New Things

As with most things in life, practice makes perfect, and as a result i'm slowly perfecting my blogging situation so that its easiest for me, and as accessible to you as possible. So I have a new website through mobileme. Hopefully this will work best. So from now on, check that website instead of this one.

Belly Man

This weekend was my trip to Haridwar/Rishikesh. While we were still in Delhi a few weeks ago, i browsed my lonely planet to find out cool trips that i could go on while i was in Mussoorie. Rajaji National Park (A tiger and elephant preserve), and Rishikesh became my primary travel objectives. Because we were in Yamunotri last weekend, this weekend was when the objective would be executed. Unfortunately, Rajaji is mostly closed at this time of year, so our plans changed to leaving Mussoorie friday afternoon, spending that night and half of saturday in Haridwar (another holy city like Rishikesh), and then the rest of our weekend in Rishikesh. After doing my research (talking to my hindi teachers), i found out that the best way to travel around was by bus, because it costs about 30 rupees (20 cents) per bus ride. Other groups ended up taking taxis that cost 3,000 rupees (about 60 bucks) round trip! So after school, Camden and i told our travel group (Rachel, Katie, Becca, and Emilie) that we'd meet them at the bus stop downtown. We were in the mood for a very rare delicacy in India, the infamous Burger. The closest thing we found to a real burger was at a fast-food chain called Nirulas, where i got a chicken burger, and then an incredible hot fudge sundae.

The buses we ride are thin aluminum shells with 40 or so seats in them, and bars lining the roof above the asile, for people to hold on to. Luckily our bus wasn't too crowded, and i got a window seat, where i quickly developed the bad habit of sticking my head out of the bus, seeing as i was above all of the traffic, and could easily duck my head back in if needed. Like every way in and out of mussoorie, the drive was fast, windy, ridiculous. I've already tried to convey how crazy the driving is in India, but there really are no words to describe it (hopefully i'll get my videos up soon). A few people got sick because of how fast the driver would go around the switchbacks. An hour and a half of that, and we ended up in Dehrdun, the city at the base of the mountains. We got dropped off at the railway station, and had to get to the bus station. How should we travel the 7 kilometers quickly? Auto rickshaw of course. Ridiculous, ridiculous auto rickshaw. The two rickshaws that we needed to take decided it would be a good idea to race each other in the dense traffic of Dehradun. Except for a couple of near-death experiences, we got to the bus station safely, plus our rickshaw won!

The next bus to Haridwar was pretty uneventful, except for a few awkwardly phrased signs. Instead of taking the rickshaws pressed upon us by the copious amounts of drivers, we decided to walk the 2 km into town. It's amazing how you can get around in a foreign city, in India just by pointing and saying "hotel?". We also had the added point of interest of the Ganges, so "Ganga" was introduced into our barbarian-like communications. Finally after our over-heated wanderings we find Hotel Swagat Palace, a hotel recommended by Lonely Planet. The guy originally wanted 1 room, 3 beds and air conditioning for 900, but after a bit of haggling, we ended up paying 700 for the 6 of us.

At the prompting of the stomach rumbles of hungry travelers, we went searching for a restaurant that wouldn't necessitate mass amounts of immodium afterwards. Choti Vala was recommended by two of my hindi teachers, so after a quick walk alongside both auto and bike rickshaws, and hordes of shopkeepers yelling "hello serh" as if it was the most compelling thing in the world, we sat down and ate some food - I had the best garlic naan of my life. On the walk back we, like large mosquitoes, saw a bunch of bright lights and were drawn to them. Turns out that it was some sort of holiday in the local ashram (hindu temple), and because white people are never ignored in India, we were sucked into the rituals of the place. These included paying our respects to the heroes Rama and Sita, accepting gifts of sugar (kind of like rock candy) and mangoes, and then being sat down in the large hall amongst 100's of other people who were eating a meal being served by people walking around with buckets of food. The words "no", or "I just ate dinner" meant absolutely nothing to these people, who made it clear that it was holy to eat the questionable food being served to us, and we had to. All of this interaction was amidst the loud hum of music and many people's voices, along with the hordes (and i do not use this term lightly) of people coming up to us asking, "where from?", shaking our hands, taking our pictures, and just smiling dumbly at us.

I've begun to take pictures of everybody taking pictures of us, and for this weekend, i'm up to 9, and thats just the ones that i was able to get my camera out for. What is so interesting about is i don't know, nor can i fathom what will be done with a picture of me making a ridiculuous face. Will they show it to their friends? Will they publish it on the website Lookatthatwhiteperson.com which i secretly suspect exists for all of India? I don't know. Anyways, the next day we got up at 730 to go to the ganges and preform Puja. Puja is an indian custom, where you worship a god, and then get that red dot on your forehead. It's especially cool to do on the Ganges, where you buy bowls of flowers and send them down the river. Camden and I bought some flower bowls and had a guy help us do puja, where we splashed ourselves with the water, put flowers in our hand, put water on the flowers, and then throw them down the river. Repeat. The only thing i didn't do was drink the water, which was a dark brown color - much like hot chocolate. After making a generous donation to the man, he put a bindi (red dot) on my forehead. Then he got really excited and put another one above the current one, a dot on each of my ear lobes, and line across my throat. Camden got the same treatment. Later we realized just how much the bindi stains, because my throat bindi is still there, 2 days and multiple washings afterwards.

