My Turn: Calcutta / Leaving India

Alright, so it’s my turn.  What can I say other than we wanted to leave India?  As our trip progressed- yeah we were over India. Even me: I was all about the Taj Mahal at the beginning, but by the end yeah I was totally over it- much more than I could possibly express, and yet I do regret somewhat now (Johan just got pictures on Facebook from the Frenchies and their pictures of the Taj, which look amazing). Oh well… 

Can you say culture shock?  I hated India at the end and so did Jo.  Did it show?  It’s the truth.  Johan was preaching to me about Thailand and parties like nothing we knew compared to (where we’d met) Greece. Money had also started to become an issue, so what could I do?  Visit the North and succumb to more shit-ass experiences (stomach-cancer included), or listen to the devil whispering in my ear about parties I couldn’t comprehend?  What would you do?  I’d had it with India, man.  So, yeah goodbye/ wave / wave.

As for Calcutta, well it was more like a ‘stepping stone’ to Thailand.  We were both ready to go. Other than that it was much like Bombay only more sparse (say, like LA).  The only difference being that we didn’t want to explore anymore...  We stuck to our own little tourist-section of the city, met some cool people and pretty much didn’t leave knowing we had a flight booked for Bangkok. 

So, as we flew away we both smiled knowingly to each other and had that great moment of 'Aaaaaaah, peace....'  We've come to realize that that some people travel to see sights and some travel for experience.  We're not the ‘bullet point’ travelers- see this and then see that.  No.  We are more the ‘I met the most amazing person’ in this city or that travelers, etc. etc..  you get me.

BTW in retrospect and kind of a last minute add- The Frenchies did see some good sights (mostly the Taj), which I mentioned above and am kinda’ envious of.  And yet considering our experiences thus far, mayhap I might have missed lot but… but, I would have not been in the right mindset to properly enjoy the beauty anyway, eh?  Maybe I missed out or maybe... next time, eh Mom?

Yes India, you did blow my mind. But, I’ll let you know (via visa) next time when I am more ready to come back…

On to Thailand (almost caught up)~

The morning after our train-ride from hell.

We didn't go to Dharmasala, but hey we got to meet some Tibetan monks!

The Reds are coming!

Now that's some legit shit!

This was on the walls everywhere.  Couldn't make sense of it.  Push what button?

Neglection o' the Blog

I am just having way too much fun in Thailand at the moment to blog, but Johan and I managed to write one (finally) on asian-soup.blogspot.com. We are still back in Calcutta, or rather on the way-to. But, things are slowing down and I'll have my Calcutta blog soon, then Thailand I promise!!!

For now, read the interesting story about our 38-hour train ride. I promise that-that too may blow your mind...

Quick Comment and Annoying Clarification

I'm sure there are much poorer areas / places in the world that I couldn't even imagine. Sorry to have sounded so harsh. I mean, what do I know? I'm just a middle-class American, lucky enough to travel to places like Bombay.

Regarding the video below, wrong one (obviously) yet strangely enough my dumb-ass still managed to title it right. The one I was thinking about is on asian-soup, with Hawk and his drunk-ass doing his 'happy bottle dance.'

I Have Seen Poverty, and It Is Called: Bombay

Just finished writing our blog for asian-soup with Jo. So, I’m not sure if I got a’lotta juice left (have I mentioned how I hate having two blogs?). But, if interested please check out asian-soup.blogspot.com for more detail. For now, let’s just see what I can do…

After Bombay, man, all want is to stress is that I’ve now seen poverty- lived in it, been around it, etc.. Fuck TJ. I mean, yeah TJ is bad (all those great/not so great adolescent drunken memories with Zev and Russ, too many to name), but it’s got nothing on Bombay (as the Indians call it (not Mumbai which is all Gov, same with Calcutta vs. Kolkata.). But yeah, it’s hard to say “No!” those first few times you’re hit by the militia of beggars, disfigured, inadequate mothers, etc. But, after a while you become kinda’ numb… hard to say. I mean, is that a good or bad thing? I had a bit of a talk with Jo and I recalled Star Trek (call me a nerd), but man I mentioned ‘the prime directive (Next Generation) and decided for myself that no matter what I do there is nothing I can do on a grander-scale (at this point) to help this situation. I am just an observer; an outsider, man. By being a tourist, in a sense, I am helping the government by contributing to their economy, but man I gotta’ look out for myself too in the end- and you know by following my blog(s) thus far that my financial situation is not the greatest, dude.. and yet it makes me feel no better when I have to wave-off the 20th nine-year old girl who cries in my face for money, because I know that she is pre-dispositioned to behave in this way by her parents. ‘Perception lies with those who perceive.’ Yeah? Sorry, reading Richard Dawkins right now. I have helped them in my own personal way, but nothing to brag about or go into.

