A long ride back

So I'm back in the states now. I'll probably keep up this writing thing though. It's good for me. The trip home was slightly annoying. It's not like it used to be with the whole nine month boat ride, but it still felt like it took forever.

It started off with a nine hour bus ride from Pokahra to Kathmandu. We had the pleasure of running into some major traffic issues that delayed all the process. A few days in Kathmandu fixing tickets and such, then it was a early two hour flight to Delhi. Our ticket said the plane was leaving at 7:00. Although the airport didn't open till 6:00. And the flight eventually left around 8:00.

We landed in Delhi and spent the day there. Our next flight was to Bangalore and it left around eight in the evening. The stupid morons at British Airways wouldn't let us switch our flight to Delhi, so we had to fly all the way down to Bangalore. I know I'll never fly on British Airways again. Of course the flight was delayed, so we didn't arrive into Bangalore until midnight. Our next flight left around 6:30am, so we just hung out at the airport. No sleep that night.

That next flight took us to London where we had a nice 24 hour layover. We were going to head out and meet a friend, but we ended up being so tired we just crashe at the airport. Our next flight left the next day and ten hours later we arrived in Atlanta. Then it was a three hour drive to Fitzgerald and that's where I am now.

Pokhara to Kathmandu

The trip back to Pokhara was a little tedious. A couple hour jeep ride, followed by a couple hour hike. Then a nights rest, followed by a couple hour bus ride on this sketchy thin mountain rode. Then switch buses to a bigger one. A few more hours on this bumpy road and we finally get to Pokhara. We figure out the travel plans, and then walk around town for the last night.

The next day we take a bus ride to Kathmandu and run into some traffic. The bus ride takes forever. We get passed by a western couple on mountain bikes, but we eventually arrive in the loud, westernized, dirty, town of Kathmandu.

Kathmandu is filled with CD stores, email cafes, outdoor clothing stores, Thangka shops, restaurants, hotels, taxis, touts, and drug dealers. Everyone is trying to sell you something. It's as if white skin means deep wallet.

Overall Kathmandu leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Actually, it gives me a sore throat. I prefer Bangkok or Delhi to this place. Those towns have a little more character then here.

I walked to Durbar Square one day and some guard stopped me and told me I had to pay 200 rupees to get in. I didn't feel like doing that so I left. The next day I'm wandering around and I end up finding myself in Durbar Square but I entered from a side street. Apparently it's free from over this way. I did some sketching and painting watched the people. Again there was more communist mumbo jumbo. These elections are annoying.

Everywhere I go I hear about elections. I even hear about the American elections. US politics is news in every country. It's a little sad when you think about it. There's nothing more petty and annoying then US politics and our silly elections. So to have that be worldwide news means that everyone else is interested in petty squabling and mud slinging just as much as we are.

Jomsom

Today we arrived in Jomsom. This town is pretty big compared to the rest. The streets are wide. There are jeeps that go down to Ghasa or continue on up to Muktinath. We're going to take one down to Ghasa in the morning. Our hike time is up. We still have two more months before California starts, and we're going to continue our travels in the United States.

It's cold up here, but the views are nice. There's an airport in town too. Some people take planes back to Kathmandu from here, but we have to return some of the gear we rented back in Pokhara.

Truckhe

This place is great. The guest house we are staying at is very welcoming. The people are great and every question you have is answered with 'No problem, no problem' I ask where the bathroom is and they say the inside one is broken, so we have to use the one in the courtyard, 'no problem no problem' Yeah, no problem for you, but what about me if I have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Although that never seems to be an issue since I haven't been drinking very much water. A quarter to a half litre a day seems to be the most I'm taking in. I doubt that that is very heathty.

Finally the trail is flat. None of this up and down nonsense for the past few days. It's nice that way. It's more like strolling then trekking. But strolling doesn't sound very intense or extreme so no one will tell you that they went to Nepal to do some strolling.

Even way up here you can get all the stuff you need. All the products are the same as in America. Colage, Snickers, Duracel. It's the same every where in the world now. It's slightly annoying. Diversity leads to evolution and change. If everything is the same, then it leads to stagnation.

Kalopani

Today we hiked up to the town called Kalopani. If you don't know where that is, it's right past Lete. In Lete we had to check in with the ACAP office. These are the people who keep track of all the hikers who pass through the area. It seems so pointless, but I suppose if someone falls off a cliff, the people can figure out what town the person was last seen in. That way they can dig through the ravines in certain areas as compared to the entire circuit.

It's getting cold up here, and the peaks are covered in snow. It seems it's been rainting in the late afternoons where we are and snowing up in the mountains. The air is fresh and clean so it's been nice. Fortunately the rains always seem to come after we're done hiking for the day.

I think this hike has been the most expensive part of my whole trip. The lodging is cheap, but the food is expensive up here. I guess if someone carries your food miles and miles from the closest real town, the price is going to be jacked up a bit. If you are a Nepalese and have a guest house up this way, I imagine you're rich as hell compared to your poor ass farmer neighbors. At least that's the way it appears. There's a big seperation of wealth up here. The western dollar doesn't veer off the trail very much, so a couple hundred yards can be the difference between wealth and poverty.

Crazy dream last night. I dreamt I had a hole in my stomach and these ants were crawling in and out of it. Ewwww. That's one reality that I don't care to be reminded of.

On to Ghasa

Today was another uphill walk. I'm curious where all the level hiking trails in Nepal are. I seem to be missing them. The trail today was along a road where a land slide happened awhile ago. There was a big road crew trying to fix the problem. It makes me wonder how long these roads and trails will be around. These mountains are young and moving quite a lot, so change is a constant factor. I was suprised to see a big bulldozer way out here.

Half way up the trail we stopped at some waterfall and asked some lady about the next place to sleep. She said there was a town right up the road. I was feeling sick and exhausted so I wasn't sure if I wanted to hike that much further, but she made it sound like it was only a 20 minute walk.

A couple hours later we finally arrive in the town of Ghasa. The stupid lady was the target of my annoyance and angst the entire walk. Ghasa is a nice little town. Again, we stay at the first guest house we reach. The people are very cool. The food was good and I slept for hours.

The next morning we were debating on whether we should continue to hike or take a rest day. Eventually we decided that a rest day is what is needed. Fortunately for us, we made that call. It started raining hard around noon. So we passed the day away being dry and hanging out.

It was my birthday today and it's a good place to spend it. I received an excellent Thai massage. Nothing is better then hiking and then getting a massage. I felt like a king and slept like champ.

Ghorepani to Tatopani

This hike was annoying. It was probably one of the most beautiful parts of the trail, but it was all down hill. It started out through this beautiful forest with flowering trees, then went down past villages and terraced fields. The trail passed through a little knotch in the hill side then dropped quickly all the way down to a suspension bridge across the river.

We left early in the morning after a couple paintings and started on our way. The mornings up here are cold. I suppose this is the mountains and all so it's to be expected. I'm looking through my journal right now and trying to write about this hike from the notes I took, but most of my journal is filled with my crazy dreams.

My sleeps have been filled with the most vivid dreams. I'm dreaming more here, then I have in years. It's nice having two lives. My daily life and then an entirely different existence at night. A week later, everything that happened in your sleep or in reality is just a memory anyway so they both just as real. I've been dreaming about old friends. These random people I knew in high school and middle school keep popping up in my dreams to chat it up.

Once we finally reached Tatopani we found a place to stay and went to the roof to paint. I started talking to this sadu guy dressed in the typical guru attire. He seemed cool enough at first. We were talking about the Bhagavada-Gita. That's this really old Indian book. It's a good one that'd I'd recommend to anyone.

He was a yoga teacher and I told him Ashlee was one too, so when she came up they started chatting it up. Eventually I got the impression that he was only trying to find someone who would help him get to America. Ash said she would try and he said, 'good, you won't be happy until you do.'

I thought that was a rude statement to make. Especially after we just got finished talking about how powerful words are and how what you say is just as important as what you do. Then he's gotta go and basically try to put a curse of total unhappiness on Ashlee. What a fraud and a clown. I'm glad I didn't do a portrait of him when he asked me to.

Apparently there are some hot springs in this town, but I was too exhausted to even go sit in a hot tub.

Ghorepani

Up and up and up and up and then some more ups. Today was a pain in the calf. The views are nice, but I'm starting to get a little sick, so my throat is annoying. The town of Ghorepani is located at the top of this hill. It's the junction between a couple of trails so as far as villages in the middle of nowhere goes, this one is pretty big. We ended up staying at the Hungry Eye Guest House. It was recommended by the kids at Laxmi's because their father is the cook here. He did a good job. The Daal Bhat was excellent.

We pretty much eat that everywhere we go. It consists of rice, daal and some mixed veggies. It's good food and it's the only plate where they bring out seconds. When you're hiking all day that's a big plus. The room we stayed in was great. Windows on three sides and great views of the town and of the surrounding mountains.

There is a place called Poon Hill that everyone goes to see when the sunrises. Ash and I passed on this. I was painting in my room before the sun was up and I didn't feel like hiking up a big hill anyway. An hour or so after sunrise, we saw this massive migration of people hiking down there. It was amazing how many people actually went up to see the view. There had to be a couple hundred up there at least. I'm not too pressed about not going up there. I was able to do three paintings sitting on my warm bed and looking out the windows.

