Bangkok I.i

And now we arrive in Bangkok. We got a momentary taste of the Thai heat as we passed through the flexible tube that connects the plane to the airport. And the airport was such a change from our time in India! It was so clean and white and sparkly and modern and it was so strange to be back in such a Western looking atmosphere. I have to admit, I got used to it pretty quickly though. It almost felt like home. We passed by quite a few security guards as we made our way through customs and all that. They were very sharply dressed in tight black uniforms and strapped down with a belt full of all kinds of goodies. Once again, quite a change from India. Finally stepping outside brought back memories of the Miami airport. You know it's going to be hot and muggy but somehow you're never quite prepared for the warm thick air that wraps its meaty fingers around you. Ah, it made me nostalgic! Next, we had to deal with getting a taxi. We were well prepared for this though, because the hostel we were staying at was awesome and gave very detailed information about "how to get a cab" when we made our reservations. So the first guy we asked was a no-go because he refused to use the meter, and rule number one is always use the meter. Second guy says "Yes, meter okay" but once we get ourselves and our backpacks in the car, he taps and fiddles with his meter and announces that it is broken. So we got our stuff and got back out because rule number one: always use the meter. Taxi number three was the winner because he was happy to use the meter! And he had a sweet ride - everything was nicely lacquered and the leather seats embossed. The ride was smooth and uneventful. We just watched the distant city lights coming closer and closer as we drove into the center of Bangkok. It was strangely comforting to see all the tall, glass buildings in the distance, some lit with colored lights or topped with interesting looking signs or decorations. The roads were wide and paved, people drove in their lanes, and there was almost no honking. It was so tame compared to the last two months we spent in India and Egypt. Over the course of our stay we've met quite a few people who comment on how "crazy" the traffic is and I just can not see it. To our eyes, the traffic is incredibly calm and organized! I mean, there's hardly any honking, people stay in their lanes, there are no horse-drawn carts holding everyone up, buses actually stop to let people on, etc. You could almost say that the traffic lacks character. Either way, we got to our hostel (the Soi 1 Guesthouse, a great place) within 30 minutes. By the time we arrived I just knew I was going to like Bangkok. I suspected as much from the moment I got off the plane, but by the time we arrived at our hostel I was certain. There was nothing specific to tie my feelings to, I just knew it. I think Chuck felt the same as me. The hostel was a cool place, with the reception on the 3rd floor. The owner, Dave, was incredibly cool. He was personable and knowledgeable and was very good at making you feel like you've known him for years. Once we'd settled into our dorm-style bunk beds, the only thing on our mind was Thai food. We asked if he knew a good place to eat. He directed us to what ended up being our favorite restaurant in Bangkok. And when I say restaurant I mean it very loosely. The place was in a large space that is occupied by a market in the morning, empty in the afternoon, and then transformed into a food court of sorts in the evening. Our cart of choice (there were three) was the one in the very back. That first night we went there the waiters and cooks were all incredibly nice and smiley. I should note here that apparently it's a "Thai thing" to smile all the time. The Thai people are a very smiley culture and supposedly smile when angry, sad, happy, or whatever. I'm not exactly sure what that means - do they have a convincing happy-smile in place when they want to rip your throat out? Is it the same as just "sucking it up" in the States when an idiot customer comes in to your store and treats you badly? I know there is also a great importance in "saving face" as well, and I think this ties in with the smiling. At first I kept worrying that I might actually be offending people despite their smiles, but I think that maybe you can still tell whether someone's smile is genuine or forced. So eventually I just got over that and went with what my instincts were telling me. But at this little restaurant they seemed to be genuine in their greetings which was really nice. We sat in fold-up chairs at one of many fold-up tables and ordered the quintessential Thai dish: pad thai. And man was it tasty! Honestly, as I sit and write this two months later I can still say it's the best pad thai I've had, and I've tried quite a few other pad thais since. What a great start to Thailand...! And to make it even better, our two pad thais cost us a less than $3 US. It was just great. Back at the dorm we checked our emails for a bit and then climbed into bed.



Our hostel was completely covered in printouts explaining what to see, how to get there, how to avoid scams, how to get around, what's worth seeing outside of the city, where to stay, what time the bus/train leaves, etc. Much more info than one could reasonably read in a month long stay. We happened to read one paper detailing a good first-day tour of the city. It basically taught you the ins and outs of using the river taxi and Skytrain while taking you to some of the most famous sites in the city. So we decided that we should follow the guide and learn the Bangkok ropes. We walked to the canal, crossed the bridge and waited on the rusty metal dock for the river taxi with the two small dogs that liked to hang out there. One would just lay there while the other liked to pop up and trot around the dock like a security guard every time someone come along. Oh my, the river taxi is one of the funnest things in Bangkok! It's so simple but somehow sums up the whole of Bangkok in my mind. It's a perfect mix of Western meets Eastern and modern meets old-school, and that's what Bangkok is to me. This blend of old and new, and East and West is a big part of what makes the city so amazing. Let me explain the river taxi. It's a long, covered, giant canoe-shaped boat filled with rows and rows of wooden benches. There's a long tarp with draw-strings attached to either side of the boat so you can shield yourself from any spray flying off the water. The boat pulls up at the dock and the boat-handlers quickly loop their ropes around the pylons, pulling it against the dock. There is no ramp or doorway to get on the boat - you just step on the edge of the boat and duck down, climbing under the ropes and roof to take a seat. Before everyone is even safely on the boat they unloop and take off. It's so brilliant and so would not be allowed in the Western world. I mean, climbing over the side of a still moving boat? That would never be allowed! I posted a video of it here. A lot of the people who ride the boat are business people going to and from work, so during rush hour the boat gets incredibly packed. It's also pretty cheap - $0.30 to $0.50 a ride. Another fun feature is that during high tides the boat is a bit too tall to fit under some of the small bridges, so they have created a clever system to avoid crashing into them. The roof is attached with moving parts so that it can be pushed down into a lower position when the bridges in question come up. So we're sitting on the boat watching the potted-plant-strewn balconies fly by and suddenly the roof appears to be falling on our heads. I thought something had broken. It stopped a few inches away and moments later was popped back into place. No one else seemed to be phased by this, so I figured it must be a normal part of the operating plan. After a few more times we realized that it was because the bridges were too low. Man, that is clever! Why let a thing like low bridges stop you?? Just build a moving roof! I think the river taxi was seriously the highlight of our first day. After our boat ride we wandered around in confusion for a bit trying to figure out where exactly we were. Two or three people tried to scam us, but we were well-read on our scams and weren't about to fall for any of that crap. They tried the one where they claim that a special giant Buddha, or temple that is closed for all the rest of the year is open just for that day, or that it's the one day of the year that it's free to get in. It's all a big lie and somehow they get you to buy gems off them - I dunno how that works but apparently people have gotten scammed this way. Some people are such suckers. Eventually we got ourselves figured out on the map and started off towards the old town (the oldest part of town if you couldn't guess). Let me tell you, Thailand is hot and sunny. They aren't kidding when they say this - in fact, it's a bit of an understatement. It is ridiculously hot! And the sun just eats through your skin everywhere it touches, which is why you will see a lot of ladies walking around with a news paper or hand held up between the sun and their face. Like India, Thailand is a bit obsessed with having light skin and they have all the skin-lightening lotions to prove it. Seeing ladies trying to stay out of the sun is quite common. We walked past the Democratic Monument, got an opaque white, rice-like bottled drink, passed by a ton of people selling some sort of lottery tickets, and eventually ended up at the tourist hot spot known as Khao San Road. You could basically call this area little-America. It's full of hippie, backpacker tourists and masses of clothing stands all selling the exact same things at stupidly high prices. It's a rather ridiculous area and I think pretty much the only people who go there are farangs (that's what the Thai people call foreigners). We walked down the road, peeked at the various vendor stands, and were happy to be done with it once we reached the end. The most exciting thing we saw was a wai-ing Ronald McDonald. "What is wai-ing?" you might ask. I'm sure you would recognize it if you saw it. If you bring your palms flat together in front of you and perhaps give a slight nod of the head, that's a wai. Basically. It's a sign of respect in Thai culture, and a lot of other cultures (especially Asian) have similar gestures. In Thailand it's rather complicated to know when you're supposed to wai first, or if you should wait for the other person to wai, or if you should bother to wai at all. And then there's the question of how deep a wai you should give - the higher the hands and the deeper to bow, the more respect it conveys. So if you see the King (the King of Thailand, duh) you would give a nice big wai, but for the day-to-day encounters, someone unfamiliar with the whole system might get confused. Not to worry though! Foreigners are not expected to wai, and they might think you're a bit funny if you do. When we first arrived in Bangkok Chuck still had his Indian habits, which included doing the Indian version of the wai when saying "hello" or "thank you." He got a few confused reactions until he managed to break the habit. So at the end of Khao San Road we came to our first temple. I love the abundance of decoration at the Thai temples. It's not like the elaborate, well-laid out decoration found in European Churches, but more chaotic and disorganized. There is a lot of gold everywhere. Most Buddhas seem to be gold colored, and there are usually a lot of them inside the temple. This temple had the typical set-up with a large Buddha in the center surrounded by many smaller statues and various other golden decorations, and perhaps some flowers. It was pretty amazing to see, actually. The temples in Thailand are something special. We made a donation and went on our merry way. We headed towards the Grand Palace, and with me managing to get us a bit lost along the way we got to see a first glimpse of one of my favorite things in Thailand: street vendors. These vendors were simple and small, with maybe a small sheet laid out on the sidewalk covered in a mishmash of things you might expect to find at a garage sale. I was surprised at how many people were set up down the road, though. I can't imagine how that many people manage to find enough buyers to make their time worth it. But it was pretty cool. We passed by another interesting looking temple on our walk, and stepped in to have a look. Like pretty much all temples throughout Thailand, it was edged in intricate gold designs embedded with colorful glass mirrors. This decoration typically lines the roofs and wraps down around the doorways and windows as well. It's really impressive! Everything is so golden, and sparkling. We saw a bunch of school kids at this temple, all dressed in their pleated skirts and button-down shirts. They must have been on a field trip. We decided to pass by the Grand Palace for the day, since it was getting later in the afternoon. The road we were on led us straight to Pier 9, one of the many piers that sits on the big river that runs through Bangkok. Pier 9 is one of the busier piers and is filled with delicious street food and cart vendors. Oh man, Thailand is just the greatest place, let me tell you. So many delicious foods at your fingertips just makes you giddy. Tons of different exotic fruits, skewered meats cooking on small grills, soup carts, fruit juices, curry stands, noodles, etc. It's just fantastic. After a few bites to eat we hopped on the boat and headed south down the river. The boat is sort of run on the honor system. The ticket person wanders around shaking her tube of coins and shouting out for people to buy their tickets. If you just ignored her, you could probably get away with a free ride. But, most people seem to be honest and pay if they need to. Besides, it's pretty cheap. We got off at Central Pier and wandered around the area a bit. We found another small market with food and clothes. I got a very interesting squid skewer which was a bit strange. It was a bit squidier than your typical squid. Eventually we hopped on the Skytrain (Bangkok's overhead metro-rail) and road back to our hostel. Lucky for us, the hostel is very close to one of the Skytrain stops. I won't bore you with the few hours we spent relaxing, so I'll skip right to dinner. Chuck asked Hostel-Owner-David if he had another suggestion for where to eat dinner, since his previous suggestion had turned out so well. He directed us to a place about 20 minutes away on foot, and off we went. It had a curious name that piqued our interest: Cabbages and Condoms. The restaurant didn't disappoint either. When we stepped inside we were met with two mannequins completely dressed in colorful condoms. They weren't just randomly glued on, but arranged to make a nice skirt and blouse, or as it was Christmas they had dressed one mannequin up in a condom Santa outfit. It was pretty impressive! And the whole deal with the condoms was to promote safe sex and supposedly they give a portion of their profits to AIDS organizations and stuff. And to top it all off, the food was quite good.