“My friend” is the most common phrase you will hear in India and, all of a sudden everyone acts like your closest friend (like in Egypt, J’s, but way worse). All the kids that aren’t in (free) school are forced to beg on the streets (by their parents) for money for the sake of their family. So what can a motherfucker do? How can I help this situation? Answer: unanswerable. It’s not my country, not even my culture. It’s a moral question that you think you can handle, but come here and then tell me different. Until then, my mind has indeed been blown (which I never thought it would)…

So, yeah we wanted to take an official tour of the slums, something to show us the darker side- but with explanation and cultural-understanding. But, one night we got drunk late-night and took a walk ‘til we sobered-up and, inadvertently hit the slums along the seashore. What an eye-opener. I mean, seeing Indians taking their morning shit on the shoreline whilst ignoring us completely compared to those we’d met on the streets was a different-level of interaction altogether. We were the invaders, nothing more to say. I won’t spend too much on this other than to repeat- I have seen poverty. I am only thankful that I was born into middle-class, America, and after my travels that is saying a lot..

Bollywood- well, I was almost in a movie and, Mom, I was ‘this close’ to calling just to tell you. But, Jo told me to wait and I did only to find that we weren’t even used for official recording. I didn’t even see ‘The King of Bollywood’ (Sharut Khan) though others in our troupe apparently did. Rather, I was left at the end wanting to shout at the top of my lungs ‘KHANNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!’ (another nerdy Star Trek reference for those that don’t know, and those that do, again- you nerds, whom I love!)

The Frenchies are greatly mentioned in Asian-soup, but I have to mention them here as well. The same mothefuckers that gave me shit for being American were the most welcome sight imaginable. They helped us find our place and, man, they are great people- as you will see by our photos/videos. We had a great time. Hawk is slightly alcoholic, but he is ever the ‘life of the party.’ Unfortunately I had a bout of stomach-cancer which hit me again (roughly two days) here and there. Johan now says that I get sick in every city, and my only reply is that I wish it were him (for once) except Hampi (that, I would wish on no one). But I stress again: the Frenchies made Bombay for us, in every way that can’t quite be written.

Elephant Island: The Frenchies!

I am back at the hostel, sleeping, holding my stomach like it is pregnant with-child. But, Jo had a good night with the Frenchies, and this video kind of captures it all. This video ultimately cost me a few extra euros (Ghandis) and a bit of pressure from Jo and the Indians cause it was getting late, so tell me whether it was worth it cause I wanted it for my blog...

Clint Haircut

Here I am, drunk, getting my mohawk carved-out. At one point, Johan told me he didn't want to shave my head anymore, so I had to start looking for other means of maintenance 'cause it takes more than you'd think..

Coming from Elephant Island. Isn't Smog beautiful? Queen Victoria landed here at one point...

Who's head is that at the bottom?

We took these two kids- the boy and that girl on the side with us to Mcdonalds as our own way of giving back. They weren't even allowed in, but we kind of fought for them, said they were 'with us'. We've both seen 'Slumdog' and, well, we like to know where our money goes...

Two white-guys standing against a thousand years. Cool though, yeah?

Even more cool...

Vengeance against Frenchy! On the Bollywood movie set. Hawk and I found a pool amidst the heat, and, needless to say jumped in... we did get into a bit of trouble, but we thought we were brilliant at the time..

Hawk has been to LA, so he knows the Westsiiiide. But here, clearly he is mocking me...

Had to fight with Jo a little for this one; wanted it for my blog. We are drinking some random Indian alcohol that costs us less that 50 cents. It wasn't great, but for the price what can you say? Anyway- between Jo and I: 'You/we got the Easy Riders pic on soup so I get this one...

Yeah. That's my Governator!

