Indian Hospitality

Delhi is a fantastic place. It's immaculate and the temperature never gets above 65 degrees. No one smokes here and it smells like clean laundry. The people smile constantly and they cheerfully bring you anything you might need, at any time of the day or night. The internet is free and there's an endless supply of mashed potatoes and chocolate cake.

And when I say Delhi, I mean the lovely tourist hospital where I've spent the majority of my waking hours for the past 10 days.

Susan arrived from Kathmandu with a nasty wound on her leg which turned out to require an extended visit to the East West Medical Center in Greater Kailash I, a posh southern district.

Kenna and I pretended we were there to keep her company but it was much more about the A/C, HBO, and cute doctors.

The full story can be found on Susan's blog.

I always suspected she was a tough cookie but now I'm thoroughly convinced. She handled the pain, fear, and monotony with tremendous dignity and I'm very proud to be her friend.


On a happier note...

Susan is out of the hospital now and we're going to do the mandatory Taj Mahal day trip tomorrow. In a few more days, she'll get the stitches out and we'll head north to Himachal Pradesh. It should be much cooler there, praise Shiva.

I'm excited to be leaving Delhi but we have seen some beautiful places here. Most of the temples and monuments have been surprisingly free of western tourists. It's primarily Indian tourists from all across the country and they treated me and Kenna like movie stars, asking to have their photo taken with us.

More Delhi Photos

Spicy

Kenna met me in Lumbini after meditation boot camp was finished. "You seem really happy," she remarked. It was glorious to be back out in the world but I also felt nervous about our overland trip to Varanasi.

I had my final Nepali pee in a smelly box filled with flies. We crossed into the new country on foot and the differences invaded our senses - more smells, more trash, more touts, more color, more people, more hassles. Welcome to India.

We took a crowded public bus most of the way to Gorakhpur before being dumped unceremoniously on the side of the road with all our luggage. They loaded about twenty of us into an autorickshaw. My newfound equanimity was severely tested as I found myself wedged into a teeny seat with three bags on my lap and a small child between my knees. Kenna was only partially inside the vehicle and her right leg was nearly sheared off at one point by a passing truck.

Our first train ride of the trip was the eight hour Heat n' Dust Special to Varanasi. We had sleeper seats, which were roomy but very firm. The fella lounging on the seat across from us kept his predatory gaze fixed on us for the entire ride. I made a mental note to acquire a kaftan as soon as possible.

We stayed in India's holiest city for a week, despite 100+ degree temperatures and excrement of various origins on every surface. It was a fascinating place but the smell of urine, rotting garbage, and burning bodies was oppressive in the stifling air. Our guest house was directly next door to the Manikarnika "Burning" Ghat where most of the cremations take place so we definitely saw more than our share of dead bodies on their way to the pyre.

Ghat means "steps" and there are certainly plenty of 'em in Varanasi. Every trip to and from the guest house involved at least 400 of the knee-killers. The narrow back alleys of the old city are filled with cows, motorbikes, and young men offering to show you the way to their silk factory. One of these boys told me he loved me but when I told him I was 34, he faded back into the maze of chai shops.

Our secret to staying sane in the spicy atmosphere was the swimming pool at the Hotel Surya. We spent several blissful afternoons there, lounging in the shade of a canvas tent. Our friend Jim came with us one day and he couldn't believe we hadn't left the city limits. Jim's a guitar-playing bohemian from Austin and he introduced me to the magic of a 40 rupee Thali (all-you-can-eat lentils, veg curry, rice, and chapati). The food is generally mango-licious and ghee-tastic so I've gained about ten pounds on the Indian subcontinent. Thank goodness for kaftans.

More Varanasi Photos