The morning of the 19th I didn't want to get out of bed. I wove in and out of sleep for a few hours before finally rolling myself up. As soon as I made my appearance in the common area Chuck was dragging me off to get a massage. We went to a place just down the road that the hostel had recommended. Without their recommendation we might have been lost in the sea of massage shops that are scattered throughout the city. Just on the short road that is home to the hostel there are about five or six shops. Massages are an incredibly popular tourist past-time, which makes for a whole lot of massage shops. Half of the shops offer more than just a massage - particularly for men. Some of these shops offer "full service" for about 1500 baht ($45 US) on top of the massage fee (usually around 800 baht or $25 US). It's all perfectly legal because prostitution is legal in Thailand. This is, of course, another huge tourist draw, obviously mainly (but I'm sure, not exclusively) for men. A lot of the prostitutes are looking for more than just a paid one night stand, and there are enough foreign men who are happy to have a girlfriend for the week, so you'll frequently see a young, attractive Thai woman walking arm-in-arm with an older foreign man or a young studdly guy as though they're girlfriend and boyfriend. A lot of the men you see with the paid girlfriends (you can usually tell she's paid for by the provocative clothing and the overt displays of public affection) are not very attractive, or look like... well, douchebags. But there are a fair few that look like respectable, kind guys. It's all a bit strange to see, but that's how life works there in Thailand. I can't say how many women are feeling forced into this kind of work, or how many find it fun to have a boyfriend take care of them for a week or two, so I don't really feel I have much room to judge the situation. We just tended to notice the extreme cases where a very young woman was hanging on an old, gross man, or a skimpily dressed woman was arm-in-arm with a young guy wearing his hat sideways. We would snicker a bit and wonder at what might have led them to their decisions and move on. There are a lot of people we've met though who really don't like it and want to leave Bangkok as soon as possible so they don't have to see those sorts of couples. I can understand that point of view as well. To each their own! I suppose I preferred to embrace the parts of Bangkok that I liked, such as the massage. Speaking of which, we both got a Thai massage. They don't use any oil for this massage and they give you a soft, pajama-like outfit to wear. I guess the massage could be described perhaps as deep tissue and they really like to grind into certain muscles to relieve tension. For me it was my neck. She kept grinding her elbow into the muscle that runs from the neck to the shoulder over and over for five full minutes. I was determined to endure the process so as to gain the full benefits of the massage, although by the end I was practically seeing stars. The rest of the experience was quite nice though. They use the side of their forearms and their elbows as well as their hands to work your body. At one point I think she was kneeling on my butt to be able to reach my back evenly on both sides. And at the end they twisted me around into funny positions with my hands behind my back or over my head, turning and twisting me to stretch out different muscles. It was quite interesting! And it left me with a sore neck. No pain, no gain, right? And to make it all even sweeter, we paid 200 baht each for the one hour massage, plus 50 baht tip to our respective masseuses. So that's about $7.50 for an hour long massage. I felt like I was ripping them off! Good god, one hour massages in the States start at $90! It was just amazing. After the massage we had a bite of street-food and headed back to the hostel. We met a girl from Singapore named Sasha and a guy from the UK named Ben and all decided that lunch was in order. We walked down the street known as Soi Nana (soi is the Thai word for "lane") looking for a Thai place. Since Soi Nana is one of the red-light districts, it was mostly Western places. We found one down the end that looked to be both Western and Thai and stopped in there. My soup was absolutely delicious - I just love Thai food. We chatted for a while after we were finished, deciding that we should go to the weekend market. It's a huge conglomeration of shops - 9,000 - that is only open on the weekend. We made a quick stop back at the hostel to look for Sasha's friend Daniel, but all we found was a note saying "Gone to the weekend market to look for you." I suspected they were never going to find each other there. We took the Skytrain (the metro-rail) and upon arrival were swept away into the sea of market-goers. It was very busy with people buying everything from pots and pans to puppies. Amazingly, people actually did seem to buy puppies at the market which was bizarre to me for some reason. There was also furniture, beads, incense, shoes, clothes, and food food food. I got me one of those awesome looking coconuts where they hack the top off and stick a straw in it. The juice wasn't as sweet or rich as I was hoping, but it was fun to drink. Chuck got some kind of juice that had a salty-sweet taste that he didn't like so I finished that off for him. I witnessed the horrible murder of about 10 large shrimp as we were walking through one of the food sections. The woman loaded them all up in a wire contraption that snapped closed and with antennae wiggling, lowered them into a tub of boiling hot oil. Eeeps! Nothing like fresh seafood. After walking around for a bit, Ben and Sasha decided they wanted to do some more serious shopping. We decided it was way too hot to continue wandering around aimlessly at the market, so we split and went our separate ways. As Chuck and I made our way back to the Skytrain I popped in a shop and attempted to haggle for a shirt but the seller was having none of that. I didn't quite understand why, but we've come to learn that some people in Thailand just do not want to haggle with you. Their loss. Oh, and needless to say, we never found Daniel at the market. Back at the hostel we met some new people - an energetic Swedish guy, a spunky-once-you-get-to-know-her Japanese girl, a boisterous American girl, and a calm American guy. The American guy was full of good conversation because he was teaching English in South Korea. He told us about some of the experiences he's had there, such as the parents intense concern with the perfection of their child's English, and how the students will be very respectful when one of the Korean teachers is present, but test their boundaries when it's just him teaching. It was nice to meet so many people for a change.



