An email from my sister

Seastars, Seastars, Seastars............

Oh God! Americans targeted by terrorists in India! Where is Mumbai? Where are the Seastars? I know they are not staying in the 5 star hotels, so..........not too worried........but, what if?

What would I do if you both were kidnapped by terrorists, catch the next plane to where? But, I Go, Now!!!!! (bringing Doug & Christine with me, of coarse!) ...... Lilly.......stay!............ We sniff you out, rescue you both (heroically, of coarse!), all of us returning safely to Maui against all odds, only to be deluged by book and movie offers from all the networks, we play the game, but in the end, Oprah wins! (of coarse), endorsing the book and movie deal to come, and none of us, or any one any of us know and love, will ever have to work another day for the rest of their lives! This could be BIG!

Oh yeah, I should be worried..............where are the Seastars? I better let them know how worried I am ..........Oh, I have some new emails from the Seastars! Your both safe! Thank God!(and keep on working Joan!).

Please.....Please.........Please.........Be safe, or come home Damn it!

Love you both Seastar

Camel taxi - the only way to travel

I had a great time at the camel festival in Pushkar. Not only were we in the midst of thousands of camels and camel traders we had our own personal taxi complete with a camel, a covered cart and camel driver. Dinesh, our camel driver was 24 years old, he had been married four years, had a two year old son and was totally illiterate. We knew he couldn’t read English but we were surprised when he couldn’t read the Hindi menu board posted on the wall of his favorite chai stand. When asked what it said he pointed to the board and read the numbers. We unknowingly laughed and said we too could read the numbers, but what does it say? His look and casual shrug made it clear he couldn’t read Hindi any better than we could.

Even though Dinesh has never had any formal schooling, in the small village of Pushkar he is a rich man. He lives in his own house, drives his own camel taxi and speaks English just well enough to get his point across, most of the time. Dinesh learned his broken English from tourist, just like us, who pass through Pushkar. “Me talk you Mama” was how he started the conversation every morning and for hours as we rode in his camel cart we helped him with his English and he taught us Hindi. I am proud to say I can now count from 1 to 5 and say ‘I don’t want any, please leave me alone, good food, and I would like one bottle of water please.’ Not enough to have an in depth conversation but enough to open the door to a conversation in broken English.

Dinesh was not only our camel driver but also our tour guide. He showed us around several of the 400 temples in the small village of Pushkar, took us to watched people bathe (fully clothed) at the ghats of the holy lake, helped Patti buy shoes at the market and answered all our questions about the food and festivities of the fair. So far eating in India has been based on a combination of guess work (is it safe or not), faith and do we have a good bathroom that night. Most of the time we don’t know what we are eating or if we’ll be expelling it in an unpleasant manner later that night. Since Dinesh was there to encourage us to try what the street vender was selling “Mama, try sweet, good” we ate many foods that we never would have tried.

The camel festival was has been the highlight of the trip so far but the real joy was the time we spent with Dinesh and the friendship that developed. We left Pushkar weeks ago and Dinesh still calls every couple of days. He starts with the conversation with “Hey Mama, me talk you” and friendship continues.

Shifting Focal Point

Janet and I draw a crowd wherever we are and especially if we are stationary for more than a minute. Groups of men and children will gather and just openly stare at us. Sense of space equals ‘up close and personal’ with not a quarter inch to spare. Self-conscious? Forget it, when we are out we are public property. I have really gotten good at sketching as the crowd swarms around me sometimes totally obscuring the subject matter. Actually it is also a great way to stop the beggars and touts from bugging us, they suddenly become fans. Then it is us who are working them! I sketch and Janet photographs the gathering crowd. The whole scene becomes more than a snapshot but a story.

One morning in our travels we were early for a train and I decided to brave it and started sketching the staring faces. Slowly the energy shifted and the crowd of children and men soon quadrupled for their portraits. The focal point shifted and once again the ‘us and them’ barrier was broken. The real bonus was seeing how each person beamed with pride over feeling so important and special. Me? I felt like I was having a one woman show surrounded by adoring fans. Fantastic!

We're Safe

We woke this morning to the newscast of the terrorist actions in Mumbai. Tragic news and it is still in process as I type. We just wanted everyone to know that we flew through Mumbai 2 days ago and are safe here in Fort Cochin, Kerala.

Mumbai, Dubai and Shanghai are the major corporate hubs of the world at present and the Oberoi Hotel in Mumbai houses many corporate headquarters besides being a 5 star Hotel. It was a highly organized attack but no clear news yet as to who did it or what they were targeting.