That other guy is one of the first Mexicans I have met in my travels. God, their accent is so distinct from actual Spanish! I knew right off the bat, and we got along well. Some cool guys, just arrived, heading for Goa. Hehe...

Hampi

Hampi, o’ Hampi, this long awaited blog. A beautiful place; a hideaway akin to Goa but without the crazy parties or all the Hippies that was Goa. It’s 'The Jungle Book' meets 'The Flinstones' and I loved it, but unfortunately we stayed too long and at some point it lost it’s charm. I also got sick and so there are some pretty awful memories I have as well the good, but you already know about that.

First and foremost Hampi is cheap, so cheap that Johan and I were paying less than a euro per night; so a great place to be sick and not waste too much money in the process. We met a lot of cool travelers, ate a lot of fantastic cuisine and, for a time enjoyed the wonders of absolute sobriety. Hampi, you see, is a tee totaling society where alcohol is illegal. But, once we moved across the river (with the Frenchie’s) we discovered a whole racket where suddenly Hampi was not so cheap anymore. We didn’t take a lot of photos with the Frenchie’s, but there is a good one on asian-soup.blogspot if interested.

The ruins were fantastic, which we explored with a couple that we’d met in the on the sleeper bus. I love sleeper buses; they are so fucking cool and the drivers are almost as crazy as Egypt (almost). We also visited a place called the monkey temple, full of (you guessed it) monkeys. There are dudes chanting up at the top and the most fantastic views. This is the Hampi I loved. The peacefulness, and the serenity watching the Indians play their cricket, some cliff diving and then hanging with the Frenchies (in particular) is what I love.

A word on the French- in my travels, I haven’t met a lot of French or heard anything overly positive for that matter- they complain a lot and usually stick to themselves when traveling. Now, the Parisians were great to me back in the day when I was in Paris, but I didn’t really get to know any. But these Frenchies, well they were the first I REALLY got to know and I have to say they are some great people. Many of the stereotypes I thought came to be true, and some not so much. But, I gotta’ say man, I absolutely LOVE French humor. They are bizarre yet witty motherfuckers. This one guy Hawk and I would just go at it- demented and sarcastic as shit. He rarely even called me by name, and when he did directly address me it was just as ‘Fucking American.’ Which I didn’t mind and he didn’t really differentiate when I tried to say I’m not American- I am Californian (big difference, aye?). I just told him to shut the fuck up and go take a shower. But all-in-all they were great and really made a nice addition to our chapter in Hampi. I only wish I wasn’t so sick for a portion of the time, and had to miss out on some good times, but hey I did my best.

It occurs to me that I haven’t mentioned much on Indian food. So, let me say that I do love it. I mean, there is some good stuff we’ve had, from various types of Thali (a whole plate of different dips and shit) to all the many kinds of curry, Tandoori chicken.. vegetarian dishes like palak palar, paneer (type of Indian cheese), dosa or pagoda (Indian burrito or pancake-thingies), great fruits like fresh pineapple, coconut, bananas, etc. The juices rock, lassis, milkshakes… oh too much stuff to name. It is only my stomach that didn’t share the sentiment for Indian cuisine- in India apparently. But by all means otherwise, I am careful. I mean- I brush my teeth using bottled water… so wtf, mate?

I also met a Dutch girl that was great and spiritual, but we only had 2 days together so our time was short. By then, we were sick of Hampi and it was about time to move on. We spent about two weeks there total, so the story is just too long to tell. But, I’ve got a shitload of pictures and some videos to tell the rest~

The sleeper-bus on the morning of our arrival, that was to be our first day, oh yeah.

Totally Flinstones, man.

I have been baptised once more... by an elephant. You give him a coin and he bops you on the head. It was SOOO cool. You could also feed him bananas...

Chillaxin' At The Monkey Temple

As you can see, the local wildlife oftentimes has a slightly irregular diet.

This is the life, homey...

Snake Charming!

Snake charming, man! Real freakin' cobras (but with their fangs removed). Forgive Johan's shitty camera, well actually he just recently figured out how to fix the settings so he can do better videos... Now all I want to see is a guy playing the recorder-thing with a rope rising up from an urn to the sky, a man being chased who climbs it, followed by another guy to climb up after him only to have the rope fall with him landing on his arse (like the old cartoons)...