We went for another massage of the 20th. This time we chose the oil massage instead of the Thai. It wasn't as rough as the Thai massage, but my neck was still sore from all that grinding the previous day which made that part unpleasant. Otherwise it was like a softer, more slippery Thai massage. The masseuses giggled a lot when we gave them a tip and left. We still wonder what that was about. Nervous giggling? Did we make some silly faux pas? Why the giggles?? Oh well. One of the street vendors right outside our hostel was selling Jackfruit and I decided to go ahead and try some. A lot of the fruits in Thailand are exotic to my Western tastes, so I decided I'd better get cracking and start trying as many as i could. The Jackfruit is a bit special because it's the largest fruit in the world - It can grow to be practically the size of an adult person. I was completely thrown off when I saw the fruits though because they are just two inch long pieces of bright yellow deliciousness. Here I thought it was supposed to be the largest fruit in the world. Turns out, the giant Jackfruit you pick off the tree is filled with all these small yellow bits. The vendor sits there with a modestly sized Jackfruit and cuts them all out, one by one. Then I come along and purchase a little baggie of the fruits and stuff them all down my gullet. They're quite good! They taste like banana candy, but not sickeningly sweet like candy would be. Don't get me wrong, they are certainly sweet, but pleasantly so. Good stuff! After a shower we headed to the river taxi. We got a Thai Apple on the way. It doesn't have as much flavor as a regular apple and contains a lot of water. The texture was a bit like a dense watermelon. We water taxied and walked to Khao San Road again, against our better judgment. The goal was to talk someone down to a reasonable price for a Thai Coke t-shirt. Chuck was wanting to get a t-shirt that had the Coca-Cola logo written on it in Thai, and they had quite a few places on Khao San Road. However, no one was willing to be reasonable! It was rather fustrating and we left feeling a little dejected. We headed towards Pier 9 and on the way saw a street lined with vendors off to our right. We decided a detour was in order and headed down that road. It was all amulet vendors selling small religious trinkets and statues. Quite a few buyers were meticulously inspecting the goods with those small magnifying glasses made for looking at gems stones. There were also quite a few monks doing some shopping which blew my naive mind because I always envisioned monks as having no worldly possessions. Of course, that is a bit silly once one stops to think about it because they are human just like the rest of us. Besides, religious trinkets are quite reasonable possessions for a monk, yes? Not to mention, I honestly know nothing about Buddhism so I have no room to be making any assumptions about how they're "supposed" to live. I do really like seeing those deep orange robes and shaved heads for some reason. I suppose they've always sort of been the most peaceful of all the religious symbols in my head. I'm not sure, but I don't think there are too many instances where a bunch of Buddhists have waged bloody war against some other religious group. There are a few rules I had to keep in mind if I wanted to be respectful though. Number one was to not touch the monks. Why? Because I'm a lady. Bah, I hate those rules, but I can deal with it as an outsider. I guess women are seen as a temptation, so if you touch a monk as a woman it's disrespectful to their choice to live without worldly temptation. I'm not sure I worded that quite right, but I think that's the gist of it. So I tried to steer clear and give them a wide berth if our paths were bringing us in close proximity. In all fairness, they did the same to me though as well. At the end of the road the market changed from amulets and religious trinkets to food and clothes. This market was more like what I was hoping to find in Bangkok. It was filled with mostly Thai people and the clothes weren't all the same tourist t-shirts as found on Khao San Road. I found a good deal on some tank tops and got two for 100 baht ($3 US). We tried to haggle for an even lower price with the young woman manning the stand but she just giggled politely and told us "Fixed price." Next we found the best pork in Bangkok at a street vendor. I'm not sure how it was cooked, but the thin meat was soft and juicy and coated in a deliciously flavored batter. They chopped up a slice of the porky goodness and tossed it into a plastic baggie with some tasty crunchie crumbs of some kind to add delicious texture. Oh, and don't let me forget the sticky rice. Sticky rice is "da bomb." After that snack we headed south towards Pier 9 and got some durian on the way. Durian is a special fruit, so let me take the time to describe that as well. I realize I've described quite a few foods so far (I hope no one's hungry) but I have a thing for food, so I think it's all worth the description! Especially durian. So, durian and jackfruit look really similar before they're split open and the meaty fruit is ripped out. They are both a bulbous round shape, green-brown, covered in spines and spikes, roughly the same size (although jackfruit has the potential to get much bigger). When you do get around to popping them open though, the sweet scent of candy bananas comes out of the jackfruit, while the durian emits the musky scent of... well, it's indescribable really. It just doesn't smell all that pleasant, although I don't really find it disgusting. The fruit, once it's dug out of its spikey husk, is just a pale yellow lump. And the taste is similar to the smell, but better somehow - although the texture of the durian I ate was quite mushy and not very appetizing. It's a really strange fruit and everyone seems to have a different reaction to it, which is why it's so peculiar. I also read that they grow and ripen up in the top of the durian tree and if you happen to be walking around underneath and very unlucky you could have one fall on your head and possibly kill you! I hear they put warning signs under the trees sometimes. Anyways, long story short: the durian was interesting, but not really my thing. We made it down to Pier 9, passing more shopping monks and vendors selling all kinds of random goods. We got some chicken feet, more pork (not as good), and some herbal juices. The roselle flavor was earthy but nice, while my grass juice was quite grassy. I felt instantly healthier after drinking it though, so it was all worth it, I'm sure. As for the chicken feet, they were just as disgusting as I thought they would be. In fact, I'd say they were more disgusting than I expected. Little bones covered in slimey, rubbery skin. Blech. I don't recommend them at all. After the feet we made the crazy decision to walk all the way to the MRT (subway) from Pier 9, which is a few miles. Although we had been walking for much of the day already, we decided to keep going - perhaps we can thank that grass juice I had and my new-found health for the decision. By the time we got to the MRT I was about ready to burst into tears for the pain in my feet and legs, but on the bright side we got to walk through some of Chinatown and see the gritty, dirty, busy and lively markets in there. I liked the ticketing system on the MRT because they give you a plain black chip (like a poker chip) that you swipe to get through the entry barrier and then drop in a coin slot at the exit barrier. I felt like the reusablilty factor was environmentally friendly. We did even more walking from the MRT station back to the hostel, but on the bright side we got Chuck's Coke shirt for cheap from a street vendor. Walking has it's benefits sometimes, despite the foot pain. We also saw a number of little tables selling Viagra and Cialis. So, for no-prescription erectile dysfunction drugs, come to Thailand! No guarantee that they actually work... Dinner that night was super spicy. Probably the spiciest meal of our lives (although I think my friend's Thai mother has made curry even spicier for us in the past). Spicy seafood salad and spicy sukiyaki. It hurt too much to eat more than two spoonfuls, then I had to wait five minutes to be able to stand eating more. Man, Thai food can be so spicy. Chuck loves it. Me, not so much.



We decided to finally go and see the Grand Palace on the 21st. We took the Skytrain to the river and took the big boat up to Pier 9 from there. Of course, being surrounded by all the delicious food and having empty stomachs we partook (is that a word?) in some skewered meats. We tried some Thai hot dogs and some sort of ground meat packed onto a skewer. Then we were off to the nearby Grand Palace. They are very picky there about respectful dress, so we got called out by the fashion police. Chuck's below-the-knee shorts were too short and my shawl was not sufficient for covering my shoulders. We weren't the only ones though - just about everyone had to fix their clothing, and because of this they had a whole building dedicated to dressing people appropriately. We waited in line along with everyone else to get our loner pants and shirt. You just pay a deposit fee for each piece of clothing and then when they're returned you get your money back. It's a pretty decent process and I was even half tempted to abscond with my borrowed shirt - it was comfy! Once inside the Palace (we paid a hefty 350 baht per person to get in) we were wowed by the sights. Every building was fantastically gorgeous with shining mirrors of every color captured in the thick coat of gold that hugged the roofs, pillars, doorways, and windows. Temple entrances were decorated with glittering dragons or stylized guards. One chedi (a decorative spire commonly found at many temples) was completely covered in small gold mirrors. They were so clear and shiny that you could feel the heat of the sun's reflection and it actually hurt your eyes to stand too close. The main temple is home to a famous jade Buddha statue who is placed at the very top of the mass of decorations at the back of the building. He was much smaller than I was expecting - all the Buddhas I'd seen in temples had been larger than life - but being jade is a good excuse to not be so huge. They would have had to find quite a huge chunk of jade to make him as big as the typical temple Buddha. It was all very grand though, with his shawl of white LED lights wrapped around his shoulders and the numerous decorations made of delicate real gold set around him. There were signs posted warning people not to point their feet towards the Buddha because in Thai culture the feet are the dirtiest and most unholy part of the body. So pointing the soles of your feet or your toes at the Buddha is disrespectful. It's also supposedly disrespectful in everyday life, but we saw plenty of people sitting in positions that directed their feet towards other people and no one got offended. I suspect it's one of those rules that is followed more closely with more important guests. So we were careful to sit with our feet pointed away from the Buddha. We also got a kick out of the big statues that were guarding each entrance to the temple complex. And the wall that surrounded all the buildings was painted with golden scenes of gods, kings, and common people doing everyday and extraordinary deeds. Outside the Palace walls we were able to visit a few small museums showcasing various weapons and other artifacts from Thailand's past. It was a lot to see and after we were finished we were ready to go back to the hostel. We grabbed some skewered meat, rambutans, and mangosteens from Pier 9 on the way back. Now for some more fruit descriptions! Rambutans are fun because they're covered in inch-long flexible spines with a little curl at the end. They're a red-orange color and peel open like lychees do. They also taste similar to lychees with an earthy sweetness. The pit in the middle is the only downer because a thin layer of wood sticks to the fruit when you tear it away from the pit. I like them despite this, but Chuck on the other hand isn't a big fan. The mangosteens are covered with a thick, but soft deep purple rind that you peel away with a few pokes of your fingers. Inside is an almost white fruit segmented like an orange. It doesn't taste anything like an orange though. Each slice has it's own seed that you have to gnaw the slightly tangy, sweet meat off of. They're good but not my favorite fruit. After a few hours rest at the hostel we went to our favorite little cart restaurant (the one we ate at our very fist night) and then walked around the streets trying to find some gourmet insects. There were a lot of lovely young ladies sitting in bars or standing on the street making eyes at any guy that passed. Some of the more aggressive ladies might even ask in a thick Thai accent "Where you from?" as we passed by. One girl we walked past a few times seemed to have an eye specifically for Chuck! Despite all the activity on the streets with food carts and street wares, we found no insects. We did, however, find a grocery store. For some reason that was pretty exciting to me. We were especially wide-eyed at the candy aisle. There were all kinds of goodies that we hadn't seen before, as well as a lot we had. We ended up with a few tasty treats and some much-needed shampoo and conditioner, then back to the hostel. Later that night Ben came back from his night on the town to tell us that he'd found some insects where he had been. Go figure.



