well but her bed was a group of six in our tiny apartment for the night. Since it was the first train ride.

Journal Entry Aug, 2009

                I am in Jaipur India right now eleven-twenty an the A.M. and I am sitting in a nice patio off of our room in a very nice place that Kelly suggested. Its been a pretty crazy week since we left Kerala in old cochin where we helped the sisterhood of Cottallengo. I know I’ve jumped ahead of myself but don’t worry I’ll get back to the train with the French kid’s because they were like cartoon character’s. Also, I know that if you are still reading this you are Bored out of yer’ Gored right now so this is a little trick to keep you interested in the French couple. Anyway back to this morning. I woke up today and Kelly came out of the bathroom, probably on her third dump of the morning. She’ got a good thing going there with regularity I myself are on the three day plan, but every third day it’s like the great Ganesh was praised me with the urge to poop. She comes out of the bathroom, the lights are on because we were getting ready to get some breakfast.

               

 

 

 

 

                I open my eyes as she is getting closer to the bed  I was hit with her pure beauty. I think Kelly is beautiful all the time. When she’ all sweaty and smelly, which here in India, is just about thirteen hours a day….of sweating time she’s pretty much smelly all the time. When she’ sleeping or awake, even when she get’s terrified of a little white bunny and sticks her newly grown fingernail’s into her back. She hasn’t bitten them since we got her because now matter how hard you try there’s always dirt under them. For every reason she is a beautiful human being. But sometimes there are moments when I look at her and I can see her truest and beautiful soul, and this morning was one of those times. It lasted for a total of a few seconds but then she turned to get something in her bag and it was gone. The only thing I could do was call her name and think of something to ask her with hopes of seeing that a little bit longer. She turned to me and responded “What’s up?” she said faster than I could think of a question to ask her and said, “Want to get some breakfast?” Which is something we already decided on. Just like that it was over but it’s still fresh in my mind so I wanted to put it down. Normally I only write those types of things in my journal, that and my dreams and believe me Kelly is board and worried enough from me telling her about my dreams everyday I would not put anyone who is still reading this journal through that.

                So let me just tell you about our crazy week then we’ll get back to the Frencheez. It is now …..what day is it? Oh yea it is Saturday, I only know that because yesterday The Taj Mahal is closed on Friday, and guess where went yesterday? That’s right Agra, to see the Taj Mahal! We didn’t know it was closed when we booked the tickets before leaving Kerala a week from tonight. We had met this guy Herman during our stay in Kochi, he was a very nice man who had helped us book the rest of our train tickets for the duration of our time India, which he did. I met him through the company we we’re volunteering for. He owned a home stay that other volunteers from the group stayed. He got us around and had Kelly and I for tea, we met his family, they were all very nice. But let me finish this last week before we talk about Herman, after the Fren-cheez.

                So we leave Saturday night for Varanasi from Kerala, it’s a fifty-four hour train ride. We got on the train around ten-thirty in the P.M. and got our shit in order. We had already put in thirty hours of train time so we were kinda pros at it. You get in find your car space number than your berth number. After that you get a secure spot for your big bag underneath one of the bottom berths and take a seat. We were pretty lucky because the guys that we shared our apartment for three nights were very nice Indian travelers. It was a father and son who couldn’t be more opposite. The father had a long grey full beard and wore a dhoti (it’s a kind of bottom wrap for the male) and a button up shirt. The son was in Dockers and a polo, he was a doctor and the father looked like he traveled with the Grateful Dead. The father was always smiling and we shared snacks with him. The son was mostly straight faced and usually meditating or reading. Those two sat and slept across from us. Kel n I had the bottom and middle births on one side and they had the others. The top two berths births were occupied with a young man in his mid-twenties and didn’t talk much and the man above the father and son was an older gentleman who ran tours around India and Nepal. We had a conversation about the sights and what to do in Nepal, I don’t remember anything he said to me.

                We lucked out because most guys don’t say anything and blatantly just stare at Kelly, they stare at me too but not for as long. It’s funny the amount of times we get stared at. I’m not talk about the type of staring that you feel out of the corner of your eye, then when you turn to look at the person they look away as soon as your eyes meet. Not the Indians, you can look right back into their eyes and they just keep staring. People riding their bikes or walking past us just lock you into their vision and do not let you out until a couple seconds after they pass you. At first I was thinking’ to myself ’Who the fuck does this bitch think he’s starin’ down?’ Cause back in the states if you stare down someone like that for long enough you better hit first. That sounds like something my buddy Hurley would say back in his day. After awhile I started smiling at them just as we passed, and they smiled back. Whether they we’re speeding by on a bike through the most  hectic traffic or strolling past, most of them smiled and gave you the notorious Indian head wobble. This is something that I’ve been trying to master for the last four weeks here. It’s a side to side up and down motion. It’s kinda confusing when your talkin’ business with them cuz you don’t know if their agreeing or disagreeing on a price.