Ulleri and Beyond

Ulleri is a little village clinging to the side of this steep hill. It's pretty beautiful. There are nice stone walkways through the town, little shanty guest houses and good views of the surrounding countryside.

We ended up staying at the first guest house we came to. I think all the guest places are the same for the most part. The rooms are the same in every place, the only difference is the management. The prices were fixed in this town so all the places had the same prices. Although, all you have to do is offer less and the owner says, 'well ok, but just don't tell anyone else.'

The same situation happened in the town of Pokhara. If you want to rent any gear for your trip, tent, coats, sleeping bag, etc, you can go to any shop and they say the prices are fixed, but everyone gives deals and then tells you to keep it on the downlow.

Hiking in the Himalays

So today we started our hike. (I'm actually done the hike, but I'll just continue to write in this tense since that's what I'm used to) As you can imagine it's really beautiful. The big hills, the terraced fields, all the trees and rocks and whatnot. The trail I'm hiking on seems old. It's all laid out with these slate stones and wide and well used. It's not some dinky little dirt path. On one hand it's nice like that, but on the other it's less wilderness like. I'm certainly not heading 'Into the Wild' and death by berries is the least likely end to this trek.

What is a trek anyway? Why is it called 'trekking' when you're in Nepal, but only 'hiking' when you're in the states? I think people like to feel cool and 'trekking' sounds so much more hardcore then just hiking. Hiking is what you do with your family on vacation, trekking is what manly men do in the wilderness.

I'm finding less and less wilderness out here. Everything is pretty civilized out this way. Hot showers can be had at most of the guest houses. They sell beer, chocolate and toilet paper at even the most remote villages. There is currently a road all the way up to the town of Jomsom and once you get there, you could catch a plane to Kathmandu. Helicopters fly people in who don't feel like walking. As my pack gets heavier with each step, I'm thinking that a helicopter might not be that bad of an option.

More Hiking

Yesterday was zero elevation gain. Today we dropped down from Chandrakot to river about a thousand feet and then we started our long hike upwards. After some breakfast and checking in at the police post, we start walking up along a trail that runs beside a river. We end up chatting with this nice guy who was once in the Nepalese Army. We're walking together for quite some time and he's sharing some good knowledge. He seems to know every single person on the trail. He's always stopping and chatting. He keeps telling us not to push it too hard on the first day. He's saying we should only go to the town just past Hille. Later on we find out that his brother owns a guest house there, so his motivation wasn't really out of concern for us. His interest lay in his brothers wallet.


We stopped at the town of Hille at the Laxmi Guest House. It started to sprinkle so we took shelter on this porch and just decided to stay there. The place was run by three kids - a girl 14, a girl 11, and a boy around 9. They were super cool and very responsible. They cooked up some good food and just talked and painted.

There's no one else but us at the guest house so it's nice and peaceful. The guest houses out here remind me of a cross between a grandmothers house and a dorm room. They are very quaint and relaxing. There's even electricity, so the hot shower felt great.

On the way up we were passed by a big group of people with flags all promoting some political group. They were for the communist party. I wonder if the war on terrorism is going to end like the cold war. The Cold War just faded away. It never ended in some supreme battle between the Democracies and the Communists. It just got surpassed by more interesting wars. Communism is as strong as ever. I suppose that's the influence of China though. A billion people is quite the majority when they are your next door neighbors. Either way, trying to enjoy the peaceful woods when hiking behind people shouting political propaganda is a little annoying.


The next morning we had some good food for breakfast and then hung out with the kids before we started our up hill walk to the next town called Ulleri.

Annapurna Permit

In order to go hike in the Annapurna area, all trekkers are required to buy a permit. I waited to the absolute last minute before I got around to even thinking about getting this permit. Today was holiday and I thought I might have been out of luck.

The office is a ways away from where we were staying and I really didn't feel like walking all the day down there. I'll have enough walking to do starting tomorrow. I was sitting with this shop owner just watching the day go by and I asked him how much it'd cost to rent his motorcycle down to the office. He said 160. I didn't want to pay that cause the office might have been closed. So I sit some more and see that there's a bicycle in front of the shop. 'Is that your's?' I ask. He says the bike is his sons'. Well how much for to rent that for an hour? He says fifty. Perfect.

So I'm on this little bmx bicycle that doesn't have any brakes and riding through town trying to beat the approaching rain storm. When I arrive at the office I find that they are open and I'm able to get what I need. It takes awhile to fill out the forms and sit around and do nothing while the people each thier lunch, but it's ok since it was raining and when they were all finished so was the rain.

You can check out some of the paintings from the trip on Maddrey.Net.

Hotel Switch

Today I checked out of one hotel and into another just down the street. The first hotel was fine and all, but we were paying too much. Although at the new hotel we are paying the exact same price, but at the new hotel I know the price is going to the right place.

All these countries over here deal in the commission system. So the first hotel we checked out, had rooms that were we weren't interested in, so he's takes us next door and says he has a room here. 'Oh, don't worry about the name on the sign out there, it's still our hotel.'

So a portion of our money was going to this clown and that irks me. I also know that he's a con man cause when I asked how much a taxi to Sarangkot is, he said 700, when I know it was 500. He says if I need a taxi he'll get one for me. No thanks, pal. I'll just get my own cab.

The hotel we were staying at was run by a Nepalese family who had a German grandfather thrown in the mix. They were super nice, but annoying. I asked how much it would be to store our luggage and one of the younger girls said, 20 ruppe's a day. That sounds cheap, but it's not as cheap as the zero ruppee's a day the other hotels charge. And when I was checking out of the hotel, the guy didn't have exact change and he owed me a few ruppees, and he's like 'oh don't worry, no problem.' I was like, 'No problem for you since you're the one getting the free cash.'

This place is all about getting the tourist dollar. It makes sense though. All these honkeys coming from far away countries with seemingly bottomless pockets full of cash. They just spend and spend and spend. So the locals try to scam as much as possible. Whenever you ask the price on some item to purchase, there's a momentary pause while their brain is trying to size you up and figure out what you're willing to pay. Every shop has a different price. The trick is to go into a variety of shops and find the average and figure out what you're willing to pay. The problem with that is that it involves shopping and I hate shopping. It's so time consuming and tedious and boring and uneventful and uninspirting and pointless and useless and a few more negative adjectives that I can't think of right now. I dont' understand how some people plan their days around it. But there's a lot of things that I don't understand about people.

Tomorrow the Trek

Tonight is our last night here in Pokhara. Today was spent running around, gathering gear and doing some last minute necessities before we head out on our stroll. The first day we'll be heading to place called Sarankot. It's not very far from Pokhara, but from what I hear, the views are spectacular. Depending on how the painting goes, we may stay a day or two there.

The hike usually takes around 20 days. We're scheduling in another 10 or more. No need to rush. I just want to meander through the mountains and stop when I want, paint when I want and have no schedule for the next month.

After a month of peacefulness, we have to head back to the states. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone, but I'm not looking forward to the travel.

First we have an eight hour bus ride to Kathmandu where we'll stay the night and leave early the next morning for a two hour flight to Delhi. We arrive in Delhi in the afternoon, and the next morning we head on down to Bangalore and stay for the night. In the morning we fly ten hours to London where we stay the night AND switch airports. The next day is another ten hour flight to Atlanta. Depending on our energy level, we may try to push on through and make the twelve hour drive up to Maryland. Once in MD, we can relax for two weeks before we head down to Georgia for two weeks, and then it's another cross country drive out to California. This will be drive number ten.

I sometimes long for the good old days when it all it took was one boat ride to get to another continent. Sure it took six months, but those must have been some pretty relaxing six months. They didn't have any of this switching plane, switching airports, standing in line, getting the full penetration pat down from some goon who couldn't get any other job then with airport security. Back in the old says there was nothing to do, but sit in the crows nest and watch for whales.

Communism

Being over here so close to Tibet, I hear more about the drama then I would say in Tuolumne Meadows where I don't read the news, I don't watch the TV and I just sit by the river and paint all day. Those days are nice. But here I am and the drama that's always unfolding is more in my face then usual.

The papers and the people talk about the China crackdown in Tibet. China is so lame. That country is straight out of 1984 and it's creepy. A quote from the Chinese press:

The Dalai is a wolf in monk's robes, a devil with a human face but the heart of a beast. We are now engaged in a fierce blood-and-fire battle with the Dalai clique, a life-and-death battle between us and the enemy."

Imagine calling one of the worlds last peaceful profits a devil? What are they thinking?

I've been reading some literature by the Dali Lama and he speaks of his first dealings with China. The Dali gained control of Tibet when he was just a teenager. He speaks of the Chinese blabbing on and on and not saying anything other then just communist mumbo jumbo about progress, unity, etc.

It coorelates to our presidential canidates who don't actually have any unique opinions, they just blab on about ideas and concepts that they won't follow through with.

Today in the streets of Pokhara, a van with a speakerphone on top and red communist flags on flying off the side slowly rode around town preaching communist nonsense. The same thing was going on in Kerala in the south of India. I think communist ideas arise when things are hard for the general public. They hear these nonsensical ideas about total equality and sharing the work load and they fall prey to it.

They fail to realize that the people who want this type of system only want power. The consolidation of power leads to corruption. Corruption leads to more nonsense in the world. More loser leaders and more idiot ideas.