We tried to keep the 22nd cheap by staying near the hostel. We met an incredibly nice girl from the Netherlands named Carlijn who spent some months in Australia and thus had an Australian accent. In fact, when I first met her I thought she was an Australian! Carlijn, Chuck and I all ended up taking the river taxi down a few stops to the Jim Thompson House. Jim Thompson was an American ex-pat who loved Thailand so much that he decided to live there and set up a silk factory. He eventually decided to make himself a home by taking six traditional Thai houses, have them dismantled, shipped to Bangkok, and then put them all together again to make one big house. The resulting house is quite beautiful with it's simple lacquered wood and surrounding lush garden. He then proceeded to get himself lost or eaten during a trek in the jungle, or perhaps he just up and secretly left for a new life. No one knows! All that's left of him are his famous silk factories and his house. The only way to see it is with a tour guide, which is included in the price of the ticket. Our guide was pretty a pretty cool Thai chick who had all her lines well rehearsed, right down to the jokes. She showed us one statue that they determined was made by a Chinese man because the eyes were slanted. As she said this she pulled back the corners of her eyes, apparently mimicking a Chinese person, and giggled. Seeing as the group was all white people we weren't sure whether it was actually appropriate to laugh at this because I think it would be considered racist in the West. Instead there was a bit of nervous laughter and sideways glances to check the reactions of the other people in the group. She told us that the reason there are six inch steps between rooms in many Thai houses is because it keeps bad spirits out. They're not able to get over the step because they slink along the ground rather than walk. At the end of the tour she showed us the large stingray that lives in one of the small pools outside the house. It was pretty random, that stingray. We relaxed at the hostel for much of the day, but went out again with Carlijn in the evening. Our mission was to find those bugs. We went to Soi Nana and to our surprise, found the insect vendor right there at the beginning of the road. Feeling very apprehensive we shuffled our feet a bit before finally asking for some of the grasshoppers, the crickets, and one giant cockroach. To my surprise he filled a little bag with many more grasshoppers and crickets than we were ever going to eat. Luckily the cockroach was sold in singles. He spritzed them all with a salty, soy-sauce spray before handing them over. Still feeling nervous about actually going through with eating them, we walked down the street passing by prostitutes and lady-boys as we went. We didn't want to just plop down and munch on grasshoppers in the middle of the busy-ness, so we kept going. We eventually decided that there were going to be some people nearby no matter where we stopped so we just chose a place and whipped out our bugs. And our cameras. First was a cricket. It took a few moments to build up to actually eating it, but all the fuss wasn't necessary. Being deep-fried they had lost whatever meaty chewiness they might have had and were more like hollow oil sponges. And the soy-sauce spray was quite salty, covering up any other flavors that might have been there. The overall flavor was a stale oiliness. Not good, but not horrid. The grasshopper was about the same, just a bit bigger. We got a bunch of photos to prove we had actually eaten them. Too soon it was the roach's turn. The roach had been my thing so it was all on me to eat the bad-boy. It took me a few moments to build up enough courage to just take him out of the bag. His stiff little legs and beady eyes were rather horrifying. I didn't know quite what to do and the three of us were standing around looking at the beast with nervous chuckles when a Thai woman walked by, made some sort of exclamation and laughed. We proudly held up our other baggies of bugs making her laugh some more and say something in Thai. I made motions as if I were pulling off the legs of my roach and looked at her questioningly. She nodded back and made the same motion in confirmation. A confused multi-language goodbye was said and she continued on her way, still looking quite amused. I was forced to turn my attention back to the roach. I plucked off a leg and seeing a bit of meat on the end, stuck that bit in my mouth and chewed it off. I tried to do it quickly and without thinking so I might avoid being too disgusted. It actually tasted a bit like dry chicken and that got my hopes up. Meanwhile, Chuck and Carlijn were making obligatory faces of disgust. I plucked the rest of the legs off. Seeing as the little bit I'd already tasted wasn't so bad I had an easier time plopping the roach in my mouth head first and tearing it in half. Yeah, it wasn't good. I mean, it wasn't hideously horrible, but it wasn't good. It was meatier than the other bugs, but the meat was dried out. The shell of the body was kind of like chewing on paper. There was still a bit of chicken taste, but it was accompanied by some other bitter, musky flavor. I opted not to eat the rest of the roach and handed it around for whoever else to try if they wanted. Chuck took a bite and thought just about the same thing that I did. We immediately ate a pack of mentos after that. All in all, a good experience and a tick mark on my "Things To Do Before I Die" list. Later that night when we went back to the hostel we offered our bags of leftover bugs to the guy who works the hostel at night. Not knowing what they were he leaned in for a closer look and suddenly jumped back as far as his chair would allow, a look of horror on his face. His laughter was almost fearful as he told us "No, no, no - I don't eat bugs!" It was pretty hilarious.

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New Delhi III

After leaving Ajmer we had to spend a few more days in New Delhi getting our Thailand visas together. Our hotel was happy to see us again and everyone gave us friendly, enthusiastic greetings. We also found out that the hotel has wireless. Since when, we do not know. They didn't have any working wireless internet when we checked in the first time! Better late than never though, right? So we were able to look up all our hotel and visa info for Thailand up in the comfort of our little room. We booked our plane tickets and made reservations at the cheapest and most decent looking place we could find, then printed out the visa applications. We tuk-tuked to the visa headquarters where the bored security guard seemed to think we were hardly any threat and let us through. We dropped our applications and passports off and that was that. A few days later - surprise! We had Thailand visas! Yay! It's always nice when things go according to plan.

As for interesting things that happened while we were there... Let's see... When we went to the bank to replenish our money supply we had to go through the usual little security point. The lady-guard checks ladies' belongings and the man-guard checks the men's. She glanced in my bag and nodded "Okay," but before I walked off she gave me a curious smile, looked at my lip ring while motioning to her lip and said "No problem?" I smiled back and said "No, no problem." Then I pointed at my nose and looked at her nose ring and said "No problem?" She just laughed. I thought it was pretty funny. We encountered the most aggressive beggars yet near our hotel one day. They were about 5 to 7 years old and dirty as a pig pen. They chat-chat-chat at you and follow behind you pulling on your clothing and hands or arms - anything they can tug. Of course, telling them "No" does not work. One of the kids followed us into our hotel, still on our heels and asking for money as we started up the stairs! As soon as the hotel staff figured out that we weren't actually trying to lure beggar children to our bedroom they quickly shooed him back outside. On another day we got to experience the post office. I had gotten a few Christmas-like presents for my family and I was long past due on sending them home. Once we found the post office we were directed to a place on the complete other side of the building to get a box for our stuff. It was just a little corner-shop that sold random things, but one of the random things was old boxes that they had received their goods in. I was very happy to be using recycled packaging! They packed all my stuff in it and taped down all the edges, then we headed back to the post office where we were once again directed somewhere else to have the box "stitched." This part was very cool - a guy took our box and wrapped a big piece of beige fabric around it and proceeded to stitch up all the edges using some thick thread and a huge needle. He was quite fast and was done in less than 10 minutes. And the package looked so cool! It kinda looked like an actual present now! Then I wrote the address directly on the fabric with black permanent marker, glued a packing slip to the back, and sent it on its merry way. I thought it was a fun way to package something. That's about it for what we did while we were in Delhi. We mostly relaxed and got a few things done.





On the 17th we check out of the hotel and taxied to the airport to catch our flight to Thailand. Getting in the airport turned out to be a pain because we hadn't printed our tickets out before hand. We were sent to about four different offices and buildings before someone managed to pull our info up on an incredibly ancient computer and print us a little ticket slip. Of course, once in the airport we still had to stand in line to get our actual tickets and we still had to go through security. I don't know why they don't just let people in the airport. Whatever. It wasn't until this point that I suddenly realized I didn't have my bangles. In a slow wave of growing sadness I realized I had left them on the bureau back at the hotel. There was no way we could go back and get them. They were lost! I had spent so much time and effort in looking for just the right bangles only to leave them in a newspaper-wrapped tube on the dresser. I was so completely disappointed! But we boarded our plane and the closer we got to Thailand the less upset I became. Bangkok, here we come!

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Ajmer

We arrived in Ajmer, India around noon on the 7th. We did our usual tuk-tuk song and dance and ended up at the hotel without much problem. The hotel ended up being a bit problematic because they booked us into the 2100-rupee-per-night room which was much more than we wanted to pay. They reluctantly switched us into the 1200 rupee room when we said something though. The bed in the room was incredibly hard. It was basically a wooden platform with a thin straw mattress on top, all covered by bed sheets. I actually developed a bruise on my hip from sleeping on my side the first night, because it was so hard. The food was just mediocre and it turned out they had no internet, contrary to their claims online. We were told we could go to the internet cafe next door though, so that's what we did. The owner - or whoever he was - seemed to think we were hardly worth spitting on and just said "No" without a glance in our direction when we asked if we could use our own laptop. We tried to offer more money if he would just let us use our own laptops, but all he said was "No" as he read the paper. I certainly wasn't willing to use his computers to check my email and other personal sites since our experience had shown that pretty much all internet shops use key loggers and steal your passwords and info. So we frustratedly went back to the hotel to ask if there were any other internet shops in town. We were directed down the street to a place about a kilometer away. After the 10 minute walk we discovered that they were completely busy and there was no room for us. So we left in annoyance at not getting our internet fix for the day!

