India 2010

An Indian woman on the beach in Goa called one of my friends a monkeyheart when he didn’t want to buy anything from her.. it stayed as a word for the rest of the trip and we would use it as a joke when somebody was being “bad”.. Today however, in order to be able to set the title for the picture above, I decided to do some research about the term. Apparently “a monkey’s heart” is an old Indian tale about a monkey and a crocodile with a demanding wife.. and in the end.. being a monkey actually means being smart… and possibly having a tasty heart.

“The crocodile thought that now he could reveal his real intentions to the monkey, as it was impossible for him to escape from the middle of the river. The crocodile gullibly said to the monkey, “I am taking you to my home to please my wife. She wants to eat your heart. She says that since you eat tasty fruits day and night, your heart must be ten times tastier than those fruits.”

The monkey was taken aback to hear these words. He had never expected this type of a request from a friend. He kept cool and said wittingly, “Oh dear! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? It would be my privilege to offer my heart to your charming wife. I usually keep my heart safely in the burrow of the tree. In order to serve my heart to your wife, I have to go back to get my heart.”

The foolish crocodile swiftly then swam back to the tree where the monkey lived. On reaching the bank the monkey quickly jumped off the crocodile’s back and climbed up his home tree. The crocodile was in a hurry and realized that the monkey was taking too long in getting his heart. Impatiently he asked, “What is the delay? Get you heart. My wife will be very happy.”

By the time, the monkey had realized that this was a rebirth for him. The monkey laughed and answered, “My dear foolish friend. You’ve deceived me as a friend. Can any one take out his heart and keep that in a burrow. It was all a trick to save my life and teach a lesson to an unfaithful friend like you. Now go away and don’t ever come back.” The crocodile was ashamed for his act and went home with his head bent down.”

Monkeys for the win!

Internet here is good, so you get some pictures this time, but first some text.. enjoy!

Hampi makes me sleepy. It might be the weather, it might be the strange light, or it might be just Hampi, but ever since we stepped out of the bus two days ago I’ve felt like doing nothing at all. We tried to be good tourists and visit some of the many beautiful temples this little town has to offer but after seeing three we gave up and went back to the guesthouse. Roi has the same symptoms. We just want to eat a lot of wonderful Malai Kofta, drink Ginger Lemon Honey tea and hang out in our restaurant with the riverview, talking to interesting people or reading. I like Hampi, it’s nice, but tonight it’s time to hop on the bus back to Goa and I’m looking forward to visiting the El Shaddai kids again and getting some more sun.

It’s the last days of my trip and India has done its impression on me which I still need to process and try to understand.

Naturally, there are things about India that would make anybody paranoid. It’s very dirty around here, and believe me when I say dirty, in some cities you need to shower for a long time to get that black layer of dirt off your skin. The cooking conditions look terrifying before you get used to the sight, and Delhi-belly, as travellers call it, seems to be a must for anybody – at least the 24hour quickie I got which apparently was nothing compared to the insane sickness some people have to survive.

However, after being really sick you feel a little stronger, a little more resistant, and a little more local. India sparks a lot of paranoia methods in the beginning such as over consumption of alcohol for the hands, brushing the teeth in bottled water only and never ingesting anything that isn’t steaming hot. It’s reasonable and I am guessing it’s the only right thing to do if one as a fragile little westerner wants to survive the first bacteria dominated weeks around here. For me personally, I take it easy in the beginning, after a while however, after feeling a bit more resistant and confident, I always lose my paranoia and start living it the local way.

Some travellers call it insanity to brush the teeth in tap water, and I guess I wouldn’t do it in places such as Varanasi or in the beginning of my trip. As long as I don’t drink it I have come to the conclusion that it most probably won’t kill me.  I have spent this day sleeping, reading Lolita and thinking about other ways I have started copying the locals in – this is what Hampi does to me and these are my conclusions:

Petting the cows is maybe one of the most enjoyable thing about India. They are dirty and at times a bit aggressive, but oh so sweet and calm and funny when they start acting like little dogs when you scratch their forehead. I love the cows around here, they make a big part of the atmosphere.