                The ones that did smile had great big smiles and most of them as a whole had the biggest smiles I’ve ever seen. It was kind of a relief to know that most of them where just curious and don’t really see to many Westerners. It’s funny how cultures clash and mix your brain up, for instance the boys and young men in this country hold hands, walk with their hands over each others shoulders and show affection. If you treid to do that back home with your friend you’d get an ass beaten or constantly berated by your peers. The first time I saw it I thought ‘You fuckin’ homos why the hell don’t you do that in the privacy of your own home.’ I’m kidding, I joke cuz it’s funny. My first thought was how nice it was that India was so nonchalant about homosexuality. A couple days into the trip I found out that it was just a sign of affection and It took me about a week after that to grasp that concept when I witnessed it. But now all I do is question my culture.

                I’m not disagreeing with it, I just have question’s about it. Shit I like showing affection toward my friends and family, it’s usually done with a really good and funny insult, the funnier the insult the more  love is shown. I’m sure there are people who don’t agree with the tough love mentality but in my minute world of the world, on the South Side of Chicago it’s  considered a good practice of faith. Sorry about that little rant and I’ll try to keep those train of thoughts to my journal. But after clocking in over hundred miles of accumulated train time in India as of yesterday, seventy-three of those being this past week. My thoughts can’t help but to get a little derailed and if I‘m on a roll I just gotta keep on typing or I‘ll lose that train. O.K. I’m dunz with the punz. We get into Varanasi on Tuesday at about five-forty in the morning and right when we get off the train there is a taxi driver asking us where we need to go. Kelly told him and we looked up the price of that area at the pre-paid taxi stand. It wasn’t open yet but they had the rates posted. HE said he knew where the place was that we had reservations at and we followed him to his car. On the way we had to step up on to a concrete platform in the middle of the parking lot.

                It was about two or three feet up and it took a bit to step up with our bags after not moving your legs often for about two and a half days. Coming off the platform was a little trickier, I stepped down and turned around to help Kel down. I think she misjudged the height, plus it was still dusk and she came down on one foot hard and her bags set her in motion. I had only one of her hands and she almost took a knee but she stopped midway down and straightened herself back up, my powerful amazon women escaped from a major embarrassing scene and possible injury. So we drive for about fifteen minutes past the early morning hustle and bustle of the markets outside of the train station and then on through the maddening traffic. It was about a quarter to six in the morning and the place was jumpin’. He pulls the car over and tells us we have to walk about five minutes to the hotel. We grabbed our bags and the taxi driver leads the way. As Kelly said later that day, the walk from the cab to the hotel was surreal. We where still a little groggy, that and the deep purple glow of the sky where the day met the night added to the effect.

                We walked down very narrow roads, trying to avoid piles of dung and squeezing past cows. Through many turns and about four minutes into the walk which seemed like twenty I hear Kelly give out one of her alert sounds. She’s got several and I’ve come to know them well. This wasn’t a frantic, high pitched, short noise, like when she realizes a butterfly is too close to her and jumps out of her seat. This was a longer and slower moan, like your anticipating something bad to happen. I turned around to look at her and noticed she was looking up, I turned around to look up and find a whole shit load of monkeys walking across the edges of the buildings maybe on or two stories above. They were walking in the same direction as we were and they were on both sides of us. It was like  something out of a western, when the American Indians would walk above the cliffs of a narrow valley while the white man walked blind into their trap. We we’re the white man, literally and figuratively except we knew they were there and they didn’t have an array of arrows pointing at us.

