Struttin' in me shalwar

I decided yesterday to throw on the ol' shalwar kameez, which some of you might remember is the pyjama-like clothing that I got in Pakistan. So there I was strutting along the beach front with my tails flowing in the afternoon breeze... you should have seen the respect I was getting. "Hey man, cool shalwar", "nice clothes buddy"... and no-one tried to flog me anything (this is unheard of) as I was clearly a soul brother just goin' for a walk! There were a couple of Muslims boppin' around as well, and they were chuffed to pieces when they saw me. It was Friday afternoon and they were all done up in their shalwars as well for prayers. One of them saw me coming and tried to trick me to see if I was the 'real deal'... He mumbled asalaam aleikum as I passed (the arabic greeting common to all Muslim countries) and I rolled back at him with the response ma aleikum a-salaam.... he broke out in an ear to ear grin, it was deadly!

So apart from getting down and jiggy with my Muslim brothers, there ain't too much else goin' on. I'm in a beautiful beach resort called Varkala, halfway between Trivandurum and Quillon in the state of Kerala on the West Coast of India by the Arabian Sea. The village is set up along a cliff edge here with a nice beach about a hundred feet below us. It's pretty touristy and there are lots of heads here, but it's nice and relaxed.

We had a nice few days in Pondicherry, but Helen was sick so we didn't get up to too much. Spent most of the time reading my book and walking around the French quarter. Then we jumped on a sleeper crossing the Southern tip of the country to the West coast. The trains here are pretty good. It's far from the chaos and mayhem that used to reign (as portrayed in films like Ghandi) with people hangin' out of the rafters and sitting on the roof etc. There are a plethora of different classes, starting with first class (two berth private compartments with AC), to second class two-tiered compartments with AC, to second class three tiered compartments with AC, to second class three-tiered compartments without AC to third class wooden seats.

I've always gone for the second class three tiered compartments without AC, this is sleeper class and it's what the vast majority of people travel in. You have open carriages with eight 'compartments' (all open, no doors or anything). Each compartment has seating for nine people, three facing backwards, three facing forwards and three facing across the train on the other side of the walkway. At night time, you can pull down beds so that there are three beds on each wall, lower, middle and upper berths. I always try to go for the upper berth, because it doesn't get folded away so you can always just lie down on it (it's also quite comfy to sit on), you're higher up and therefore more out of the action and you've got the fans right above you so you tend to be cooler. For some reason, Indian's don't really like this berth so it's quite easy to get one. The downside is that you have to look at cockroaches crawling across the ceiling as you prepare for sleep.

The journey's have always been very pleasant as well. Usually you get a night train so that you can spend the vast majority of the journey sleeping. You have to bail on to the train pretty quickly to make sure that you get to store your bags under the seats or else they're just knockin' around the aisles. But once you're installed, everyone's always really friendly, happy to chat away with you and inviting you for teas from one of the hundreds of chai sellers who roll through the carraiges.

It's been raining heavily here this morning, but it's stopping now and the sun is coming out so I'm off down the beach. Peace out.

C.


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Sleepers Galore

I finished a book today called "Three Cups of Tea"... It's a lovely read about an American guy who founds girls schools in Pakistan. Inspiring stuff. Now I've moved on to "Shantaram" about an Aussie ex-con who makes a new live for himself in Mumbai. I'm only into Chapter 2, but it's good reading so far...

I sat out in the sun this morning, starting the first few chapters of the new book and got sunburned on my shoulders. First time I've got sunburned since i came away. It's not too bad but I've lathered myself up in Aloe Vera hoping to ward off any nasty developments. Apart from that my body is holding up well. I've got occasional bouts of stomach problems, but I'm taking probiotic supplements and keeping it in play.

The food is good here in India... I mean really really good. There's a snowball's chance in hell of me losing any weight here. Everyone was telling me before I came out that the weight would 'fall off me' in India, but jesus, I'm eating rings around me. And it's all so rich! I'm a big fan of masala with chicken or fish tikka, samosa's by the bucketful, aloo gobi (cauliflower and spud), chaat (a kind of indian salad with chickpeas, coriander, spring onions, chillis and a million billion other things), raita (cucumber and veg mixed with yoghurt)... the list goes on. Since hitting the Eastern coast, I've been horsing into the seafood, huge grilled tuna's with lemon rice, kingfisher curry etc.

So I think that the last time I did a decent post would have been Amritsar, in the northwest of the country, after crossing the Pakistani border. I have since traversed the whole of india, passed down the Eastern coast and am almost at the southern tip of the Subcontinent.