The more I read about the situatino in Tibet, the more I realize how screwed they are. China doesn't care about those mountain buddhist. China hates religion and the people who follow it. They only want Tibet as a staging ground for the next world war. Tibet has access to many of the rivers in India, so they could easily dry that country up. Tibet is practically impregnable by land attack, so they are already starting to build massive army bases up there. And they also use Tibet as a dumping ground for nuclear waste that other countries give to China to dispose of.

So whenever we buy this crap made it China or anything at Walmart, we're only supplying the future enemy of America with more funds to continue their genocide of the Tibet people.

If China was wise like America, they would have completed this process years ago before the Internet and mass media. They could have put all the Tibetans on little teenie tiny reservations and gave them casinos. But either way, there's a price to pay for behavior like that and it comes back to haunt us all.

As Churchill said, "Democracy is the worst form of government...except for every other form that's been tried." I guess the cold war was never over, just forgotten about for a little while.

Get a haircut

Today after I finished doing some painting, I wandered around and found a nice barber shop. For a buck f'dee, I was able to get a shave and a haircut.

The barber trimmed up my head and gave me a nice straight razor shave. There's something a little intimidating about getting a shave that way. There's some potential for some serious disfigurement, but on the other hand, I've never had a cleaner shave. I feel like a brand new person. I've probably only shaved three or four times since I've been here and it's always with those cheap indian razors that basically suck.

Some people don't even recognize me. Earlier in the day I was painting by the lake when a bunch of guys came by for a couple things. First they sent the youngest of their crew to have me read a letter that said, we're trying to save up money for a football and would you dontate some cash. After my denial of that, they tried to sell me a bracelet that was ugly. Again, I had to pass. Thirdly they asked me if I wanted to buy some marijuana. After my final rebutal, a few of them stayed to watch me paint.

I'm always impressed with the people who watch me paint over here. My paintings usually take an hour or two a many times the people stay for the whole duration. American's don't have that kind of time or patience.

Anyway, after my haircut I was passing a street corner and one of the guys tried to sell me some marijuana and I was like, 'dude.... it's me? Remember?' It took him a second, but he eventually remembered.

That leads me to story that happened on the way here. I was passing a guy and he asked me something. I thought he said, 'Would you like to do some drinking later?'


"No, no drinking, no drugs, leave me alone, please." I think that was probably the fifth person today who tried to sell me something, so I was a little annoyed. But then the guy said, "No, no no.... trekking. Would you like to do some trekking."

A trip to the Village

February 28, 2008

The other morning I was in my hotel room getting ready to head out for the day when I hear a knock at the door. I open the door and see my friend Pusar. He was the camel driver I stayed with during my first trip to India back in '04. I was totally suprised. We chatted for a bit, and he invited me out to his village sometime. I said, how about today? So we made plans to meet at the bus station in the afternoon.

I arrive and before we even get out of the taxi there's this guy standing there right next to the rickshaw. He was almost climbing in. I thought it was a little weird, but I thought maybe he wanted the next ride. As I'm trying to climb out I see it's Derag, Pusars' son. He was already on the lookout for us. A white guy at the local bus stand is pretty easy to spot. We are an hour early so we go to wait in the shade and have some chai.

Soon it's time for the bus to leave. The bus is as packed as you might imagine an Indian bus to be. Instead of dealing with the suffocating inside, we opt for the shanti ride on the top.

With Pusar there, we're able to stake out a comfortable 'seat' and we're on our way. The locals all get a kick seeing a few honkey's riding the bus the Indian way.

About an hour later we arrive at the village. It was nice to be back since I haven't been there in four years. The children all looked so much older, and Pusar added a new addition to his house. His kitchen now has a roof over it. Although I must admit that it's all dark and the old one was much more airy and comfortable.

We sat around that afternoon entertaining some of the local children. Being out in the little villages in Rajashtan, it's easy to see just how isolated these people are. Pusar is a camel driver, so he sees his share of tourists, but the rest of the village is as excited to see a foreigner in their home as an American would be excited to see some lame actor in theirs.

In the evening we had dinner and drank some rum and water. That's not my favorite mixed drink and it was my first drink since I left the states, but it was relaxing, enjoyable and we all had a good time. Pusar's brother came by and brought some of his stone carving. He does intricate carvings for the sides of buildings. Then I shared some of my paintings. In India, people tend to drink first, and then eat. It makes more sense that way, because if you eat first, there's no reason to stop drinking and then people just keep on drinking and then they get wasted and sick and puke.

Dinner was delicious. It my first meat I had since I left the states and probably my last. It was a delicious entree consisting of chapatis and goat masala. Ashlee opted for the veggie dal. I'll eat meat in the villages, but meat from a restaurant scares me a bit. The food in restaurants is always hit or miss around here.

The next morning I played some cricket with the locals, while Ashlee was severely harassed by a few local children. At the time I didn't realize this. I was out there throwing the ball around and she looked like she was just chilling in the shade having a nice time. Later that day she told me how annoying some of the little brats were, begging for her belongings and just irritating her to death. It's funny how things always look much more serene from far away. Like if you're on the top floor of a skyscraper in New York, the city street and traffic looks so peaceful.

Eventually the bus arrived and again, we rode on the top. A new cast of characters, but just as pleasant. Ash was blessed by a sadu who sat next to her. We made it back just in time to head on over to the Desert Festival which was a complete waste of time.

Pokhara: Fashion Expo 2008

Pokhara reminds me of Yosemite Valley. There are all these trendy trekkers who are styled out in the latest and greatest in outdoor apparel.

North Face, Mountain Hard Ware, Mammut and all these other logos are everywhere. After being in India for so long, I forgot how style conscious the western world is. I never understood why someone would try to look styled out in a third world country. Who are they trying to impress? The locals? Other travellers? Themselves? I'll never know. Part of this probably stems from the fact that the tourists in Nepal tend to be older people on vacation from their 'real' jobs and in India the tourist tends to be younger people without any jobs.

Pokhara's lakeside street is lined with tourist shops. There is a striking similarity to all the tourist streets in all the countries. Bootleg CD stores, internet cafes, stores selling little trinkets, tailor shops and drug pushers. It seems that even in foreign countries, street corners are the habitual hangout for dealers.

Tonight it's raining and tomorrow they said it'll be nice. Other then the nuisance created by the tourist trade, (I realize my presence only contributes to this, I'm not trying to hide that fact) this seems nice.

The huge lake by the town has some great painting potential. The mountains in the distance are waiting to be sketched and the trails are out there in the dark just waiting for my footsteps.

I'm in Nepal!

So finally we're in Nepal. I was excited about heading up this way and it's nice to be up in the real mountains. It seems like it's been so long.

Yesterday we arrived in Kathmandu. Cities in south east Asia are all the same. Chaotic, crowded and crazy. Initially there wasn't much difference between Delhi and Kathmandu, but after a few hours the subtleties became apparent.

It seems that people bother the tourist more up here. We took a cab from the airport and we weren't sure which hotel we wanted to stay in so we just headed to the main tourist section of town to get dropped off. The cabbie tries to tell us that he's only taking us to the beginning of the Thamel district. I said, 'No, you're taking us to this particular hotel. The guy at the airport said that's where we'd go. You say he's lying, well I say you're lying.'

He eventually took us further, but then another random guy jumped in the cab and said he knew where this hotel we were looking for is. Whenever someone wants to help to find a cheap room, all they really want is a commission from the hotel, which means the room is a higher price. To the confusion of the cabbie and the newbie, Ash and I exited the cab right then and there and decided to do things on our own.

We found a hotel that was nice in the afternoon, but once the sun set, the bar downstairs started and it felt like we were trying to fall asleep in a bumping music hall. I fell right asleep. When there is that much noise everything just melts together and it's all like ambient background noise.

The next morning we arose at 5am to catch the tourist bus to Pokhara. The bus ride wasn't as crazy as people make it out to be. The roads are tight, the cliffs are tall and the trucks are big, but all in all it was sane.

So now we're here and we're happy.

Checking out

Yesterday was my last day in Dharamasala. I was anxious to leave, because of my anticipation of Nepal, but I'll miss the place and when I return to India in the future, Dharmasala will be one of the places that I will visit again. There's a mountain village called Triund that is north of here. I wanted to go hike up there, but things didnt' work out that way. Other then that, no regrets.

When we were checking out of the hotel we had a long talk with the owner of the hotel. Tashi, that was his name, was giving us a little advice about our travels, buddhism and life in general. Whenever I checked out of hotels in the states I don't think I ever had a philosophical discussion about life karma, the future, etc.

That may be because I don't really check out of hotels when I'm in the states. I usually just leave. I figure they have my credit card and if they need something from me, well they can just bill me.

Tashi then gave us some sort of seeds for good luck and wished us well on our journey and in our lives. I think I'll stay at that hotel the next time. It had a good vibe. If you're in the area, it's the place across from the Green Hotel on Bhagsu Road.

Tibetans Protest March

The other night Ashlee and I were walking around town when we sensed a buzz in the air. There was something going on, but we weren't sure what or where. The people's vibe seemed different, then we saw a video camera guy, and some cars racing in one direction. We eventually found out that there was a protest march going on for the Tibetans. I think the news of the Chinese crackdown in Tibet has been making international headlines, and as it should. China is lame and greedy.

Ash and I walked down to the Dali's house, and saw that there were not too many people around. We wandered over to the railing over looking the road and saw in the distance a huge procession of people each one holding a burning candle. The sight of all these monks chanting and marching was pretty intense. They filed beneath us and we watched from above as hundreds of monks passed underneath.