                I heard Kelly’s voice, closer to me this time in a now worried manner, “Where is this place?” Just then we took a left and about fifteen feet down we walked into the hotel. We greeted the older man at the counter who looked as if he had just woken up. Kelly mentioned our reservation and he said he didn’t have one but he had rooms to look at. We checked them out and took one with A/C and a T.V. for six-hundred Rupees a night which equals to about twelve American. He explained that the room would be ready in a bout twenty minutes and suggested that we could go upstairs on the rooftop, have some chai and wait. We took him up on the offer and left our big bags in a storage room because the roof was four stories up with no elevator. When we got up there I realized why the monkeys were walking in our direction. The tree that stood next to our hotel had some really nice berries growing on it. Part of the canopy of the tree hung over the rooftop so if you walked up top the edge of it you were practically in the tree itself. I was overcome with excitement and couldn’t wipe the big grin off my face. It was so cool for me but for Kelly, not so much.

 

 

 

                As we sat at the furthest table from the monkey tree we enjoyed our delicious chai and very happy to be somewhere other than a train. I would have said somewhere relaxing but about half way through our chai something happened so terrifying that words cannot describe. Kelly noticed it first and jumped in her seat with fright, just as a turned around it was coming around the corner and at us. It was the cutest little bunny rabbit all white with a little cute nose and big pointy ears. Kelly pulled her feet up and clenched her hands on the arm chair, I couldn’t help but to be amused and start to laugh. “Baullz” I said calmly, “It’s a domesticated bunny, what’s the matter.” She only responded in short irritated moans while the bunny inspected under our tables and chairs. I convinced her to just put her feet down and that it would bother her. This lasted all but a minute until the bunny brushed up against her. She shot up out of her seat like there was a sale at H&M. She took two steps away from the table and asked if we could leave.

                The bunny hopped over to her in all his cuteness and she let out a little shriek, the the little cuty started circling her. He just kept going around her in circles and became more frantic as she shuffled closer to me. “Can we go?” she asked in a very demanding manner and I could tell she was on the verge of tears. My insensitive and non-relating ass couldn’t help but to laugh, not at her so much but the absurdity of the situation. She then told her that I was suppose to protect her. She was right because I told her before we started this trip that I will do everything in my power to make sure nothing happens to her, I know it’s not a lot of power when you think of it but she bought it. I was helpless against the fierce and vicious beast so we escaped down the stairwell to our room. She eventually came to terms with the little guy and they became the best of friends.

                After our nap I went out on our balcony to check out and try to photograph the monkeys. Our room was on the corner on the side of the building that faces the monkey tree and it was on the third floor. As I stepped out  I noticed they were all still in the tree and walking across rooftops across from us, it seemed like they ran the joint. I noticed one monkey approaching our building from the other end. All of the buildings are either joined to the other or stand a foot apart so these guys have no problem getting around. It peaked it’s head around the corner looking at me some forty feet back. In one quick and easy leap it jumped across to the railing on the balcony of our building and began a slow walk toward me. It stopped as it scaled by an air conditioner and put his hand underneath it for water. It took  a drink or two and then continued toward me, balancing himself with ease on the top of the balcony. I got some good pictures of it on its way over and when it got two feet from me it turned left and jumped onto the other buildings rooftop.

I ran into the room jumping around like a kid explaining the story to Kelly. It was awesome!!!!

                Silk Shop Adventure          

                We got up the next morning around four-forty-five in the morn’ to take a boat trip on the Ganges. It was KelnI, let’s just make “KelnI” a new word because I feel that I type it so much the it’s faster and easier to skip the spacebar and a couple other letters, It means “Kel and I.” But I’m sure you’ve already figured that out. We had to meet in the reception area with other people from the hotel at five-fifteen so I got up a half hour earlier for the monkey show on the roof. Unfortunately it was too early and there was no show, so I went downstairs to the lobby to wake up Montoo, I think that’s how it is spelled. He was the cook of the place and he asked me to wake him so he could make chai for everyone. He was a nice man and someone whom I talked to a lot after lunches or dinners or while I watched him chase off monkeys from the roof with a bamboo stick and a slingshot. He lived in a village about two hours outside of Calcutta, A hundred and forty eight Kilometers, whatever that means. I felt like pulling out a little jerkey boys reference when he referred to Kilometers.  “Kilometers? What the Fuck, Miles Montoo! Miles.

                His wife and two daughters still live there and he is sending money home to them while working in Varanasi. It’s about a sixteen hour train ride there and he gets to see them  two or three times a year. It’s seems to be the theme because I hear of families being separated to work in different city’s thousands of miles away, or some number of Kilometers. Or their all full of complete shit and are playing the sympathy card for sympathy money. Montoo didn’t do that the whole time we were there and we had some pretty good chats on the roof. He was sleeping on a thin mat in the middle of the floor of the reception area, so I didn’t have to look to hard to find out where he was. He told me the reception room but I thought he was talking about a room in the reception area, not literally the reception area.