After staying a night with the pilgrims in Amritsar, I hopped on an overnight train to Delhi and met up with Helen, a friend of mine I'll be traveling with until Christmas. Six hours after my arrival in Delhi, I was straight back onto the Rajastani Express, an 18 hour sleeper to Kolkata (Calcutta), the city of Joy in West Bengal, where we met up with Emily, a good friend of Helen's from back home. Emily is volunteering for the Hope Foundation, a very professional and efficient Irish charity working with Kolkata's street children, and Helen had previously helped to organise fundraising for an affiliated charity back in Ireland. So we were given some really interesting tours of Kolkata's slums and shown projects ranging from slum schools, orphanages, addiction centres to women's vocational centres. Emily and her friend Niamh also introduced us to Kolkata's groovy social scene. Far from being the cesspool that we are led to believe from abroad (the black hole et al.). Kolkata is actually India's cultural and chill-out hub. We went to Bengali music nights, had a few slap up Bengali meals (de-fuckin'-licious), had a few nights out on the booze and even went to a local party. Basically we had an absolute ball of a week and I can't wait to make it back there in the New Year. It was a fantastic introduction to India and Emily and Niamh did a sterling job of giving us the 360.

Since then we hopped on another sleeper train down to Puri, a seaside city in the state of Odissa, where we spent a few nights in the beautiful Z Hotel, and saw some slick temples (it's all about the temples in India). Then another sleeper to Chennai, for a quick night on the booze in a big city, and finally a bus to Malalapuram, where we are now, a sleepy little village between Pondi and Chennai, in the state of Tamil Nadu.

And hey presto, it's time for me to fill my gut with some fine seafood (we're thinking of splashing out on a lobster one of these nights, although at ten euros, I'm not sure we can afford it)... so I'll be smelling you all later.

Peace out from Tamil Nadu...

C.

PS: Pics from Kolkata and a map of India below











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almost there...

...Must ...update ...blog...
...Must ...do ... it ... for ... the... people....
argh fuck it, I couldn't be arsed... I've eaten too much fish and my belly is full and I need to lie down!

Pics from the Golden Temple

And here very quickly some pics from Atari, the border crossing to India and also of the Golden Temple in Amritsar.

Final Photos of Pakistan

Just a quickie to post some photos.... I'm in Calcutta with Helen now, but here are some photos of what we got up to in the north of Pakistan... i.e. trekking of the Karakoram Highway

Namaste from Amritsar

My entrance into India has been quite exceptional. The first port of call was the aforementioned border ceremony. The Pakistani side of the border was mobbed by Pakistan Hindu pilgrims (apparantly 70% of the people travelling in India at any one time are pilgrims), but luckily a women adopted me and ushered me past everyone to the top of the queue. This is about standard in Pakistan where I have always been treated like some kind of royalty. Someone had warned me previously that the difference between the Indian and Pakistani border ceremonies is that you're not treated like royalty on the Indian side. Nothing could have been truer: As soon as I had passed through Indian customs and immigration, past the sign that said: 'Welcome to India, the largest democracy in the world', I tried my best to resist being thrown out into the crowds and tried to reserve myself a little seat before they let in the masses. However, I was no different to anyone else, and was duly ejected out into the waiting throngs.

At first, I wasn't too happy about this, but then I slowly began to realise that this is what makes India different from Pakistan. The throngs were different here: women mingling freely with men, music and dancing, a distinct lack of head-scarves and more western clothing. I got some stares but nothing compared with what I'm used to in Pakistan. I paid 60 rupees to get my bags looked after while I went to the border ceremony. Waiting for the floodgates to open, the masses were getting impatient, everyone pushing up against everyone else, babies crying etc. Eventually, they opened the gates, and the mob spilled into the border area. By this point I was quite elated... everyone was happy, smiling, laughing, singing, dancing... it seemed so much more liberated and at ease than the sometimes awkward formality of Pakistan. I ran to the grandstands to try to get a good seat. I could see some other Westerners being ushered into a VIP area but decided that I can sit with Westerners in the West. In the East, I wanted to sit with the Easterns, so I ignored all attempts to separate me from the crowd and made my way into the throws of the Indian section of the grandstand.

The ceremony went on for about half an hour, Pakistani crowds roaring, then Indian crowds roaring, soldiers from both sides goose stepping ridiculously into each others faces... At the end, I repatriated my bags and hopped on a local bus to Amritsar.

And it is from the Golden Temple in Amritsar that this post is now coming to you. I have never really been anywhere like this before. The Golden Temple or Harmandir Sahib is to the Sikh religion what Mecca is to Islam. It is there holiest place.

I am staying with the pilgrims in the Temple's free hostel. The temple provides accommodation for thousands of people every night. Anyone, regardless of race or religion is allowed stay at the temple for free and is fed as many times as they like 24 hours a day. Everything is done on a grand scale here, the dining rooms catering for thousands of people every hour.

The place is maintained by an army of volunteer Sikhs, who wash it from head to toe every single day. Every shred of barrier is polished every night, every inch of marble buffed.

Everyone is very friendly and respectful here. I had heard this about the Sikhs and am very impressed by this complex. To read more about Sikhism (they're the ones with the Turbans), click here.

I'm off to Delhi tonite on the night train, and then directly to Kolkata tomorrow... I hope you can survive a few days without a posting (yeah, as if anyone will have a problem with that).

Ur man in India.... C.