Another thing is the head-wobble. It means “it’s okay” or basically anything you want it to mean and goes either just as a twitch to one side, or like a flowing indefinable motion such as that of those ugly plastic bulldogs some put in their cars.

Eating just about anything. The food is amazing and the absolutely most amazing food you can find is in the places that look most dirty and rat infested and horribly dangerous to eat in. The street food is both cheap and good and oh-so perfectly spicy. I could eat all day, every day and everywhere around here. And I kind of do.

Is possible, yes? The use of English is quite specific in India. You always find somebody who speaks it and it’s actually one of the absolutely easiest countries I have travelled in, in terms of being able to get around languagewise. The English however is at times their own little creation and it’s a really funny and simple version of the English we know. The word possible is very useful for any time and substitutes everything from “could I please get” to “do you have” and “is it allowed to”. “Possible sit here?” “Water no possible” Another funny one is “side please” which is when they simply want you to move out of their way.

Bargaining for 10 cents. It’s a matter of principle for me to get the right price around here. Some travellers find it stupid to bargain over sums that for them means nothing but for the locals mean a lot. I bargain most of the times as I see it as a part of India and the life here, and the ones I bargain with also seem to consider it a sport. It’s what you do here, and even if the difference between 50 and 40 rupees actually is less than 20eurocents, I prefer giving the extra ten as a tip afterwards than having them overcharge me as the “stupid tourist” they usually consider me being. Why should I pay 15 rupees for the daily boatride to cross the river here in Hampi when the locals pay 10, and why should I pay 80 rupees for a rickshaw when I know that I am supposed to pay around 30 for that distance. The people here always try to squeeze out that little extra penny from you, either if it’s by trying to give you the wrong change or starting with a price far over the real one when you want to buy something. Some people just pay because they don’t want to hassle, for me those extra five minutes of talking, playing and joking is the most enjoyable moment of setting the right deal.

Understanding the switches. To turn the lights off you need to cross a little Disneyland of switches and plugs and little turning wheels, but there’s mostly a logic to it which I think I have started to understand. haha

Dirt, bugs and death. It’s everywhere and there’s nothing you can do about it but to face it and stop letting it affect you too much..

In a couple of hours we will start moving to Hospit where we will take our overnight bus to Goa. I’m looking forward to the music on my iPod and later the beach. The bus is supposed to take 12 hours. Time is just an illusion, piece of cake.

Take care!

C

So it’s been a while. Again. I never expected it to be so difficult to find good internet and wifi around here, but the latter is actually closer to impossible than difficult. I’m really happy I have my laptop so that I can backup my photos even if the humidity and the dust seems to kill all electronic devices. My phone is completely dead so don’t even bother texting me..

I’m in Goa now. Going around between beaches and little colourful villages on my motorbike, enjoying the sun and getting some things done.

A lot has happened since I last posted something here. I met two Italian Berlin-guys in Pushkar that I got stuck with for almost two weeks.

Me & Pietro in Jodhpur-Napoli.

They told people that I was adopted and they had exchanged me for an old iPod. It was a lot of fun and a lot of new Italian words, but as everything sucks in Napoli, the moment of separation came and I chose to stay in Goa while they went on with their super-strict german itinerary. Funny thing is we have the same flight back so I guess I will have to see them again.:P

After Pushkar we spent some days in Jodhpur, which was actually blue, not like the “pink” that Jaipur was supposed to be. It was blue and it was beautiful, and we got there just as they were celebrating a festival so I danced some traditional dance with some kids on a backyard and it was generally a kind and easy city.

Jaisalmer was different from the other places I have visited and it was nice to see some desert, sandstone and beautiful leather bags. We jumped onto some camels and they took us on a two day safari.