                Everyone met up in the reception at a quarter after and Montoo brought down the chai. There were nine Spaniards and us two lowly Americans. I noticed them in the lobby the day before when I smiled and said hi to them. There was really no responds, maybe a couple head nods. Whatevz. So Montoo leads us down through the narrow alleys. I call it the shit, moped, cow, water puddles that look as if Jabba-the-Hut  wouldn’t drink, dodging game. Walking out of the tight street into the vast light blue sky that hung above the Ganges was a very dramatic switch in atmosphere and I had to take note of it. I did just that, I stopped and took in the Burning Ghats that ran up and down the river. The way the sun was just about to break through into the sky and revealed such a spectacular color to an already colorful city, the amount of people out, starting their bathing rituals in the river or getting ready for the cremation of body’s to begin at their Ghat. Then I said to myself under my breath, “Holy fuckin’ shit, Im in India!”.

                We all jumped into a rowboat and went a little but up the river, the guy rowing the boat was probably in his late twenties but looked forty. He was small but he looked like a badass. It was a very spiritual place but I didn’t feel anything spiritual. I was still completely enthralled with everything that was going on during that two hour ride up and down the river. My thoughts were to occupied with what I was witnessing. They were burning the dead on the rivers edge and dumping their ashes in the river. We saw a dead body floating against one of the hundreds of boats docked all along the river. This was about half way through the trip just before we turned around and headed back up river. It was at the Manikarniea Ghat and we weren’t allowed to take pictures at this specific Ghat. When asked about the floating body in the water the little badass told us that if they, got bit by a cobra, where pregnant , had leprosy and rattled off acouple other diseases. It was pretty shocking but not as shocking as seeing people bath in the same river some twenty fifty feet away. The river was filthy, it had all kinds of garbage, bodily decay and waste but the people just jumped right in and started cleansing themselves.

                One of the Spanish girls started to question the culture and how they can just dump a body into the river because of the reasons given. She did it in a criticizing tone and the captain just kept rowing. I wanted to punch her in hear neck. Then as the captain starts to turn around she asked him if he could go twenty feet down the river so she could get a better picture of a sunken temple. He did so but she doesn’t realize that twenty feet down the river is forty back up. I really wanted to punch her in the neck after that. After the boat ride one of the Spaniards and I started talking on the way back, he was traveling with everyone except for the girl who was annoying and her boyfriend. It was just coincidental they were Spanish. David, the Spaniard and his group were nice. I thought I used to be good at first impressions but this trip has proven me wrong, or I’m just not use to the different cultures we come across during our travels. We all had breakfast on the roof of our hotel and KenI took a nap before we went out on the next tour of the day which started at ten-thirty A.M. The Temple tour. The nine of us spilt up in rickshaw’s on a two hour tour of four  temples around the city.

                The guy at the hotel that sold us the tour packeage for four-hundred-rupees each told us that he would be going with us on both tours. He wasn’t on the boat and he didn’t get in the rickshaws with us. The temples where elaborate and beautiful in their own way but I hadn’t the first clue about the Hindi religion or their rituals so after the second Temple I was ready to go. That just happened to be the monkey temple, it has a Hindu name but I forgot it, but there are a shit ton of monkey’s runnin’ around it. Pretty cool shit! We got back to are place around one-thirty in the P.M. and had lunch, Speaking in broken English and Spanish to communicate with our new, short-term travel friends. After lunch KelnI went to our room to sleep. Kel got into he nappin’ clothes and jumped right into bed. I went out onto the balcony to see more of the monkey show hoping that a few of them were still jumpin’ and swingin’ on the tree. It was better than that. One of them was about twenty-feet away from me sitting underneath my neighbors A/C unit.

                I had to bend down to see what the mischievous monkey was up too because the unit blocked my full vision of the monkey. She was already looking in my direction and the minute our eyes met she jumped on top of the A/C unit and chilled for a second. I had my mom’s trusty ol’ 35mm camera with me and started adjusting the settings before she started on move again. Unless their relaxing up in a tree they don’t seem to stay in one spot for long when people are around. I managed to get the focus but I don’t think the light meter was right. We’ll see when I go back home and develop them. I got a shot off and she jumped on the rail of the balcony and started coming toward me. It was a quick jump and set me back in may door frame with the door closed. It’s always closed or those sneaky bastards will come in the room, steal shit and hold it ransom for food. It was walking my way with a little more determination then the one from the day before so I kind of put my hand on the door behind me. When it got about a foot from me it hissed and opened its mouth revealing some pretty sharp encisers. I pushed open the door behind me and jumped backwards through it flailing my camera by the strap. Luckily it wasn’t a digital or that thing because their lighter and have much shorter straps, the thing would’ve laughed at me. I pulled the camera in and closed the door simultaneously while she swung her arms in my direction, still hissing.