The monks made thier way up to the courtyard where everyone gathered. There were a couple speakers who were giving talks - in Tibetan, so I didn't understand the actual words, but the meaning was clear enough. It was very interesting listening to the speakers because I was listening to thier emotions and the feeling behind what they were saying.

Later a women got up and started speaking. She was on the verge of tears throughout the entire talk. It was moving. I'll never know her situation, but from the sound of her voice, it sounded like she was talking about a the loss of a child. Anger, hurt, loss, all these emotions were reflected in her voice.

I feel bad for the Tibetans. I'll never know their situation and what it's like to be in thier shoes. America will never be overtaken in the way Tibet was overtaken by China. America's fate will be different and more subtle. I think America will be consumed from within. So their won't be this big evil enemy to rally against. It'll be just a new way of thinking that will slowly erode into the rationality of the present.

Sleeping In

If you're thinking about coming to India for some rest and relaxation, it's possible, but don't think you'll get a chance to sleep in late. Every place I've been too seems intent on not letting me sleep in.

In Kerala, it was the lions that woke me up. Every morning around 5am, the lions would start roaring so loudly. It sounded more like heavy machinery then it did an animal sound. If I was able to sleep through that, then the morning bell at the ashram started clanging. There were a few minor bells around 5:15 and at 5:45 the mad clanger arose and rung the bell loud enough to wake the dead.

In Jaisalmer, the morning noises consisted of the bus that had a circuit down below our hotel. Eventhough we were a hundred or so feet above street level, we heard his honking early every morning. And in India the horns are a little different then the west. They are more musical. Somewhat similar to the horn in the General Lee, but less in tune, more obnoxious and way louder.

In Dharmasala the early morning noise consisted of fighting dogs. The street below our hotel seemed to be the battle ground for various tribes of dogs. I'm not sure if they were fighting each other or if they were fighting the monkeys, but either way the results were the same.

So it's early to bed and early to rise, but from what I hear, that's the best way to go. We'll see if I can continue when I return.

Wired in India

Out of all the places I've visited I've never seen so many tourists with their backpacks full of laptops and cellphones as I have in Dharmasala. It's like a little hip haven for trendy travellers. I guess it's cheap to live here, so people can come here and work from home. Although, maybe they're are just surfing the internet and wasting time in a cafe when they could be exploring India. But hey, that's what I'm doing right now too. I'm just using someone else's computer.

Cellphones are rampant here. Everyone oand their uncle's brothers mother-in-law have one. It's absurd and annoying. One nice thing about hearing cellphone chatter over here, is that I don't understand what the people are saying.

That will be one of the things I will miss the most about being in a foreign country - the fact that I don't have to listen to other peoples annoying conversations. When I'm at a restaurant and some lady is yelling at her child or two people are arguing over something, it's all the same to me. It's just nice sounds. The musical cadance of a language I don't understand.

Here in Dharmasala, there are more Americans then I've seen in any other part of the country and their annoying meaningless banter is so annoying to listen to. I'm not saying that American conversations are more lame then Indians, I'm just saying thiers is the only ones I can understand.

Don't call the monkey

The other day I was sitting on the porch of my hotel munching on some biscuits. In India cookies are called biscuits for some reason. I saw a monkey on this other roof and I taunted him with my cookie. Not sure why, I don't really like monkeys in the first place.

This monkey became interested and he jumped over to our balcony and proceded to dump out our trashcan and steal some rotten food. Another guy and I shooed him away and then had to clean up the garbage. I didn't tell him that I was the reason he came over here. I could tell him if I wanted to since he's over on a computer next to me, but it'll be our little secret.

Monkeys like it up here in Dharmasala, they're everywhere. The other evening Ash and I were eating on a rooftop restuarant when a monkey climbed up over the ledge right next to Ashlee. She immediately jumped up and ran away while I just sat and watched him. The monkey didn't get too close to the food because some restaurant workers came charging out with a big metal pole and screamed till the monkey left.

Apparently the big pole comes in handy since they had a couple by the door.

Indian English

I'll miss quite a few things when I leave in India, but one of the things I'll miss most is the way the Indians use the english language. It's so unique.

When talking about being slow, they always say 'slowly slowly.' When talking about working hard they say 'I was working very hardly.' I tried to tell my friend Roop that 'hardly' means 'not much at all' but he just said that's the way they say things over here.

If someone is being jealous, they are 'jealousing me.' You can also be 'afraiding' as well. There was a sign that said, 'Child Beer.' I'm assuming it was really for chilled beer. There's a restaurant called the 'Chocolate Log.' I don't know what they serve and I never will.

The menu's are pretty funny too. This one place had different breakfasts for different countries. The American breakfast was typical - eggs, meat, potatoes, etc. The english breakfast was some nasty english food and the German breakfast was, toast, coffee, and a cigarette.

One of my favorites was a pizza place that advertised: Better pizza through technology and innovation. I'm not sure what technology they are using, but the pizza wasn't all that great.

The Dali Lama

Dharmasala is the current home of the Dali Lama. Or as he's properly called, His Holiness the Dalia Lama. He's actually in town while I'm here, but he's been sick so he's had to cancel his normal talks he gives during the days. So no chance for me to hang with the man.

I did learn some interesting stuff about his situation though. I learned Tibet is screwed. The country of Tibet is like the Navajo nation in America. A small culturally unified group of people who are getting the shaft. China's plan is to overrun Tibet with Chinese people. Since there are over a billion Chinese, their plan will probably work.

Another interesting fact regards the Panchen Lama. The Panchen lama is the successor of the Dali Lama. The Panchen is chosen at a very young age by the Dali Lama and is educated and raised to follow in the footsteps of the man.

In China's attempt to continue their illegal rule over Tibet, they kidnapped the Panchen and probably killed him for all we know. He's been missing ten years. The worlds youngest political prisoner was eight years old. China then choose to pick their own Panchen and they decided he will be the next Dali Lama.

So when you watch the Olympics and see China is all their glory remember that this is the country that killed the next Dali Lama. Talk about bad karma. Whew... I'd hate to be those guys. Although living in the country that has the distinguished honor of being the only country on the planet to drop a nuclear bomb has it's own risks.

Sally Baker

As an artist, I'm influenced by everything I come across. People play an important part in my life. I get so many new ideas from the people I come across. In the past, I was adamantly against watercolors. 'That medium is just for little old ladies. Everything can be done with tricks and shortcuts. It's an annoying medium. etc. etc.' My list of complaints went on and on.

Sally Baker was one of the first people who pushed me into the direction of watercolors. She gave me ideas and recomendations. She gave me little bits of knowledge that may not have seemed much at the time, but have really taken me far. That's how I learn anyway. A teacher tells me one or two things and I go with that for weeks, months, years, however long it takes and then I go back for a couple more bits of knowledge. 'Slowly slowly' as they say in India.

We talked about watercolors for a long time before I actually ever saw her work, and when I did I was blown away. Her work is completely opposite of mine, her procedures and work style are foriegn to me, but quality is quality and I can appreciate that anywhere. I figured I had this blog that people read it, so I'd tell everyone to check out her artwork. The watercolors she does are amazing.

Who wants to move to Reston, Virginia?

There's nothing like being on vacation and being reminded of home. Right now I've learned that my tenants in my townhouse are moving out. What a bother. I just want to hang out and paint, I didn't come here to deal with this landlord crap.

Fortunately for me, I have the worlds best real estate agent. If you haven't heard of him, his name is Tom Kavanaugh. It's absurd what a good real estate agent he is. Anyone can sell a house, but Tom knows houses. He knows what sells, he knows how to sell them, he knows his market and he knows his buyers. And best of all, he knows me.

Here I am in India about as far away from my house as I can get, and I don't have to worry about a thing. He's taking care of everything. And I mean everything. He's dealing with the tenants, he's fronting the money to have it fixed up and he'll put it on the market when it's time. It's possible that when I return to America it will all be taken care of. Smooth and effortless, just like when I bought the house in the first place.

That was a story in itself. When I first wanted to buy, we looked and looked at a bunch of houses, I told him my requirements - backs to woods, private porch - and he did the rest. In fact he started writing the contract even before I saw the house. He calls me up at work and says 'go here, that's your house, I'm writing the contract now. Come to the office when you're done to sign it.' Now that is service.

Even when we were writing the contract, I didn't worry about a thing. I didn't read any of the papers, all I did was sign and initial wherever he said to. I didn't feel that it was my job to read all that stuff. If you've ever bought a house you know the ridiculous amount of paper work involved. I couldn't imagine reading all that legal mumbo jumbo. I figured that it is Tom's job to make sure I don't get ripped off. You may say that is naive, but life is all about surrounding yourself with people you trust, and that way there are no worries.

So if you're buying or selling a house in the VA/DC area, please contact Tom Kavanaugh. I'd put his contact information here, but I need to ask him first. So if you need his info, contact me and I'll be happy to give it to you. Tell him I sent you, but it wont' get you anything special. He treats all his clients in the same professional way. Although, I doubt he'd sell your house for you if you're in India, that's a special 'friend' deal.

Dharamasala

Now I'm in Dharmasala. Home to the big man himself, the Dali Lama. He's on the computer behind me checking his email and surfing for the best prices on the latest cell phones. Did I mention how many indians have cell phones now? It's ridiculous. Their cellphones are better then ours too. American cellphones and phone companies are stuck in the stoneages. US coverage blows. Ther are places right outside our nations capitol where I can't get coverage.