We woke early to the sounds of the lovely "hotel alarm clock" on the 8th. There was an insistent hammering going on, accompanied by an occasional slamming door and a phone that rang constantly down the hall. We tried to just sleep through it but eventually we gave in and just got up. I suppose it was a good thing because it enabled us to get out and do our sightseeing while the day was still young. The plan for the day was to go to the nearby town of Pushkar. It's a town of many temples and many backpackers. We decided to go the cheap route and try to take the bus there instead of hiring a taxi. We certainly didn't see any bus stops where we were told they were supposed to be - I suspect you just wave your arm and hope the bus sees you. But we didn't even know what bus number we would need to look for and were too nervous to just wave down every bus that came by. So we kept walking, and by luck happened up a bus station of sorts. It looked more like a dirt lot where buses went to die, but a local guy grudgingly told us that one of the buses did indeed go to Pushkar. He threw a rock at the bus to show us which one. We stood around next to bus for a bit feeling extremely nervous about getting on a bus where we would be the only white people in a crowd of people who just might never have seen a white person in their life. Or maybe we were nervous about not being able to know when we were in Pushkar. Or maybe we were afraid of making some inexcusable faux pas. Looking back I'm not exactly sure why we were so afraid to get on the bus, but we were! Finally, we took a deep breath and climbed on. We were stared at, of course, but once we were seated everyone went back about their business. Taking that first step of just getting on and sitting down alleviated quite a bit of our nerves. There was still the matter of getting off at the right stop though. We'd handle that one later. Once the bus pulled out of the lot 20 minutes later we paid our 10 rupees per ticket to the ticket collector and tried to keep our shocked delight contained. We would have paid over 600 rupees if we had hired a car to take us! We were getting there for 10 rupees! Amazing. We drove by a group of languar monkeys who were lounging on the road-side in the mountains which I thought was fantastic. Before we knew it they were calling out "Pushkar" and we found ourselves standing in the middle of a dirt road wondering where the best temples were. Actually, the first thought was about where to get some food. That was pretty easy though, seeing as there were a bunch of fruit vendors right across the road. We got a couple of bananas and I gave Chuck a withering look when he threw his peel on the ground. A cow wandered over and sucked it right up though, so I decided it would be better for the cows if I littered my banana peel as well. Those poor things will eat anything. We did end up in a dark, empty restaurant-shack 10 minutes later though. It was an interesting experience because when we walked up to the place and asked the guy sitting out front if it was open he told us "Yeah, ok." Then he went to one of the back tables and woke up the cook! I felt a badly that we had ruined the guys sleep, but he was cheery as anything. He happily read us the small menu since it was only written in Hindi, and got to work warming up the stove and prepping vegetables. When we were finished he told us how to get to the popular Brahma Temple and off we went. It wasn't long before an old, disheveled man caught pace with us. He slurred out something along the lines of "Do you want to smoke with me?" to Chuck. He was rather creepy so Chuck declined, not to mention that it might not be a good idea to accept smokes from random people who are obviously quite out of it. This did nothing to dissuade the old man though and he continued to shuffle along just behind us mumbling and slurring about smoking and god knows what else. Chuck told him "No thanks" a few more times but he just wouldn't get a clue. It wasn't until I turned to him and said loudly "No thank you" that he shambled off in another direction. Then we got to fight off the camel-ride sellers, but they weren't nearly as much of a pain as the old man. I suppose I can't blame them though - that's how they make their money. It's a tough life out there in India so being pushy is sometimes a necessity. When we finally made it to the Brahma Temple the town had changed from shacks to tourist shops, complete with the stereotypical swarm of "backpackers." For some reason we find this phenomenon mildly annoying. While we were walking around the other, more dilapidated parts of town we were the only white people around. As soon as we hit the tourist oasis we're suddenly surrounded by those hippie-bohemian backpackers who seem have an air of superiority because of their low-maintenance, adventure-seeking style of travel, when in reality they all go to the same places and do the same things and stick to the safety and comfort of the well-known "backpacker" locations. However, I know this probably isn't the case at all and that just because we suddenly saw 10 times more of this style of traveler in Pushkar than we did in all of India combined it doesn't mean they are really all just cookie-cutters. Maybe I'm just jealous of their flowing, comfortable-looking bohemian designer clothes. Okay, okay - I'm just being a butt-head. Just like with any other "group," I know there are kind and genuine travelers who fall into that style as well as some not-so-genuine people. It's just that I somehow managed to develop a pet peeve for the hippie backpacker. But let's move on with our day in Pushkar! So! After a delicious fresh pineapple juice and a few snacks at a nearby restaurant, we ventured over to the entrance to the Brahma Temple. We're told "No cameras" and "No bags." There are a few stands around offering oh-so-graciously to watch our belongings while we go inside though. We didn't like that idea though, so Chuck volunteered to stay outside while I scoped it out. If it was worth it then we would trade so he could see inside. Unfortunately, it was so not worth it. It wasn't even worth the short climb up the stairs to get in. The famous blue colors were faded and chipped and there were peddlers of all kinds scattered about. I wasn't up there more than five minutes before I decided I was done. Chuck decided that he didn't need to see it for himself and we moved on. We walked through the tourist areas and past all the shops which gave me lots of chances to buy new bangles! I ended up getting a couple from three different shops and was quite happy with my little collection. We also stopped into a couple of other, smaller temples that were covered in mirrors. I thought they were much nicer than the Brahma Temple, not to mention that the peaceful atmosphere of the mirrored temples was much more enjoyable. We walked past a lot of temple actually. Pushkar is, after all, one of the most sacred towns in India. We made kissy noises at one of the stray dogs and he got very excited, so this time we actually bought the animal some food. Chuck got a pakora or something and gave it to the him. He sniffed it for a moment, decided he didn't know what to do with it, and looked back up at us with a curious stare. We thought that perhaps he didn't realize it was tasty food, so Chuck picked it up and broke a piece off. Once again the dog sniffed and turned his nose up at it. Ungrateful beast! We paid a good $0.30 for him to have a snack and he wouldn't have anything to do with it! We were patient though and with a bit of cajoling and convincing we managed to get him to down a couple pieces of it. After that we just tossed the rest on the ground and let him figure out what he wanted to do with it. Silly dogs. It was at about this time that we decided we'd better find out where the bus back to Ajmer was since the sun was getting ready to go into it's final death throes. How convenient that the bus stand happened to be just down the road from us! And when we found the bus waiting there we asked a respectable looking man if it was indeed the bus to Ajmer. Why yes, it certainly was. His English was very good and he seemed to be an educated man. When he asked where we were from we told him "Canada" just for fun. For some reason we had decided that morning that we would tell everyone we met that we were from Canada - don't ask why cause I don't really know. So, from Canada we were. We rode next to him on the bus and chatted for the length of the ride. We even chatted through the traffic jam that was caused by a large group of languar monkeys who didn't want to move out of the way (oh those crazy monkeys). He was in the textile industry and frequently traveled to north-western Africa which I found interesting. And the best part was that he never tried to sell us anything - he was just a genuinely nice guy who was interested in us. Back in Ajmer we tried to find internet again, but the place we went to would not allow us to use our own laptops. It was very frustrating! We went to bed internet-less, but at least we had a good day in Pushkar behind us.



On the 9th we were again woken by the ridiculous ringing of the phone, slamming of doors, and some sort of hammering. We went out for lunch to a place a ways down the road and it turned out to be quite delicious. We were mainly bored all day and just wanted to go back to Delhi. Later in the afternoon we got to listen to loud gun-shot-like noises and dracula music that was emanating from somewhere in our hotel. One can only imagine what that was all about...

On the 10th we were excited to pack everything up and check out. We got some snacks and walked to the same restaurant from the day before for lunch, backpacks strapped to our backs. I always feel so conspicuous walking around with my big backpack on, let alone plopping it down on the seat next to me like an extra little person in a restaurant. However, reality is never as bad as you make it in your head and no one gawked more than usual. After lunch we were off to the train station to wait for our train back to New Delhi. I practiced my drawing skills by sketching out the waiting room we were sitting in in my journal. It was more decent than I expected! The train ride itself was also quite an eventful one. Besides being stuffed to the brim with snacks, tea, soup, dinner, and ice cream (all included in the price of the ticket), there was a life and death scare. At about the time the soup was being served we suddenly heard a woman a few rows ahead of us saying her husbands name in an insistent manner. After a short moment her tone turned from insistent to panicked as she stood up and shook him. He wasn't waking up and it was, understandably, freaking her the hell out. It's heartbreaking and scary to hear that sense of panic in someone's voice - you can't help but imagine having to shout the name of someone you love in the same tone. The couple was traveling with a large group of their family and everyone immediately became concerned and rose to help her. Water was brought and the shaking continued and after a few moments he woke up in a sort of daze. I have no idea what was wrong with him, but everyone was immensely relieved. He was well taken care of by the family as they brought cold compresses and food. In fact, I couldn't help but notice that he was only taken care of by his family and friends. The train staff completely ignored the situation and went about doing their business of serving soups. They would squeeze themselves past the family members who were crowding the aisle trying to help the man, without stopping to offer help or do anything. I mean, they didn't need to really. He had more than enough people to care for him as it was, and I imagine that stopping the train and taking him to a hospital just wasn't an option. It was such a different reaction than you would see on a train in Europe or America though! There was a good end to the train ride though because we got to talk to the woman sitting next to us about her children in New Delhi and we got to play tic tac toe (or "zero koss" as he called it) with the incredibly intelligent eight year old boy who was sitting in front of us. He knew who the president and prime minister of India were, who the president of the US was, and could write our names in English, Hindi, and Chinese. We were flabbergasted! He shyly talked with us all the way to New Delhi.