                I turned around with my adrenaline pumping to tell Kelly what just happened and she’s out in the hallway closing the room to our door, potentially locking me in if the monkey managed to get in from off the veranda. She didn’t close it all the way though because she was standing in the hallway in her underwear and a tank top. Im not talkin’ bout the big ol’ granny pantees during shark week, I’m talkin’ the smaller ones. I opened the door all the way laughing and letting her run back into the room before she got spotted giving a free lingerie show. Her heart didn’t stop beating hard for about forty-minutes, mine took about an hour, but that’s the life of a photojournalist, roughing it in the thick of India. O.K. sorry that was my alter ego who goes by the name of Dash Danzabaar, he immersed after I got my first shave about a week into India. I went into a shack of a barbershop with two chairs. Asked him for a shave and he took everything off but the mustache, it’s a hot fashion here and all the guy’s are doing it. Later that night with the help of Kelly we came up with Dash Riprock, the renegade photojournalist that’ll risk life and limp to get the shot he needs. The next week in Kerala my man Herman told me that there was a famous actor named Dan Danzabaar. Right then and there my alter ego, Dash Danzabaar was complete.

                That day Kelly found out while reading through one of the many guide books that she studies and reads with intent and rigor tat the Taj-Mahal was close on Fridays. Are train ticket to Agra left the next day, Thursday night and got us into Agra and five in the morning on Friday. It was the first bump in our travels and I wouldn’t even call it that. I would call it a “speed cushion” it’s a term used in Seattle when referring what we call in Chicago a speed bump. In Chicago their not bumps at all,  they are axle breakers but in Seattle they really are almost like cushions. Very low to the ground and very rounded and they actually make your car go faster. Anyway it sucked but it wasn’t that big of a deal. We spent an hour weighing our options and decided to just stick with our ticket. Even thought here is nothing to do in Agra except see the Taj. So we caught our train the next night and it was the same type of sleeper cars we’ve been on with eight berths but the only small difference with this one was it did not have A/C.

                IT was an overnight train so we figured we could just sleep through it. As we walked into our car and made it to our stall of beds the was a young gentleman sitting on one of our beds. We had the two against the window that ran parrallel to the aisle. It was nice to have because we had the bottom berth to ourselves to sit on and play cards if we wanted. Or we could go up and lay down if we wanted without having to shift around four other people to do it. So this young guy is sitting on our bottom berth. The numbers in our train slot did not make sense so needless to say there was some confusion. We just left our bags on the the berths until we figured it out and he continued to sit in our bottom berth looking out the window. Kelly sat down next to him as to stake her claim in our spot and put her bags nest to here forcing him to make some room. It was a good strategy, one that I wouldn’t have thought of. HE was with a girl and her and I sat across from each other in the three tiered , six bed section while Kelly and the other deushe pipe sat to our left.

               

 

                I figures the train conductor would come soon enough and sort it out so I just chilled. The mean there were two guys on my right, next to the other window. One was sitting next to me and the other sat facing him next to the girl. The guy next to me would not stop staring at Kelly, at first it was short stares then it turned into full on long stares. I would lean forward very slowly blocking his vision of her. The whole time I was staring dead into his eyes. They didn’t budge all he did was move his head to the right to keep her in is view. I thought to myself, ‘This fuckin guy’ and then he looked at me. He stared at me for a couple seconds, not evading his eyes and it was very uncomfortable for me to continue my stare. Again, customs are different but he was crossing the customs in my opinion. It happened a couple more times and then I think he got tired of having to look at me when I blocked his view.  I got up and went in between the cars because there was a better breeze coming through. In the non A/C cars they leave one of the doors open between each car to circulate the air.