An Offer We Could Refuse

Besides being a camel fair Pushkar had all the trappings of a county fair with food, Ferris wheels, souvenir stalls as well as contests and shows. We were disappointed in the turban tying contest because it was tourists not Indians competing in the contest. The moustache contest however was almost uniquely Indian with only one sorry looking Australian mustache in the crowd. All were stunning but the winner unraveled his 3 meter moustache to take the prize. Dinesh our camel driver and guide was quite proud because the Moustache Man was also his uncle.

On our last night at Pushkar we were surprised to find that the Moustache Man was joining us when Dinesh came to pick us up. Not being proficient in english Moustache Man pulled out a photo album from his satchel and handed it to us. It was of course filled with pictures of him winning every conceivable moustache contest in Rajasthan over the last several decades. Additionally there were pictures of him lifting several children with his moustache as well as pictures of him towing cars and tractors tied to his moustache. We couldn’t quite figure out why he wanted to show us this but hey, he was so proud of himself and this is India.

As we were heading home at the end of the evening with Moustache Man still in tow he started talking. “Moustache you business America very good yes?” When he handed me a Xerox copy of his new passport and told me to keep it both Janet and I started to really wonder what he was being so persistent about. Very nice I said, not knowing what else to say and wishing our camel would pick up the pace. “Moustache business America very good you yes? “ You? “No,you!” Us? “Yes,you!” You want us to have a moustache business in America with you? “YES!” Moustache Man is now practically beside himself with joy. We are totally dumbstruck. Is he serious? No, he can’t be. I think he is, what do we do? Just keep smiling and give him back his Xerox. ‘So sorry, we think you need another man to make business in America, maybe from Texas, George Bush no have moustache but he need new job.’

Relationships

From the second I walked out of the airport I felt as if I had walked into a 1950’s foreign film complete with heavy fog (aka pollution) old cars, men in turbans, beggars with missing or twisted body parts, cows, shit, and trash everywhere. The intensity of the noise was, and still is unbelievable; a never ending cacophony of horns from every bus, car, tuk-tuk motorcycle and bicycle mixed with blaring music and people yelling. The smell of diesel fumes, burning cow dung, toxic chemicals, swirling dust, shit and urine completes the chaotic picture.




The entire trip has been a mixture of great fascination and fatigue। There is so much of everything that it’s a challenge to just walk down the street, literally। There are very few sidewalks here so we walk in the street forced in to a never ending game of chicken with all the insane drivers who pay no attention to lane lines let alone pedestrians. Size counts on India streets and pedestrians are but a small blip on the size chart.

Everywhere I turn someone is trying desperately to sell me something. “Madame, Madame, come look. Looking is free Madame. Special price for you Madame”. I hear this over and over non stop all day as we pass any shop, cart and blanket on the ground. The tuk-tuk drivers and touts are equally as determined to get our business. “Only 10 rupees for city tour” but the tour is a tour of the same shops we pass as we walk through any town. The beggars take a more direct approach latching on to my arm and making gestures of eating to let me know they are hungry. At first I found it heart wrenching but when I saw that it was a business like all the rest my feeling faded.

There are many things I don’t understand here but shitting in public tops the list। It’s bad enough to have to dodge the cow, goat and pig shit but there is human shit everywhere. People shit on the road, on the railway platform, in any corner and on any ledge or flat space available. Some shit facing the road so they can wave as people pass by, some shit with friends, while others shit alone with their back turned to create some semblance of privacy. We were at an open air restaurant eating one afternoon when a man took a shit across the narrow dirt road directly in front of the restaurant. Not only did he shit in front of everyone, he then walked into the restaurant and ate with his family. I just don’t get it.

One thing I do understand is that the connections I have made with people here make all the noise, smells, shit, filth, hard beds and hard sell worth it। Recently we have been staying at a home-stay where the only daughter is getting married in a few days. Pragya has freely shared with us her excitement and fear about her upcoming marriage to a man she has met only five time and never alone. Last night her family celebrated at her fiancés house while Pragya stays home because it is improper for her to socialize with her fiancé before they are married. Today Prayga’s hands and feet were decorated with henna for ‘women dancing’ party night and the wedding party tomorrow night. We have been invited to both celebrations but we are leaving the day of her wedding. Tonight we will don our Punjabis, eat authentic India food and celebrate with 1000 of her closest friends. What a gift.

Pushkar Portraits

Camels as far as the eye could see a veritable living national geographic photograph. If you go to India for nothing else go for the Pushkar Camel Fair it’s a phenomena from another era. Riding on the back of our camel cart it was almost impossible to believe we were still in the 21st century except for our digital camera clicking away. Turbaned men with their herds of camels and horses were negotiating deals with each other while the women collected camel dung for fires. The real action all happens in the first 3 days, once the deals are struck the camels and new owners start leaving.