Being in the mountains again has been nice. Kerala was the jungle, Jaisalmer was the desert and now I'm in the real mountains. The Himalaya's. Dharmasala is a small town, situated on a steep hillside. It's really laid back here. The shop sellers are less annoying, but they still have their moments. Last week I heard it snowed here, but now it's comfortable even at night.

More people smoke cigarettes then the rest of india. The rest of india chews this tobacco like stuff. I'm not sure what it is they are chewing exactly, but it most be addictive. After years of chewing this stuff, a persons teeth turn all red and then eventually fall out. I guess that's not that big of a deal in a country where you can't really get a divorce.

Westernization of the India Nation

On the train ride I was speaking with the guy who sat across from me. I was asking him if he liked to watch cricket. His response was all too typical of the 'new' India. No, I like to watch WWE. The World Wrestling Federation goes by World Wrestling Entertainment now. I'm not sure if this a global change or just an India thing.
I was disappointed to hear this, but at the same time, it was something we could talk about since I've heard about wrestling from so many other people over here.
"Oh yeah, I bet you like Kali don't you? It's a shame about the Undertaker busting up his legs. He'll be out of it for awhile, but I hear he's now doing yoga. Which wrestler do you like? etc. etc."
I was suprised about how much I know about this useless information.

Another guy was asking me if I watched cricket and I told him I don't have a TV, so I don't watch TV. He was dumbfounded. A westerner who doesn't watch TV? An American at that? He asked me incredulously what I did in my free time. I listed off a handful of more interesting options such as, painting, hiking, rock climbing, guitar playing, reading, talking, laughing, joking, eating, being, etc. By his repsonse, I could tell that
none of these could match the amount of satisfaction that he receives from watching TV. I would have tried to explain to him things a little more in detail, but he was annoying and I didn't want to give him any more of my time.

Jaisalmer to Delhi - Overnight Train

So this time around, we were prepared for the train ride. Our tiffen (a little india lunch box) was full of warm food made by a friend, warm clothes and a some sheets were handy in case of the cold and most of all, we were mentally prepared since we took the same trip a month ago.

Despite all this preparation, twenty hours is still twenty hours. In situations like these you can't speed time up other then with good conversations or some mental activity. For the indians, cards seems to be a popular past time, but only with the type of people who would play cards in the states. Usually groups of women aren't gambling with cards.

The people we sat with this time were pleasent enough. One was a early twenties guy out visiting his sister. Another two were a couple out travelling. At first there's always the awkwardness of being stuck in a small compartment with people you don't know. Just siting and staring. Occasional eye contact followed by a smile, paves the way for interaction. The conversation was good and that's about all you can ask for.

In the morning we awoke to a whole new set of people occupying the seats. I guess everyone else got off in Jaipur or Jodhpur. There was a french couple who kept to themselves. I feel bad for french, they seem to rude and no one wants to talk with them. This couple could have been nice, but they came off not nice so I didn't bother.

As the train approached Delhi more and more people climbed aboard. Soon the bench seat made for three, now had five people. Ash was on the other side with the two frenchies and they still had three people in their seat cause the women said 'no, no, no.'

Eventually one guy squeezed himself in, but there was a few others crowded around wanting a seat. There were two guys standing up next to the seats complaining about how there was a seat there. I asked what was up, and he said that there was another
seat over there and he was standing and that was a problem. I told him that all depends on your point of view. They didn't seem to have a problem with it. Seems like it was only his problem.

The guy was an annoying frat boy type punk. He had his buddy with him so he felt he could laugh and joke. On my lap was a blank pad and I was holding my pencil, he asked what I was doing so I told him I was getting ready to draw. Then I did this mean drawing of with him having big ears, goofy hair and a big gap between his face.
Once his friend got off the train, he felt shy and out numbered, so he just put on his headphones and zoned out.

It's too bad that headphones and the isolation of the individual is finding it's where over here to India. I thought that was purely an American phenomena. I think I'll continue with this thought in my next post.

Rom Rom Gee

It was sad to leave Jaisalmer. After a month of being there I was getting used to things as they were. Eating with my friends, seeing the same familiar faces, and wandering around the alleyways that I know now like the back of my hand.
It would have been weird to wake up and not going out to paint, but this morning I woke up on a train surrounded by strangers, so I didn't have time to reflect on the way things were yesterday. I was just trying to realize where I was at the present moment.There were many goodbyes to be said, so the last day was spent wrapping things up. I had a few photographs I took and wanted to give as gifts to people. So I wandered around and found who needed to be found.

After that we headed over to my friend Roops for lunch and to pick up some rings I had made. This time, I actually made one myself. I beat it into shape, made it round from a straight peace of silver, melted it together and joined it, and finally carved it. My carving job was poor, so Roop helped make it look a little better.

Soon it was time to make it to the train station. Our friends sent us away with gifts and food, a open invite to return anytime.

If you're ever in Jaisalmer, I'd recommend stopping by Hari Om, jewlers to get yourself some amazing rings. I actually made them a website, but I don't know where I put it. Once I find out where it is, I'll post the link so you can see some amazing silver work. As they say in India, 'It will make your eyes happy."

Hey Friend!

Here's somethign that I just can't stand. When you're walking down the street, these random people, sometimes store people, other times just bored people, will shout out after you've already walked by 'Hey Friend!' as they try to get your attention. 'Hello... hello,' they continue to holler as you ignore them and walk on by.

My issue with this is that, number one, you're talking to my back. Why wait till I walk by. Why not say 'hello' to my face. Only shady people talk behind someone's back. And I've got places to go, things to paint, so I don't want to have to turn around and say 'what do you want?' When most of the time, all they want is for you to spend your money in thier shop or to ask you the same mundane questions: What's your name, what's your country, how much money do you make a month.

The second issue is that the person is not really my friend. I don't even know them. I pick and choose my friends carefully. I don't just befriend anyone. I'm nice to everyone, but my friends are in a different category. My friends I can see everyday for a year, and then not show up for two years and when I return they will welcome me as if no time passed at all. That's the beauty of friendship.

I think Indians just like throwing the word 'friend' around cause it's familiar and friendly. In the states people throw around the word 'brother.' What's up Bro? What's going on brother? etc etc. And that's just as annoying.

I've fallen into that trap at times before, but I'm really lying. I know in the world we live in we are all 'brothers and sisters' in one sense or another, but I only have one brother. It might be different if you were raised in a family that had four siblings or more, but in mine there were two of us. So the bond is a little different. To put someone else in the same category as my brother is to lessen the status that my brother holds in my eyes.

So the next time some clown calls out to you, 'Hey friend, come into my shop and spend your money' Turn around and punch him in the face, knock his stack of postcards in the dirty gutter and ask him if he's still your friend. And the next time someone says 'Hey bro.' Ask him to give you two thousand dollars and you'll quickly find out who you're real brothers are.

SCRAM!

Yesterday I was out painting down some old street. I was near this tourist spot (The Patwon Havelli) so I ended up meeting with the shoe shiner kids who are really cool. Between the three of them, they had one pack of life saver type candies. The one kid who was opening it offered me one, and then the other two kids each offered me one as well. I said one was enough, but they each wanted to give me one. I thought that was pretty generous of them. It seems easier to give if you have lots of stuff, but it's much more genuine if you don't have anything.

Later this big group of school kids came by. They were probably in elementary school and they were as annoying as they could be. Loud, obnoxious, asking stupid questions and then repeating these stupid questions. It was quite irratating and normally I can deal with crowds while I'm painting.

One of these annoying children offered me a piece of candy, but I was already chewing one, so I just laid it on my lap. Eventually these annoying brats left and I offered the candy to one of these mellow respectful shoe shiners, none of them wanted it, so we just threw it in the gutter. I didn't want it cause I dont' feel like taking things from people that annoy me but I was impressed that the shoe shiners didn't want it since they dont' have anything.

A while later, we are all sitting there watching me paint and this old hag lady comes around the corner with another guy - possibly her son or something. The guy starts yelling at the kids telling them to get off the porch. Then the old lady yells at me and tells me to get off the porch. Then she retracts her statement and asks if I have any money. Indicating that if I do, I can stay. I say no, and she just yells for me to scram.

I was totally suprised by this, cause most people are pretty cool when I'm out painting. It was a good reminder that not everyone in the world is cool. After the old bat, yells at me, I start to pack up my things. Of course I do this as slowly as possible. I try to be as careful and delibrate as possible. Each move is slow and cautious. With my brush, I delicately clean it off in the water, slowly dry off the excess water on my towel, then straighten out the bristles making sure the entire brush is in perfect condition. I've never taken that long to pack up all my things in my life. Normally I'm like, 'bing, bang, boom, done. Let's go.' But like I said, this lady was irritating to me, so I was obnoxious in return. I can be such an ass sometimes when I want to be.

It's time to go

Well I've been here in Jaislamer for almost three weeks. It's a pretty small town to be here for that long and I'm thinking it's now time to head on out.

When I first arrived, I could walk anywhere I felt like it. Then after a little while, I started walking down different streets to avoid pleasent conversations with good people or annoying talks with boring people. Now it seems I can't walk anywhere without seeing someone I've talked with before. The other night it took me two hours to walk back to the hotel from where I was painting.