                I stood close to the door and watched India’s landscape, villages, animals and people just fly by. II hung out there for about ten minutes hoping that Chochwad would get the message and move to the other berth. The reason I thought this, was because before I got up Kelly had gone through our tickets and tried show him that their tickets had “upper berth” typed on the ticket. The girl agreed and the guy didn’t move, I think he was still trying to deny the seating arrangements. When I came back and noticed he hadn’t moved I pulled my bag down from the top berth and said “Did we figure out the whole seating arrangement because I want to but my bag in it’s place. The guy didn’t say a word and the girl said “Yea, you two have those ones” pointing toward Kelly “And we have these two” pointing to the top two berths above her. SO I pushed his sandels to the side and slid my bag underneath where he was sitting, I stood up thinking he would move and he didn’t. Kelly then says “So, you guys gonna switch spots er?” The guy finally moved, and I sat next to Kelly and watched the sun go down over India, through our own private view.

 

Journal entry Tuesday, August 25^th 2009

               

                I think I got taken for a ride today but I hope I’m wrong, it is very hard to build any kind of trust in India but I have such a big expectation of good in people that it’s hard for me not to get taken advantage of, good thing Kelly is with me or I’d be hung out to dry by now. Let me get back to the train because I’m almost finished with our crazy week.  We slept at twenty minute intervals due to sticking to the bed, new train passengers confused about the seating arrangement in our apt or shooing fly’s off of our face. Nothing prepared me for the heat inside that train car. I grew up in a house with no A/C, when I was about twelve my older sister Ronie, my younger sister Katie and I had a choice between cable or A/C, picked cable. Katie was only about six or seven at the time so her opinion didn’t count but her vote did. I continued to sweat it out on those hot Chicago summer nights because MTV just started to come up and I couldn’t miss the latest Micheal Jackson video. Mine and Ronie’s rooms were in the attic so it was a little more of a sacrifice. The train made my bedroom on eighty-fifth feel like a cooler. There are only bars over the windows so not only get the fly’s you also got the many distinct smells that make up par of what India represents. While we were stopped everyone turned their lights off, it was the only defense we had against the endless amounts of bugs and fly’s attracted to it We arrived in Agra at five in the morning, if the Tal was open we would’ve got to it just in time for the sunrise. That and sunset are supposed to be very good times to see the Taj because it reflects so many different colors from the sky. But instead we took a tuk-tuk to another train station and try to get a train right out of Agra to Jaipur.

                We couldn’t do it because we booked the tickets online through my man Herman’s booking agent. We we’re stuck in the city for twelve hours and many people told us there’s nothing to do in Agra but see the Taj, they told us that the city was rough and poor. So there we were with our bags weighing down our body’s feeling a little lost. We ended up going with this fast talking stylish young Indian because he wouldn’t let us alone until we agreed to go with him. He took us to a place that we could’ve stayed at for the day, it would’ve cost us eight-hundred Rupee and the place wasn’t that nice. So we went to a cheaper one for three hundred and it was even shittier, but we took it any way. It had an internet café below it, that was the main sellin point. We went to our rooms and napped for a few hours. After that we hit up the internet café that consisted of three computers in the back of the owners shop. You had to walk through isles of miscellaneous crap and then a left turn through a very dark corrider into the small room of three computers. The power kept going out so after ten minutes we left. We told the owner wed be back and got something to eat. After our meal we hit it up one more time, Kelly’s computer didn’t work so she left and I stayed on for an hour until we had to leave. On our way out to the train station the owner said that I owed him money for the first visit. Fifteen Rupees was the cost, it wasn’t much but I told him no because it didn’t even work. He repeated himself a couple times and we just jumped in the tuk-tuk and off we went.

                Our train was on time and it had air conditioning. It was a chair car, they were so comfortable and cold. We had a nice conversation with a young man returning to India for the summer. He was currently a student at Philedelphia and was visiting his homeland for the summer. It was a pleasant train ride through and through. We got into Jaipur about eleven at night and found a pretty honest tuk-tuk driver to take us the Jaipur Inn. He only tried to talk us into going somewhere else and not just take there. He also charged us twenty-five Rupees where other tuk-tuk drivers would’ve tried to charge us sixty. He took us to the Jaipur Inn, Kelly went inside and checked it out and I stayed with the tuk-tuk just in case she didn’t like it. She came out with a big smile and I slapped thirty Rupees in the drivers hand, got his number and checked in. We slept very well that night and it had been the nicest place we’ve stayed in the last four weeks. That’s when I woke up the next day, Saturday morning and caught a glimpse of Kelly’s peaceful and true beauty. I then went out to the back patio of our room and began to write about that moment and explain that our week might have added to the peace in her that morning..