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Jodhpur

We arrived at the Jodhpur train station to the typical clamour of tuk-tuks and hotel hawkers. As usual, we tried to avoid the drivers who were shouting "Where you go??" at us and opted for someone who wasn't so abrasive. The first guy we spoke to tried to convince us to go to a different hotel, but our second try was met with a quiet nod of aquiescence. The drive was very short so we were at our hotel within a matter of moments. At the reception desk we ran into a snag when they couldn't find our reservation. They searched and searched to no avail. Meawhile we filled out all the necessary paperwork and commenced to signing our souls away. They collect so much information from you whenever you check into a hotel: passport number, visa number, home address, previous hotel, next city, etc. It's a pain to fill it all out every time you switch hotels, but what can ya do? They managed to find us a decent little room and we left them to figure out the rest of the reservation confusion. Trying to find somewhere to eat dinner was frustrating because there seemed to be almost no restaurants nearby. There were plenty of small shops, but no food stalls. We ended up at a little place close to the train station where you didn't actually choose what you ordered. There was only one meal on the menu and if you sat at one of the six, dirty, small seats then that's what they brought you. It was a pretty good thali though, and the short scruffy owner had a friendly and pleased smile on his face as we enjoyed our food. On the walk back I got a small hint of what it might be like to travel alone in India as a female. Chuck managed to dash across the road before I realized there was an opening, so we were stuck on opposite sides of the street waiting for another lull in traffic. In the minute or so that I was standing there alone watching the traffic, two seperate men passed me and then stopped, turning to look at me with contemplative expressions. They didn't seem sinister - more like they were considering coming to my resuce or something. But if within thirty seconds on my own two men took that much interest in me, I was glad I had Chuck to travel with me.

On the 5th we headed out to the local fort: Mehrangarh Fort. We checked out the garden first. It was nice to see so much greenery for once! Rajasthan being the desert state and all, stretches of trees and plants weren't common. We were also stopped for photos with a few Indian guys. They were quite nice about it and I suppose we were getting a bit used to being asked to pose for photos, so we didn't mind much. After our glamour shots we opted to walk to the top of the fort where all the good stuff was rather than pay for the elevator ride that was available. There was a lot of Haveli-like architecture that was gorgeous, and a few decadent rooms containing thrones of different sorts. One room was filled with old ornate cradles and cribs that were quite interesting. After the fort we headed just down the road to the Jaswant Thada. While walking we passed by a couple of stray dogs and made our customary kissy noises at them - we love to do this and see their dirty little ears perk up at us. One dog however, got so excited that he hopped up and followed us almost the whole way, a distinct doggie-grin on his face the entire time! I felt so guilty at having led the poor bugger on and then not putting out... If only I'd had a sausage in my pocket. The Jaswant Thada consisted of a number of tombs, burials and a beautiful white temple. Inside the temple we discovered that we could see the sun shining through some of the white marble "bricks" that made up the walls. Chuck went outside and put his hand in front of one of the blocks of stone and I could see his shadow move across it from inside! They were thick chunks of stone too so it was kind of cool. Outside the temple was a young, smooth skinned boy playing a drum and singing in a high, clear voice. In fact, I thought he had such a nice voice and look that I decided to tip him and get a photo. He just smiled quickly and went on with his singing and drumming. The tuk-tuk ride back was a tad frustrating because the driver kept insisting he would take us to his friends textile shop. He only gave up when Chuck practically yelled at him that if he didn't take us to the central market then he would not be getting paid. That seemed to finally get the point across and he gave up on the textiles. From the market we got some food, looked for a bangle shop with no sucess, and finally went back to the hotel.



We were woken up by the sounds of young girls running up and down the halls on the 6th which greatly annoyed me. Turned out the hotel had apparently been taken over by a bunch of young highschool-aged girls, and young high-school aged girls are basically the same everywhere. They like to talk and giggle and gossip and make noise. We ended up talking a bit to some of the girls later in the day though - just the basics like "Where are you from?" and things like that. They were somewhat shy so the conversation was led by one bold girl who seemed to be having a silent power struggle with another nearby girl. She gave the girl some serious evil eye at one point. But it really seemed that they had the same inclinations as teenagers in the west: trying to look nice, gossiping, chatting, giggling, wrestling for power in the group, etc. It's more interesting to me when I notice the similarities between different cultures rather than the differences. It seems at times that there are more similarities between people across the world than differences. I haven't been to a lot of places so I obviously don't have an incredibly wide pool of observation to draw from, but I think I've seen a decent enough amount of the world to be able to start developing my little theories. Food though, can be very different and I am truely grateful for that! We had a fabulous set of three curries at the hotel restaurant for lunch that reminded me how tasty Indian food can be. My favorite was a sweet curry whose name I didn't remember unfortunately. Other than that, we hung around the hotel preparing blogs and being lazy. We hadn't been too impressed with Jodhpur so we weren't too motivated to go out and see the city. Besides, we have a soft spot for being lazy.

We woke bright and early on the 7th (why do Indian trains all have to leave so early in the morning??), packed up and checked out. We made our way to the station and found the train with no problems. I ended up sleeping for most of the train ride, so it was pretty uneventful by my recollections... Next stop: Ajmer.

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Bikaner

We woke up in the dark to the sound of our alarm at 4:30 AM. Our train was still chugging along and we were due to arrive in Bikaner at around 5:00 AM. It ended up being more like 5:30 when we got there, but at least we didn't miss our stop. We found a cheap tuk-tuk to our hotel, which ended up being further than we thought it was. When we presented ourselves in the reception area and announced that we had reservations they seemed to think we were a bit crazy. Apparently they didn't have any record of anyone arriving that day. We told them which website we had booked through and hoped that we wouldn't end up stuck without a place to stay. The hotel was full but for one lone room, which was supposed to have booked out the previous night, but the guests had never showed. I felt bad having arrived so early and taking someone else's room, but the manager very graciously fixed us up in there. First thing we did was sleep some more. Despite having a good sleep on the train we were still tired. Feeling a bit more refreshed, we went back downstairs to get ourselves sorted out a bit better. After talking with the owner a bit and checking my e-mail to find our confirmation number and all that, I finally realized what had happened. The guests who had been a no-show from the night before were us! I had accidentally booked us to arrive the night before, and of course - we were on a train. So the room we were in was the one that was meant for us anyways! It all worked out just as it was supposed to have. Once we figured that out, we were given the grand breakdown of the city and the hotel. The owner of the hotel is a retired Brigadier, and one of the family members won a silver medal in the 2004 Olympics for "shooting" as they put it. He showed us old black and white photos of camel-jumping that was done many, many years ago, and photos of the local gorgeous palaces. He was keen on completely filling us in about the town of Bikaner. We decided to visit the local fort known as Junagarh Fort. The tuk-tuks here were cheaper than New Delhi or Jaipur, and they apparently are happy to pick up multiple passengers at a time. The tuk-tuk we got in already had three people in it! Chuck sat in the small front seat, squished against the driver, and I sat on the metal bar that separates the front sea from the back. I was facing the three other passengers sitting this way - two young ladies and a larger gentleman. I nearly fell over as we pulled out into traffic and the girl right across from me grabbed on and helped me steady myself with a smile. She then asked where I was from. "America," I told her. "Can you take me America?" she asked, in all seriousness I think. Of course, I can't just bring people to America because I'm American, so I decided to tell her "If you come to America I will show you places." She put her hand on my knee and looked up at me with curiosity "Can I get a job there?" I told her that it can be hard to gets a job in America because there can be a lot of paperwork and waiting for foreigners, but that yes, she could get a job. When I later told Chuck about my conversation he pointed out that I might have just ruined all her dreams by making it sound difficult. I'd hate to make someone think it's impossible, but I also don't want to lead people to think that it's easy to find work in the States. I don't think it is easy for foreigners. She asked a few more questions about America, and I had to ask her to repeat just about every one because her accent was so thick and her English not quite spot on. But she was very sweet and I enjoyed talking with her. Our conversation ended rather abruptly when the tuk-tuk driver pulled up to their destination. The girls said goodbye quickly, paid the driver much less money than we've ever paid for a ride, and I never saw them again. I wonder if she'll ever make it to America! The driver continued on to the fort where we got off. Our fort tickets included a mandatory guided tour, which we were a little annoyed about at first. It's no fun if you get a bad tour, or aren't given time to explore the different areas, but our experience ended up being a good one. The tour group was about 20 people big, with four members who spoke no Hindi at all. The guide was very good though, and after delivering the information in Hindi he would take us four (me, Chuck, and two Italians) aside and repeat it in English. That's pretty good service if you ask me! Junagarh Fort was one of the nicest and most beautiful forts we saw. It had delicately carved, sandstone windows and balconies, lavishly decorated bedrooms and audience chambers, and some lovely painted ceilings. One room was covered in intricate gold-painted embellishments and had a large velvet sultan's throne on the floor, while the queens room had a window filled with thick red and blue stained glass. It was actually pretty, rather than being just a fort. We also got a kick out of our tour guide's awesome moustache, so Chuck got a picture with him just so we could admire it later if we so desired. After the fort we went to see the Lalgarh and Laxmi Palaces. They are now expensive hotels, but back in the early 1900's the Maharaja of Bikaner would have lived there. The palaces are more beautiful than the fort in the terms of architecture. The detailed carving of the windows and archways is so amazing and impossible to describe in words. And we were there close to sunset which made for deeper and more vibrant colors. We saw peacocks while there too! If you ever wondered, yes they can fly. One flew from the front lawn to the top of the palace rather easily. We didn't get to see any strutting their tail-feathers though. In fact, I think they had been clipped. I only noticed on one peacock, but it looked as though the "eye" at the end of all his feathers had been cut off. As we walked around the buildings we came across a big open door that led to an inner courtyard. We must have looked rather curious because a friendly, older gentleman came up to us and told us we were free to have a look around. He said they were setting up for a wedding that night. It must have been a family with a decent amount of money, because there were maybe three long food tables, a puppet tent, a stage, etc. I can only imagine what the wedding must have been like. And I think they had the actual ceremony was in the yard in front of the Laxmi Palace because when we went over that way we saw tons of chairs set up amongst pretty little pavilions. Must have been quite an affair! Since all we did was wander around the outside of the buildings it wasn't long before we were trying to find a tuk-tuk. Before going back to the hotel for the evening though, we asked if he knew where we could find a bhang shop (if you've been keeping up with my blogs you should know what this is). He says "Yes, yes, ok," and ushers us into his tuk-tuk. Of course, a few minutes down the road and he asks us where we want to go again. No one knows what bhang is, but no one is willing to turn down a ride. We try to explain it to him with hand signals and simple words, but the language barrier was just too much. He finally pulled out a phone and dialed a friend. After a few words he hands the phone to Chuck. "Uh, hello?" He speaks decent English and seems to know what we are looking for! Chuck explains everything to him and then hands the phone back. The driver's face lights with recognition as everything is translated to him. He hangs up and says to us with bright eyes "Bhang, bhang!" I finally see what the problem had been. We'd been asking for "bang" this whole time, when they pronounce it like "bong." He didn't know what "bang" was, but he seemed to know where to get some "bong." We might finally be onto something here! He drives us over to a nearby tobacco stand (these are all over the place in India - people love their red chewing tobacco stuff) and quickly tells the vendor what we're looking for. He pulls out a little brown ball wrapped in clear cellophane with yellow writing on it. Chuck gets four of them at one rupee a piece. On rupee! If this was truly a marijuana product, it was incredibly cheap! So, all of our hard work and persistence in trying to get our hands on this bhang stuff had finally paid off. But we were patient, and still needed to eat dinner. The tuk-tuk driver (the same guy who brought us to the bhang) dropped us off at the restaurant area of town and we chose a place to eat at random. It ended up being pretty good, and there was free entertainment as I watched a cute rat climb all over the empty soda bottles at the back of the restaurant. Ah, India. We grabbed some candies and deodorant quickly - we hadn't had any deodorant for a few weeks actually, and it was getting plain annoying. It was nice to find some. And finally back to the hotel. We cautiously unwrapped one of the little brown balls and inspected it closely. It really looked like a little ball of dung rolled in some sugar crystals. It smelled like it too. I broke it open to take a peek inside, but it was the same. Brown and dung-like through and through. We decided that I would go ahead and try one first. Chuck would wait a while to make sure that it didn't do anything terrible. It would be pretty bad if it ended up being some nasty poison and we were both laid out on the floor unable to call for help. So I worked up my courage and popped my broken bhang ball in my mouth. Bleh, it was not tasty. It not only looked and smelled like crap, but tasted like it too. It crumbled into bits as my mouth dried up with my sudden lack of appetite. I only managed to chew a few times before I decided to just wash it all down with a big swig of water. I tried to get rid of the flavor with a few gummy candies, and then I waited. After half an hour I noticed nothing going on. After a bit, Chuck decided to have one himself. We waited some more. We checked our email, id some facebooking, etc. A few hours later I maybe felt a bit more tired than usual, but I'm really not sure. We both ate a second one since nothing seemed to be happening. By bed time though, I still hadn't noticed any changes. Either it's really subtle stuff, or not strong enough, or not actually marijuana. Who knows! But we had finally managed to try it and we could knock bhang off our list.