I think being a painter, I get treated a little different the most people. Usually a little more respectfully. I'm still not exactly sure why that is just yet. Painting is cool and all, but if people liked it so much why don't they buy art or paint themselves?

I think some of the respect comes from the fact that I'm just content in my chilling. I'm not trying to find some excitement, I'm not trying to get drunk, I'm not wasting time with silly conversations, I'm just being. Just sitting there and looking. When someone sees someone else happy, it makes the first person happy. When someone sees someone else content and peaceful, it brings some peace into thier lives. But I really don't know, and I'm still wondering about it all myself.

The way things are

As I was painting today, I was showing this kid my sketch book. There were quite a few people around me. The kid was a shoe shiner who was deaf. There are two of these kids and this one is different from the one in the previous story, but this one is actually even cooler with an even better attitude. He was looking through my sketch book when this other guy reached over to look at it. I grabbed it and said that he could look at it when this kid was finished. But when I tried to hand the kid back my book, he had already took off and was waving back with a smile as he walked away. I then gave the book to the other guy.

That shoe shiner kid was used to getting stepped on. (No pun intended) His life was one of always being at the back of the line and having last choice and leftovers. I tried to give him a little equality, but he was so used to being pushed out of the way that he didn't bother even trying. Things are the way they are, and I can't change that. Every country has it's problems and issues, just like every individual has his problems and issues. That only makes sense, since countries are only made up of individuals anyway. One simple artist can't change the ways of the worlds, but they can change me and make me appreciate things in a different light. And by these changes in myself, I can hopefully pass on a little positivity to those I come across. I can't make a shoe shiner the president of some corporation, but I can at least make his day.

Rich Guy / Poor Guy

Today I went and painted by the Patwon Havelli again. I've been painting here every so often because the views are nice and eventhough it's a major tourist attraction, I can still find some shady seats where I can paint in peace.

One problem about this spot is this annoying Indian guy who lives nearby. I don't know his name, but I know his sister is Hemleta. She's really sweet. One day I was paintnig there and Ashlee was sitting next to me, and Hemleta invited Ash in and they hung out, drank chai and Hemleta gave Ash and beautiful red sari and showed how to wear it and basically do a bunch of girl stuff.

Hemleta's brother is an oaf. He kept bugging me about me giving him a painting. I told him he could buy one I said $200 USD. He's replied, 'oh 200 rupees? Here you go..." Then he went on and on and on. So today when I went back and was painting a different view of the havelli, he showed up. Today he was more annoying then before. 'Give me, give me give me' was his basic conversation. It was obvious this guy had tons of money, he lived in one of these intricately carved, beautiful havelli's, his clothes were clean and pressed and he had that 'I've got money' attitude that's easy to spot on people.

I tried to tell him that this was my job. I'd be happy to give him a print of it, if he liked. But this wasn't good enough for him - only an orginal. His arrogance and greed annoyed me to the point that I was going to start being rude, but since his sister was Ashlee's friend, I held in my negative response.

Later that day, when I was out walking around looking for that guy getting married, I came across another guy I see daily. He's a young kid whose deaf and spends his days shining shoes. I always smile and we sign language with each other and say hello and I can tell he's cool. As I was walking around he was sitting drinking chai and he motioned for me to sit down with him. At first, I was declined, but then I said ok. And we sat down and I ordered a chai. After we drank it, he totally caught me off guard by offering to pay for my chai. I was like, 'no no no' please, let me. but he insisted again. I eventually overruled him, and paid for both though.

Now here's this kid who makes his living off of other people's generosity. Shining shoes seems like a hard job. In India, where people throw thier trash on the road and cows poop everywhere, I'm sure it's as bad as it gets. He's as poor as you can get, doing a crappy job, but he's got a great attitude. To top it all off, he wanted to pay for my chai. That one simple gesture made up for all the other times these annoying children wouldn't shut up about asking for "one school pen? one chocolate?"

Thinking back on the situation, I should have let him pay for my chai. Not because I didn't have the money, but because he wanted to. He wanted to share. People like buying chai for other people, it's a sign of friendship. In the long run, I would have made up for it by buying him some samosa's and other food anyway. So I think next time, I'll let him get the chai. That five rupee's he spent on the chai, was nothing compared to the feeling and satisfaction of sharing a tea with a friend as an equal. I think that is priceless and in India, in his position a situation like that is hard to come by.

Now if we compare this cool kid, with this other fat f*ck who just begs like a street rat for painting that he doesn't really care about. I think he just wants it, just because. It shows two different types of people living in two different types of world. Since I can chose my company, I'll chose the deaf shoe shiner anyday.

Lets' talk about life

I've noticed since I've been here that many people just like talking about living as compared to living life. Some people talk all spiritual and it sounds as if they have thier life dialed. They do good for strangers, they're nice to poor people, etc. I find this chatter annoying at times.

Why not live life and not talk about living life. Just do what is right, don't talk about doing what you think is right. Sometimes, I'm nice to poor people, sometimes I'm not. For instance, I was painting today and this group of young adults came up to me and asked for some money. I was like, 'chello' (go in hindi) leave me alone. I assumed they were like these fake sadus that run around asking for backsheesh. Real sadu's (religious men) don't bother tourists jingling cans of coins. Real sadu's are too busy being religious.

So I disregarded these guys, but then one of the guys I know who was hanging out watching me paint, explained to me that it's a wedding and I should give five rupees. So I did. Then he explained to me, that the guy getting married was poor and that's how it was done around there. In families where the people have money, the family gives the newly weds cash, but in this case, he walks around town and does it. Needless to say, I felt a little bad, so I wandered around looking for him, to give him a little more.

As I was wandering around, I came across part of the wedding procession. In India, the groom rides around on a horse with loud music and a band before he heads over to the brides house. The group that was part of the wedding procession seemed funny at first.

They were dressed up in dirty old marching band uniforms, with some beat up dusty drums, pushing this heavy cart up this steep hill and having a terrible time of it. Their uniforms were half hanging off and none of them fit. The cart was falling backwards and they just seemed like one motley crew. I chuckled at the scene, but then thought about how it was kinda sad cause they were poor and doing the best they could for this celebration.

Mentally I compared it to a rich family who go through all this pomp and ceremony, but in reality thier procession is just the same as this poor family, but with more western glitz and glamor. Clean uniforms and shiney shoes don't make the wedding today, what makes it is friends and good company. This dirty looking group who were struggling to push up this cart, were laughing and joking the whole way up. Life is in the attitude of the people, not in anything else. Thier attitude was great, mine wasn't, but I changed it for the better.

I can talk about how I know how to live life and do right and be a great person, but we all make mistakes. We all make unnecessary judgements against people. I just try to acknowledge my ignorance and change my ways before I fall into the same old mental routines and stereotypes.

If I find that guy again, I'll be happy to help him out some more, if I don't I'll just help someone else out. That's the best I can do.

just

Namaskar

Whenever I head over to my friend Roop's house, I always have to go through this one part of town that's slightly annoying. Mostly because of the children. Now, don't get me wrong, I love kids, but the whole way through it's one rupee, one school pen, one rupee, one school pen. Well, actually they've upgraded, now it's ten rupee, one school pen, ten rupee, one school pen. I guess inflation has hit the children the hardest.

This time when I was passing through as usual the children were screaming 'hello! hello! hello!' and I responded with the usual 'namaste' but there was this group of quiet children just singing to themselves and one said 'hello' and I replied 'namaste' but then she replied with 'Namaskar' which is the respectful way of addressing someone. I use 'namaskar' for older people, women sometimes and any sadus or religious men I come across. It's just funny how simple little things like that make a difference.

There are times when I greet an old man with Namaskar and I can tell he notices it. Then when I practice some of my Hindi he really appreciates my effort. I don't think many tourists that come to India bother with the language, because every time I say just a few words everyone is impressed. It gives me a little more respect then they might otherwise give me.

Painting with Children

Last night I was painting and all these kids were swarming around me. Some were little brats and a little annoying. Some were cool and cheerful. Overall I wasn't too bothered, by it. I try to tune them out, but apparently the scene was being watched by this older guy. He's a brahmin who hangs out sometimes and I've painted around him before.

In the middle of my painting, I hear this voice that screams out like a lion and says something in Hindi. All the children scatter and I turn around and see him sitting there. He was just trying to give me a little peace and for the rest of the drawing I was disturbed by anyone.

Today when I was painting at this other place, once again I was the object of attention. Throughout my walks around town I've befriended this little clique of shoe polisher kids. The first time I was painting and they approached me, they were very respectful. When other kids came up and started asking for rupees and being annoying, these kids were like... 'lay off pal, he's cool.'

So I'm painting and the kids are watching and one of the adults who has a store nearby yelled at these kids to clear out fast. They were hesitant, but then he came over and intimidated them with some force. They scattered for a bit, but returned every so often to check up on the painting.

Throughout all of this, I mostly just watch and let things be as they may. I'm not going to change any Indian's perspective on their social structure. In India it is just as rigid as it is in America. Shoe shiners will always be on the bottom of the hiearchy. All I can do is treat them as equals when they're around me.

Tourist Syndrome

Today I was thinking more about the tourist versus locals situation here or anywhere else that's a tourist town for that matter.

This evening I was sitting near a store painting. Some of the store people were selling their wares to all the people passing by. "Cigarettes, Internet, Postcards, Nice Shirt, Shoes, Books, Stuff, Junk, Clothes, Come spend your money, etc."