The desert was more of a big sand-dune than the Sahara-like desert I had imagined, and at one moment when we were laying down on blankets after riding the camels and visiting small villages the whole day, one in the group screamed “snake, snake!” which proved to be a very poisonous little fellow that the Indian cameldriver instantly killed with a stick. It had been crawling over poor Johnny’s legs and the cameldriver was pointing out all the good karma that it meant that he hadn’t got bitten.. we got a bit paranoid over the fact that there were vipers around but looking up at the stars and trying to catch the shooting ones to the sound of the desert made me forget all the snakes and enjoy the moment.

I woke up in the middle of the night and spent some time looking at the moon as it was going down. I don’t think I have ever seen a moonset before, at least I’m sure I haven’t seen one on a perfectly black sky in the desert. The night was beautiful and in the morning we saw a lot of snake tracks around the blankets we had been sleeping on which was a bit creepy but too late to worry about.. haha

From Jaisalmer we went to Udaipur which by many is spoken about as the most romantic city in Rajasthan.. it was nice. Really nice. Quite touristy and photo-friendly. But nothing more than that.

After Udaipur we took a train to Mumbai which I liked quite a lot. We met a new travelbuddy, Roi, on the station and when the Italian guys chose to take an early train to Goa the next day I stayed
with him which was heaps of fun. Our day in Mumbai was filled with missions and a lot of local trains which are just like in the movies where there are no doors and people hang out and jump on and off while the train is in motion.

The day get quite chaotic in the end as I had left my lens in the Canon center and when I got there to collect it they just started working on it. It made me a bit annoyed but it was really interesting for me to watch through a window as they were taking the lens apart and my MacGyver cells were jumping around in excitement.. However “Wait a second, five minutes, we fix now” means more than 35 minutes and I had to leave it there as we were missing our bus to Goa.

We got to the local train station and got to know that it would take about an hour to get to where we were heading. Taxi was not an option, apparently it would take two hours. Rush hour at its beauty, there was no chance we would manage to catch our bus.

We changed our plan a bit and chose to take an earlier train to another close-by station where we could catch a cab and somehow maybe make it.. however that train wasn’t coming either and we were stuck waiting on our platform. Roi was amazingly positive and kept trying to point out positive aspects of being stuck in Mumbai, I was really happy that he wasn’t panicking as I know so many others would have.. instead, suddenly we spotted the name of our destination on a train.. but it was passing by on another platform on the other side of the tracks. “Let’s go!” was all I heard and we jumped down onto the tracks and ran over to the other side like I’ve seen the crazy locals do some times. We jumped up onto the right platform and into the open train that was already moving. My adrenaline kicked in and I was happier than ever, we got to our station, ran out and jumped into a cab, screamed “chello, chello, chello!”, and got to our bus the minute it was scheduled to leave. High five!

The Italian guys had chosen to skip the train as it was heavily delayed so we found ourselves on the same bus to Goa. Reunited! Happytimes. 16 hours ride. I watched the book of Eli, it was way too cheesy. Fail.

Goa is great. We found and danced at a crazy full-moon trance party. We’ve been hanging out on different beaches, watching sunsets and eating amazing sea-food. I’m going around on my motorbike and I get to wear shorts and my bikini. It’s not India the way I have gotten to know India. But it’s India enough at the moment, with a possibility to get a tan and relax. This is vacation. A well deserved one.

Yesterday I visited the children in the houses of El Shaddai which was a wonderful experience.

Apart from that, I was talked into doing a tattoo. I agreed under the condition that it would be my own special design.

Meet happy Prima, named after my 23 year old henna artist. It’s winter in Sweden at the moment so I get to wear socks when I come back. My giraffe is cool anyway, for about a month from now.

Bus to Hampi later, then probably back to Goa, more time at www.childrescue.net, and then Mumbai and the flight back home.

Time flies and I’m enjoying!