On the 2nd, first thing we did was head out to the market for lunch. We asked that they make it spicy, and it ended up being really spicy. I could hardly eat it. Our request made the waiter happy though. After lunch we walked through the streets checking out what was going on and what was for sale. I knelt to look at some plastic bangles that were amongst the random goods that a dark-skinned woman was selling. She was on me like a shark on a juicy tuna steak! She pushed the bangles into my hands with an air of "you know you want them." The were much too small though. I couldn't possibly get them on my wrist, so I handed them back. This didn't stop her. She grabbed my hand and began forcing the bangles on, three at a time. I was in such shocked amazement that she was actually managing to get them on me that I didn't stop to think about what this would mean when I wanted to take them off. By the time she was done I realized that I was buying the bangles whether I wanted them or not. At least I managed to get them for 50 rupees instead of 100, although I think that was still an awesome deal for her. Oh well - I was in a good enough mood that I was able to laugh it off. She was very good after all! Once I had paid she said something in Hindi and motioned to a baby sleeping in a basket behind her. I had no idea what she wanted - more money maybe? I smiled with embarrassment as I tried to understand her. This went on for a few moments until she finally just laughed and kind of shooed me off. It was certainly an interesting encounter. We found an internet shop and while Chuck printed out some train tickets, I worked at trying to get at least one of the 12 bangles off my wrist. The edges were sharp and scraped against my skin as I tried my best to wiggle it over the bones in my hand. By the time I got just one off, my hand was swollen and red. It looked like I was stuck with the bangles until they broke off... We also met a young guy who lived in Bikaner at the internet shop. He started chatting with us and told us how best to get to the Bhandasar Jain Temple and said we should be sure to see the Havelis. We're so used to suspecting anyone who speaks to us of being a scammer that we weren't sure what his game was. But he never asked us for anything or tried to get us to go to his uncle's textiles shop or anything like that. I think he might have just been a nice guy interested in talking to us. We grabbed a tuk-tuk, asked him to take us to the temple, and agreed on 20 rupees for the ride. We would pass through the Havelis this way, so we would get the chance to see the beautiful architecture. Instead of driving us through the Havelis, our tuk-tuk stopped and had us get out. He made some hand motions at us and tried to tell us something but we didn't understand. He finally had his buddy take off down the road in the tuk-tuk and he walked us through the Havelis, pointing at the lovely buildings. It was very strange really. I don't know why he felt the need to have us walk through there rather than drive. I mean, sure, it would be nice to walk around the area - but not when we're on the way to the temple and not with our random tuk-tuk driver. I suppose he was giving us a little tour? It was a short walk - maybe 30 yards -and at the end was the tuk-tuk, waiting for us. We jumped back in, the driver took over again, and off we went to the temple. We passed through some incredibly narrow alleys that were full of locals and non-touristy shops. We even got in a traffic jam with a slow-moving camel that was hauling a wooden cart. Bikaner had a lot of camels being driven around the whole city, some carrying huge loads on their carts. Loads that would have been too big to fit through the narrow roads we were driving through at the moment. I got the impression that it was a part of town that was actually lived in. It was pretty cool. We did get a lot of stares though, which is always unnerving. Once we reached the temple and started fumbling for our money, the driver said "50 rupees," with a smile on his face. I wasn't really surprised at this, given that he walked us through the Havelis. I've found that people will practically force you into doing something that you figure they are doing out of the goodness of their heart, only to find out that they're coercing you into a state of obligation in order to squeeze more money out of you. We weren't having any of that though. Chuck told him "It's 20 or nothing," and started to walk away. He decided to take the 20. It's all the principle of the matter and not the money itself. I don't like being tricked out of my money. If I agree to a price, then that's what the price needs to be. If I choose to give more because I thought the guy was fabulous or maybe even felt sorry for him, then I'm happy to give extra! But doing extra work and then demanding more money is not okay in my book. I was half inclined to give the guy a bit more until he demanded 50 rupees. As you can tell, I was rather annoyed at the situation. So! We headed towards the gate surrounding the temple only to be told by a group of young guys in marching band outfits that the temple was in the other direction. I clearly saw the sign in front that said "Bhandasar Jain Temple," but I thought that perhaps there was a back entrance, so we followed their direction. This led us directly into a playground of some sort where we were immediately set upon by about 10 kids. As soon as they saw us come around the corner they dropped what they were doing and came running towards us as they yelled happily. They all wanted to shake our hands and ask us our names and how we are doing. I could see their minds working to pick out the correct English phrase they were wanting to use, and they would pause to process our answers. But man, they were excited. A few of them didn't take long before asking for money, which we refused with smiles of course. At about this point a man on a bike came around the corner to our rescue. The way he interacted with the kids was interesting. He basically swatted at them and told them in a nasty tone not to touch him. "Don't mind the stupid kids," he told us. Okay... It was very different from how I was used to interacting with children, that's for sure. But he seemed to know where the Bhandasar Jain Temple was, and was more than happy to lead the way. Of course, he led us right back the way we had come, up to the gate that I had been about to walk through earlier. So I guess I had been right to begin with. Marching band members must be trouble all over the world, with their bad directions and crazy hats. We took off our shoes before stepping into the inner courtyard and were greeted by a white haired and moustached man who seemed to be the overseer of the temple. He kindly and calmly walked us around the building pointing out the numerous paintings of heaven and hell, and telling us about how butter was used to mix the cement rather than water. Supposedly the temple sweats greasy butter on a hot day because of this. It seems a farfetched, yet wonderful story to me. He motions us upstairs to look around on our own and shuffles back to the garland-weaving. We emerged from the stairwell to a bird-poo slathered second story, open to the elements. The carved, white "spire" of the temple rose up from the middle of the platform and we were free to walk around it and take in the views of the city. We snapped a few pictures from each vantage point and then headed back downstairs. The temple priest was contentedly working on his garland and seemed quite happy to let us leave without paying the camera fee, but we like to try to be good people and paid him the 30 rupees plus an extra 20 as a tip. It was a nice change to not feel like we were being hounded for our money for once. The next stop was at Savibari Temple, which was closed to my dismay. I couldn't read the sign on the front gate since it was in Hindi, but I deduced from the layout of the numbers that it was open only in the morning and evenings. Just our luck, we were there in the middle of the afternoon. Our tuk-tuk driver was pretty awesome though and ran across the street to a tobacco shop - the only other structure to be found in that barren part of town - and asked them if there was some way we could get in. They must have told him that we could go around the side of the temple and through a construction area, because that's just what he did. He exchanged some words with the workers who, after a few moments, let us through with a shrug. We weren't able to go in the temple itself, but we at least got to walk around the courtyard area and see it from the outside. We could see a bit of the ceiling from the back side of the building and it looked like it was probably quite pretty inside. Oh well! Back to the hotel after that. We ordered in dinner and talked with the manager for a bit - otherwise it was a nice and boring evening.