Most people probably don't like to have to sell this way. But in Jaisalmer, the tourists usually stay for only a day or two, so the money comes in quick, but leaves just as fast. Many tourists don't deal with this type of salesmanship very well so they look down and walk on by. The salesman then gets rejected then feels a little bad for two reasons. One, he just had to lower himself to such a practice and secondly he got rejected.

This double shot of annoyance brings up some animosity towards the tourist who caused this feeling in the first place. So it's a double edged sword. The tourist is the means to thier livelihood, but at the same time, a destruction of their past way of life.

But everything changes and the tourists are here now, but they won't be forever. The smart ones plan for the days when they're not here.

The Undertaker

The past few days I've had to break the hearts of some of my Indian friends by letting them know the truth about television. The truth is, no matter how much pomp and show they have, and no matter how many individuals are ther watching it live, it's a sad fact of life that WWF just isn't real. It's a play. A staged fight scene like something you might see in a Hollywood movie.

"Nooo... they're really jumping on each other. They're really hitting each other."

"No my friend," I respond sadly, "It's all a farce."

"But they're really hitting each other. They're jumping from the ropes... etc. etc."

This discourse was initiated by a long description about how Kali was fighting the Undertaker. I felt as though I was having a conversation with my nephews back in the day. It's sad enough that TV's are becoming more and more prevalant in India, but it is even sader that WWF has come to India.

I'm not sure if they belived me, but my final example was in reference to some shady fighting where one of the wrestlers took an iron bar and hit the other guy on the head and the leg when the ref wasn't looking. I told him that if he thought this was real, he could hit Roopa on the head with an iron bar as hard as he could. If Roop was still alive then WWF is real, but I was of the opinion that Roop would be dead as a doornail. The experiment was never followed through and thier still watching WWF.

Hey, at least I tried.

Communication

As my weeks here progress I'm slowly learning more and more Hindi each day. I still can't understand what most people say, but I can communicate just fine.

One of the things I like about not speaking the local language is my ability to read people. Since the words people speak are unintelligble, I rely on other cues. Body language, eye contact, posture, tone of voice, etc. Using these other clues it's easier to see when someone is genuine or not.

It's easier to pick up the vibe a person has in this scenario. When I understand the language someone is saying they may be able to con me with pretty words or compliments. In India, I can only rely on my gut instinct, and my gut is always right so long as my brain doesn't confuse the message.

When I'm out painting, people are always coming to watch. Some talk with me, some I talk back with. It's easy to tell which people are genuinely interested or which only want to mess with the tourist. Today a group of young men came and sat around me. Some spoke a little English, some none. The group dynamic was so easy to read. There was one guy who was a handsome man and clearly the leader of the group, but it was obvious he was the most insecure as well. He was showing me his Ray Ban sunglasses and just being annoying all around. He asked if I could paint a picture of him, and I said for $100 bucks I can.

"Oh, aren't you my friend?" he said. I replied that I wasn't, but if he wanted a painting he could pay for it. After that he was quiet for awhile and I chatted with the other cooloer guys in the group.

Almost every shop owner asks how you are doing, but a few of them actually seem to care. And these I respond, the others I ignore. It's good practice just reading peoples true character. Looking at the inside of they are as compared to the outward expressions of who they want to be.

Tricks of the Trade

Today I was sitting in front of this guys shop painting. We started talking about the state of India today. He said he lived in Jailsalmer for his whole life. I said he probably saw many changes since his childhood. My last trip here was in 2004 and I noticed quite a few changes. More stores, more tourists, more touts. There are times when walking around town is extremely annoying. There's people saying 'Sir, Madam, you like my shop?' 'Want to spend money in my shop?' 'Two for 100, no? Three? Four? Five? Seven for 100?' At times it's best to walk with your head down and aviod eye contact.

The guy I was talking with was telling me how all this tourist money coming in brings in some shady characters. There's an artist down from my hotel who buys prints, then sits in front of his shop, and paints borders on them. Then he says that the work is hand drawn. Clever.

Another worse story is how these guides bring groups of tourists to large shops and scam their money. See in India there are these guides. These guides just sit around, looking for googling tourists and then offer to show them around town. The guides are always all spiffed up in some lame looking half suit, half indian dress outfit. You can spot a guide a mile away. Wherever the guide takes a tourist, if the tourist buys something, the guide gets a commission. Usually around 30%. It's such a scam.

My friend Raja works in this shop and if someone walks in and wants a ring he'll say one price, if the tourist has a guide, he has to say a higher price to pay for the guides commission. Some guides have this particular scam where they will call a store ahead of time and say they are bringing in a big group of tourists. Then the store owner will go get a group of kids and put them out back and give them some pencils and paper. When the group arrives, the tourists see this impromptu 'school' and think that the store is doing good for the community. The owner may say that 1/2 the profits go to helping these kids learn. The tourists feeling nice buy many things from the shop and often give big donations. The guides get 30%.

If you're planning on going to India. Buyer beware.

The Desert Festival

Tomorrow is the last day of the desert festival. Every year there is a three day extravaganza with camels, and festivities and music and all the required accoutrements.

The whole town is a buzz. Everyone seems to be talking about it. The tourists have come out in full force. It's quite the party atmosphere compared to just a few days ago.

On the first day, I made my way down to the stadium where the initial action. My arrival time coincided with the "Mr. Desert Festival." I stayed five minutes, maybe six and then went on my merry way to go paint.

I always feel a little bad when people put on these party type events and they end up being bunk. It's not my fault and I shouldn't feel bad, but I know people put in all this effort, time, and energy. There are people who are really excited about this lame desert festival.

It's not just this festival that I feel bad about, it's all those lame events that we've all attended in the past. I think I sympathize with people because I have to put on art shows and show my work and when no one shows up, it's lame. Fortunately for me, I'm a mellow guy and if I have one or two friends in the room with some good conversation or no conversation at all, I'm still happy. My needs are basic.

Today I didn't bother going to the festival and I won't bother going tomorrow either. I just want people to stop putting on lame events and only put on good ones so I don't have to feel bad about the world being filled up with more ways to waste quality time.

Another View

For this post, I thought I'd share an email from a friend. It seems that India offers everyone what they're looking for. I'm searching for a little peace and some quality painting time, but if you're interested in a little more drama, well then there's some of that too.

Tiru is freaking intense- the real India- so far Ive seen a dead girl in the back of a truck with her eyes staring open in a milky glaze, sadhus vomiting in hepatitus guters, a 3 yr old walking a tightrope on a wheelwith 3 pots on her head and then an argument ensuing about child rights, and there is this creepy American hypnotherapist who looks like JimMorrison, hypnotizing all the drippy western hippy chicks ... Its full on - a bit of a low grade hippie sex scene.

So that is one view of India. It's a bit different then mine. Although I did see a girl on a type rope, but that's what I do all summer long, so to me it's good natural fun. And today I did see a dead cow. It was blocking the traffic in some back alley. Later in the day, I went to a friends house and he was having a puja - a religious ceremony. It was pretty interesting.

What I notice about other people's religious ceremonies is the laid back air to them. It seems when religion and ceremony is a part of your daily life, things are a little more laid back. I had the opportunity to attend a Native American healing ceremony one time. It was an amazing experience. From sunset to sunrise we were all chanting and singing. The intent was there, but there was still this laid back attitude. I remember the main holy man who was leading for most of the evening, would ask if anyone else wanted to lead, but people were like, no thanks, you go ahead. And he was laugh and his expression would say, 'alright lazy bones, I'll continue"

Here in India, it's the same way. There was a brahmin preist and five sadhus sitting around and chanting and focusing thier intent, yet there were all sorts of other people milling around, chatting, cooking, cleaning. It was like this ritual was just another part of a normal day. If you go to church and think about god for only an hour every week, then there's this formality to it, since you feel like you have to cram in all this piousness and piety into one hour. In the long run, you're only fooling yourself.

The Jaisalmer Painter

The other morning I had a nice suprise. I was walking through the fort looking for my first paintnig and this guy stops me and tells me to wait and look at something. He goes into his house and gets a newspaper, pulls out the middle section and there I am in all my glory. A big photograph of me painting some buildings in the old part of town.

It seems that the guy who took my photo yesterday wasn't lying when he said that my photo would be all over Rajasthan. When he said that I thought, 'yeah sure buddy. I believe you.' But sure enough, one day later there I was. Some gora (white skinned) sitting and painting on the second page of the paper.

Apparently everyone reads the paper here because I didn't get more then a hundred yards before some other guy came up and told me about my new found fame. I chat for a bit and he wants to celebrate, but I'm on my way to go painting near my friends shop. I arrive at my friends place and he's talking about this mornings suprise as well. A mini celebrity in a city where I can't even speak their language. Today when I was out painting, some guy came up and said he saw my pictuer in the paper as well. Apparently this media thing works.

If I had thought about things a little more, I would have given the guy my business card and my website address, but marketing has never been my strength. My usual marketing tatics involve having my friends and clients talk about my artwork to thier friends and family. So far it's working quite well, but maybe one day I'll pursue something a little more business like. The problem is that is not my style and when you try a style that isn't your own, it doesn't work. For now, I'll just continue being myself while keeping quiet and letting others do the work for me. That way it gives people something to talk about that's more interesting then sports or the news.

A town for Tourists

I think there is something negative about tourist towns. I haven't exactly nailed it down yet, but the vibe is different then most towns.

Jaisalmer has changed a little bit since I came here last. The same amount of tourists, but more shops and more hotels competing for the same amount of money. So the touts and hawkers are a little more persistent.

I've met up with some of my friends from the past and it's been good. Eating at friends houses amongst good company always beats eating out. This morning, Ashlee and I helped cook and make some chapati's. This is some knowledge that Ash was anxious to bring back with us.
Some of the other locals seem to have a holier than thou attitude. It's like they despise the tourists, yet without them they wouldn't be riding around on thier fancy motorcycles.

I notice this same attitude in Yosemite. I work with some people that just DESPISE the tourists that visit. Some are waiters and they walk out in the restaurant with smiles on, but when they walk into the kitchen, they use some of foulest language I've ever heard. Although part of this goes with the waiter culture. It doesn't matter what restaurant you go to, most waiters don't like you, they only like your tip. Any request is seen as annoying and any conversation is only to amuse you. Their main concern is getting off in a few hours and hanging out with friends.

In the long run, this attitude of superiority will only make less tourists come here. So they're only shooting themselves in the foot. I know if I didn't have friends here, I wouldn't come back. But I'm good at ignoring things I don't like, so I enjoy my time here. The old fort in the desert is amazing. The sun on the castle is beautiful, the air is fresh when it's not dinner time and people are cooking with coal in the streets and every night I sleep a sound comfortable sleep. In the end that's all I care about.

Twenty hours on a train

Once we finally found our seats amongst all the chaos, we put away our luggage and tried to get ourselves mentally prepared for the long ride. There were three other people in our compartment. One was a quiet younger guy, the other two were your basic adult.
We were all pretty quiet at first, but by the end of the ride we were all conversing as best as we could. I ended up learning a good deal of hindi.

About an hour into the train ride, more and more people started getting on the train. Apparently some people just ride for a few stops, but when this happens appropriate seat numbers don't matter much since everyone just crams in. Our little compartment ended up being where the card players came. There was probably 12 or 16 people all sitting around watching four or five guys play cards. I felt bad for Ash, as the female, she was definitely out numbered. I ended up sketching the whole scene while she sat and knited her hat.

Eventually most of these guys left and a new guy came on who was a friend of two guys in my compartment. The minute he sat down, I could tell he was cool. It's amazing how you can tell what type of vibe someone lays down without even being able to communicate with them.
Some of the guys knew a little english and from that we were communicating the best we could. The three friends were all with the Army and heading out to Jaisalmer to go back to work.
At one point we were all talking and laughing loud and listening to music on one guys cell phone. Cell phones are big here too, although the phones here are better. Video, music, bluetooth, etc. This guy was from a village and he's playing music videos on his mobile for the cellphoneless American.

We had a real party atmosphere going on and it attracted some other people. These two other guys came over with thier own cell phone playing music and wanted to join the party. But it was evident that the vibe they were laying down wasn't cool. Once they arrived, the joking and laughing slowed down and that uncomfortable silence settled on us as it always does when someone stains the crowd.

I liked the way the Indians handled it. In America I feel that some egos would be puffed up and people would use intimidation to push people out. Here in India, they just made them feel silly and not including them into the conversation. Eventually they left and we got back to having a good time.

EVentually it was time to sleep and laid out the berths and settled down for a night of freezing cold. Ashlee and I were about as unprepared for the cold as you could be. I had two bed sheets and Ash had a thick shawl. Neither of which did the trick.

In the middle of the night, admist the shivering and turning over, what seemed like an entire eighth grade class got on board. There was no pretending to be polite and quiet. They were as loud as they would have been at recess. Eventually they calmed down, or I fell asleep and I dreamed.

I dreamt that I woke up and Ashlee had put a big plush mat underneath me and she laid thick blankets over top me. All my friends from highschool were hanging around and there was an overall happy vibe going on. Of course, that was far from reality when I arose.
In the middle of the night, Ashlee bent down over her bunk to tell me it was 3:00am and we only had two more hours. I felt bad to tell her, that I was mistaken and the train didn't arrive till 2pm. She took the news well outwardly, but on the inside I think there was a tinge of disappointment.

The next morning and day was more of the same. Laughing, joking, talking. At the end, I was invited to stay at this one guys village next time we come through. I actually might take him up on the offer too. It sounded like a mellow peaceful place.

Trying to catch the train

At 5:45 in the evening we had to catch our train ride to Jaisalmer from Delhi. Due to some time wasting on our part, we were a little late to the train station. Getting to a train station late in India is a bad idea. I recommend against it.

First, it's a place of total chaos to begin with and second, most everything is written in Hindi. The station has 16 different platforms and we didn't know where ours was. We asked these two men who looked like they worked there and they told us to go to platform 16. So we race on down to 16. We walk up and down the entire length of the train and see nothing that says we belong there. So we walk down platform 17, again nothing. So we ask some one and that person says platform 10. Now our time is running short so we scurry along, big huge backpacks and all. We walk up and down the length of platform 10 and realize that it's not our train either. Awesome.

So we ask yet another person, but at this point I've given up hope. He tells us to try platform 10. So we race up the stairs and back down the stairs to platform 10. On the sides of the trains, they post the names and seating arrangements for every car. So Ash and I are racing up and down the side of the train trying to read all these dittos taped to the sides.

Amongst all this chaos and noise and people and smells and fumes, we finally see a little piece of sanity. There at the bottom of a ripped up piece of paper falling from the side of the train we see the words that are so familiar to us, "Ashlee Dixon seat 18, Kevin Maddrey seat 19" It's amazing the feeling that seeing those simple names gave us. We get on the train and set ourselves down for a night and a day on the train.

How much to the train station?

So catching a taxi or a rickshaw ride in India is always an adventure. When we left Kovalam, we needed a rickshaw to the airport. Rickshaws are little three wheeled vehicles. They are open on the sides, but have a roof and there's enough room for two people and two big backpacks. Although you can also see a group of six Indians all packed into them as well.

Since we were carrying our large packs and walking down the strip to the place where the cabs all hang out, we were walking targets for salesmen. People come up and bug us for rooms. 'Nice room, only 200.' ' You need room?' 'Clean rooms, western toilets.' This one rickshaw driver came up to us and bug us the whole way. I had my price that I would pay because I asked someone else what a fair price was. He was saying 'No no no... it's this far, two people, big packs, etc.'

I told him that's fine, you can go give someone else a ride. He bugged me long enough that I decided to give him a chance. We drove to the city and he stopped across the street at our hotel.
"Our hotel is over there on the other side of this busy street." I didn't want Ash or I to have to lug our packs across this mad house of a road. He said there was no parking. I was annoyed cause I could have taken another car taxi that offered the same price, but I thought this guy was alright. It just shows that you never know. All I can do is work with the information I have at hand. If the guy turns into a scrub later, then that's his fault not mine.

In Delhi, I had a price in mind when I needed a ride to the train station. So I was asking around and people come bombard you from all sides. Asking for rooms or to eat in their restaurant or for rickshaw rides. I just ignore them most of the time and avoid eye contact. Sometimes I'm rude as can be, but for the most part I try to be polite and silent.

Although there was this one annoying guy who ran up right in front of me bugging me about a room I think, I didn't pay attention and I walked into him, pushing him and I think he fell into the dirty street. I didn't notice though. That was his fault for walking right in front of someone and annoying them.

Painting at the Mujahideen Temple

Yesterday Ash and I headed out of town to this muslim temple that's down the coast a bit. I first saw it a few weeks ago from this rocky out crop and it looked like it had some painting potential.

It was about a mile away from where we were staying, but it was a world apart from the mentality here. India is like Washington DC sometimes. This block is loaded with high class living, the next block is the ghetto.

I asked Ash to wear her shawl because she already stood out of the crowd, but with those long, blonde, curly locks blowing in the wind, she would have stood out like a man eating a hamburger in Delhi.

On the way down to the temple, we passed the Indian Wave Energy Project. A few years ago there was a project that tried to harness the energy of waves to generate power. It was going strong for a bit, but then a big wave came and wrecked the project. It's too bad though, because it is such a good idea. Waves roll in daily, oil is doesn't. Unless your in San Francisco bay, then it rolls up on the shore quite often.

Once we arrived at the temple we wandered around trying to find somewhere to paint. Once we found a good spot, we were surrounded by curious children. First they were asking for school pens every five seconds, but once I started painting, they stopped begging and just watched.

It's amazing how much respect an artist gets. Once they saw me start to paint, there entire mood changed. Even the adults who came by gave me instant respect. It happens all the time, but I still feel honored. People would come up and stand right in front of me. Before I had an opportunity to ask them to move, a member of the audience would speak up and tell the other person, 'Hey, hey hey, clear the way! Can't you see he's painting the temple?' Of course I couldn't undertsand any word they were saying, but body langauge and tone of voice says more then actual words.

The painting was difficult because of the crowds, the intense wind, and the sand that was blowing incessantly. One child kept holding my palette cause he wanted to feel cool. I let him since I could tell he felt special. Other kids were behind me and wanting to touch my shaved head. In circumstances like these it's a real challenge to stay focused, but I always appreciate a good challenge. It makes me wonder how some artists have their studio and are able to work in a room with no distractions, a perfectly comfortable chair, thier favorite music and all the ammenities like a bathroom, running water, electricity, etc.