We got ourselves a private taxi to take us to Deshnok and the local camel research farm on the 3rd. The driver spoke zero English, but he had been briefed by our hotel guy so the only problem was an inability to make conversation. The drive to Deshnok - where the Karni Mata Rat Temple is located - was a 30 minute long stretch of highway bordered by dusty, tan desert sand. It was also quite frightening. I think our driver got a thrill out of seeing us flinch. He swerved quickly around a cow in the middle of the highway at one point, causing Chuck to exclaim out loud. I swear I saw a little smirk cross his face at that moment. He would pass long stretches of cars in one go, and would pull back into the correct lane when the oncoming cars were too close for my comfort. We saw a few camel-drawn carts along the way, trudging slowly along the shoulder of the road. I remember one cart in particular because it was piled, literally, 20 feet high and 10 feet wide with a giant mass of burlap covered goods. It was all tied down with ropes crisscrossing over and under and around the giant package, tying it to the much-too-small cart. It was a comical sight - something you would see in a cartoon rather than real life. But there it was, complete with a smiling camel slowly dragging the massive contraption down the road. Within half an hour we had arrived in the fairly tiny town of Deshnok and were dropped off just outside the Disney-esque plaza that is home to the Karni Mata Rat Temple. I can't pinpoint exactly why we were reminded of Disney, but something about the various tourist-focused vendors positioned on the edges of the plaza, the fence surrounding the temple, complete with metal detector, and the loads of white people were reminiscent of a theme park. I think we may be the only ones that would make that association though. So! We took off our shoes and delivered them to the shoe-cubby stand, then made our way through the metal detector (I really think most of the ones in India are non-operational) and to the entrance of the temple. The marble facade that surrounded the front gate was absolutely beautiful! The flowers, leaves, and birds were deeply carved into the white stone, creating a very different atmosphere from the one that we would encounter once inside. Oh, while I was standing in front of the temple having Chuck take my photo a group of three young Indian guys dressed in trendy clothing decided they wanted to be in our photos. They didn't have a camera of their own - they just wanted to be in our pictures. So I got a picture with each of them and then they went on their way, laughing and smiling. Such a strange request to my mind, but cool to have pictures with these random guys! Inside it is immediately apparent why the place is called the Rat Temple. They critters are crawling on and around the door as you come in, scampering about on the tile floor, and lined up around the bowls of thick milk that are set out for them. There were even some resting in the loops of iron that made up the fence that led to the shrine at the back of the temple. The floor was littered with these yellow crumbs of some sort - it must have been some sort of rat food because the rats would occasionally munch a piece. They were definitely well-fed with their big bowls of milk and yellow crumbs. The only real danger for them was each other. We saw a few rat fights as we were walking around, and one apparently dead rat. Ick. I was lucky enough to have a rat scamper across my bare foot as he raced across the room! I heard that it's good luck if that happens. So lucky me, yay. It wasn't so lucky when we went towards the back room where the shrine was though. We followed the crowded line towards the dark doorway at the back of the temple and with everyone laughing or flinching at all of the rats there was a fairly light atmosphere. I stepped over the doorway and wondered what the fellows on the floor were doing with the flowers and bowls and maybe some incense. Suddenly they were shouting and Chuck and me! It took me just a second to realize they were telling us to get out. "Indian only! Indian only!" He stood up and physically shooed us out, forcing us through the crowd behind us. I was so shocked and bewildered by the situation that my mind wasn't able to process anything for a few moments. I just wanted to get out of the crowd and away from the people and figure out what had happened. Indians only. My conclusion, once I was able to think about it all, was that the shrine area at the Rat Temple was sacred enough that you must be Indian to see it. What if you're an albino Indian? Or a white person adopted by an Indian family and raised with all the Indian customs and ways? (I know that situation is probably far-fetched, but you never know). Or what if you're an extremely devout white or black or east asian Hindu? I felt so embarrassed and ashamed, and I hadn't even done anything that was actually wrong! I was "wrong" for reasons I had zero control over. I was respectful - I was wearing an Indian-like top and had my scarf covering my head. But I was still wrong. I have to say, it's one thing to imagine and know that racism or "exclusion based on race" is painful an unpleasant, but it's another to experience it and be shooed out of a place for no reason other than the color of your skin. I can not imagine how it must have felt to be a black person in the American south back in the 1930's, or a Jewish person in England in the 1400's, or a South Asian living in Bahrain or UAE in the 21st century. It was quite an upsetting experience to have, but I'm glad I encountered it in the end. It's always good to get a little taste of the unpleasant things in life. I am quite aware that I did not experience anywhere near the degree of prejudice that some people in the world have to live with on a daily basis, but it was a new and powerful experience for me personally. After that, of course, I wasn't too keen on sticking around at the temple. I put on a brave, unaffected face and we wandered around the last few bits of the temple courtyard and then left. On the way to the car we were accosted by an old-woman beggar who followed us. She was still talking to us as after we had climbed in the vehicle and whatever she was saying made our driver laugh out loud. She was probably calling us dirty names or something! I wish we could have asked him what she said, but the lack of any English on his part and any Hindi on ours made that impossible. Oh well. We took another frightening drive to our next stop: the Camel Research Farm. There was a small charge for the entry and camera, but I thought it was well worth it. The farm is set up like a zoo and research facility combined. I suppose this makes perfect sense since that's exactly what it is. We wandered towards the back of the complex where an employee approached us to let us know that the camels would be trekking back in from the desert at any moment now. He told us where the best views were and offered a camel ride. We weren't interested in camel rides though - we'd already done that in Egypt. What I really wanted was to see the camels charging in from the desert! While we waited we wandered around the various enclosures at the facility. I love the sounds that the camels make - like an enormous belch from a clogged sink. It's quite a noise and can't really be explained in words. There was a pen where the babies and their mothers were being kept. They were so cute with their messy, fuzzy coats and their awkwardly long legs. We walked by the "stud" pen which must home the most studly of the camels. So attractive that they have to keep them separated from the rest of the crowd for fear they'll be molested by raunchy lady-camels, or attacked by jealous gentleman-camels? Hmmm. Soon enough though, we noticed the first of the camels trotting back from the dusty desert. By the time we positioned ourselves in a good spot they were flooding through the gates and making their way into their pens. Ia was amazed that there was no human herder guiding them and that they just knew exactly where to go. I'm sure the fact that their pens contained trough fulls of food helped though. A few hundred camels came through by my estimation, and we were told that there would be two more herds before the day wads through. They certainly have a lot of camels at that facility. On the way out I had to bravely try a camel-milk ice cream! Let me tell you, it was quite tasty. It had a thick, rich flavor and a very creamy texture. Kind of like the "fudge" of ice cream - so rich you can't eat too much at once. Very good in my opinion. That was it for the Camel Research Farm! We went to the market for dinner after that. We met a nice man while we were out, who showed me a good shop to buy bangles at. He was a well-educated guy who never offered us any textiles or mentioned his brothers shop or anything. That's a rare find in India - someone who's not trying to sell you something. At the shop I picked out a few bangles I liked and attempted to barter. I'm not very good at bartering, so the man we met suggested a starting price to me in Spanish. The shop owner refused to budge on his price at all though, so I ended up leaving bangle-less. I thanked the man who had tried to help and he shrugged, almost apologetically at the stubbornness of the shop keeper. We parted ways and grabbed a tuk-tuk back to the hotel. On the tuk-tuk we were joined by a random young man who seemed quite interested in foreign English-speakers. His English was very good and he seemed to just want to talk with us out of curiosity, or maybe just to practice his English. Bikaner is an interesting place.



On the 4th we packed up and checked out. The hotel manager was nice enough to give us a ride to the train station where we were able to immediately board our train. The train took off in a timely manner and we were on our way to Jodhpur. There were a few families on the train, which included a couple little kids. Once little boy in particular was incredibly adorable. Every time he walked by our bunks he would look over at us with a bit of curiosity. Maybe it's creepy, but we just had to get a picture of his cuteness, so Chuck got out the camera. The kid seemed really interested in the camera and came over to investigate. He ended up taking all sorts of random pictures with our camera, pressing the button and flipping it around in his hands as Chuck kept his hand firmly wrapped around the neck strap. He was pretty interested to see himself show up on the little digital display screen on the back. He was really cute. There was another little girl who liked to pay a game where she would stare at us and then dart back behind the seats when we spotted her. After about five minutes, I have to admit, it got old... But she was having fun I guess. And then there was the father of one of the families. He took an interest in us and sat down to chat. He told us about how he and his 16 family members have lived in Mumbai for 25 years now, and they all work in the same family business. He was from Bikaner originally and they had all recently visited his family that was still living there. He raved about a sweets shop in Bikaner and then promptly disappeared for a few moments. When he came back he was carrying a paper box filled with a mess of orange strings of fried dough. He insisted we try some, so we nervously each took a chunk of the funnel-cake-like, sticky sweet. It was still warm. I took a bite and found that it was pretty tasty! I gobbled down all the rest of it, even though there was the slight possibility that it was poisoned, designed to knock us out so we could be robbed. Ah, how fear-filled the world has become. It turned out to be just regular sweets being shared by a regular, friendly guy. Good train trip.

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