After puja, we began to draw a crowd of indian people who had also just done the same thing. They LOVED Emilie, and tried taking many picitures with her. Being the nice girl that she is, Emilie didn't resist too much, and submitted to being pushed, pulled, and crowded around. Eventually we all were requested to be photographed, and the mayhem began. There was this one man, whom we refer to as "the belly man", who never really smiled, had a near-bald head, and was wearing only his boxers. We call him the belly guy because he had a perfectly round belly. He made an effort to be in the middle of every photo, and in every single one, he's exactly the same: standing awkwardly in his boxers, with both his belly and his eyes staring directly into the camera. I've uploaded a picture of him for your viewing pleasure.

Too much to write so I'll leave you with that beautiful image - more soon.

Hangin around

For many years the EAP group from california has come to Mussoorie for a month to intensively study Hindi at the Landour language school. As a result, the locals of Mussoorie have gotten to know when its that time of year again, and a few of them have gotten to know past students. This is our relationship with Bir. Bir is a 23 year old Sikh who helps run his family internet cafe in downtown Mussoorie. Bir's a homie.

He has a huge house with a ping pong table right next to where we are staying, and is happy to show us around Mussoorie and help us out in any way. It was Bir who introduced me to that beautiful food called momos, and it was he who i dub an american hero, considering how he got us fireworks (and 35% off) for that most patriotic of american holidays. Seeing as I've been an active member of the Jewish summer camp community for the past 10 years of my life, I haven't gotten to celebrate the 4th of July in a long time. Thanks to Bir, we got a bunch of fireworks for 2000 rs, which is about 40 bucks.

This weekend we're planning a trip to Rajaji National Park, as well as Rishikesh. Rajaji is a tiger reserve, as well as having many herds of elephants, so it's a pretty cool place. However, we need to book a jeep safari, otherwise we won't get far in the time that we have. The problem is that when i called to get a reservation, the man that i talked to spoke no english other than 'november 13th". Not quite sure what's significant about that date, but we're going to try to get Bir to talk to the guy and book a safari. That's the plan for this saturday, on Sunday we're going up to Rishikesh - the Yoga capitol of India. It's at the beginning of the Ganges river, giving it a reputation for being a holy city. Hopefully this plan will work out and there will be some very good stories and pictures to match them next week.

On a totally unrelated note, I had my first close-up interaction with a monkey today. They're notorious for being simultaneously dangerously curious and territorial, so the trick is to not challenge them by looking them in the eye, leaving your apartment door open, or having any goodies out in the open. The other day one of them stole a piece of cheesy toast from the picnic table outside while everybody was eating. They're furry devil ninjas. Anyway, I was hanging out in my cottage with a few friends, and the door open. Out of the corner of my eye I see a little face creep through the door. Soon I realize that it's a monkey and eloquently yell, "monkey!". After a good hollering at, the monkey quickly retreated out the door, but not before shooting me a look that said, "you've won this time, humans".

I also have a new website for my photos - flikr won't let me put a bunch of photos up. So check this one from now on - i'm working on getting some videos up also.

Yamaunotri

The tin shell of a car bounces, jumps, and shudders over the unpaved rocky road, kicking up dust to be inhaled by the passengers of the vehicle behind us. Our teeth feel rough to the tongue because of the particulate they've caught after 45 minutes of what feels like the Indiana Jones ride at disneyland. We reach paved road again, which means that the driver can go faster - careening around the switchbacked roads, but it's ok, because he usually honks before going around a blind corner to warn oncoming traffic. When there is a car coming the opposite way, he drives to the edge of the road (cliff) to allow a few inches to squeeze by. The mountains surrounding are a vibrant lush-green, and are rigidly terraced due tot he abundance of past and present rice-patties. A river runs at the crux of these high ridges, turning an increasingly ice-blue color as we go further down the road towards our destination, Yamunotri.

We are 43 in all, with 4 to a cab. 11 cabs thick, the estimate 4 hour trip turns into a 9 hour drive with the help of 2 flat tires, people getting car sick, unpaved roads, and the occasional donkey or cow in the way. This weekend trip is led by one of our Hindi teachers, a man named Dinkar. His leadership style can best be described as minimalist, considering his absence throughout the entire ride - which simultaneously creates confusion about where, what, when and why we are, and a sense of independence. At one of our stops (which we thought was lunch), we were very close to a large stream where, due to the heat, my friend noah, in true santa cruz style, stripped down and waded in. A few of us followed suit, to the apparent delight of the crowd of indian men gathering at the top of the ridge. Soon we discovered that our stop was meant to be brief, and we made haste back to the cab. 2 kilometers later we stopped for lunch near the main river, where we feasted on PB&J's, bananas, naan, and potato curry.

There, at the bottom of the so-called "foothills of the himalayas" (I don't care what they call them, those things are mountains), i was overcome by a sudden case of serenity, which continues to stay with me. A few hours later. we pull into a motel parking lot, which, because of the absence of our leader, many people mistake for our destination. A few minutes later the confusion is cleared up, and we are told that our hotel is a 10 minute walk of the town's only road. By this time, a light rtain has come, a foreshadowing of the monsoon to come. The town is made up of small shacks that line the 6-foot wide path-road, leading steadily up.

People walk by leading donkeys, the main form of transportation up here. However, there are more stylish ways to get around. For a few more rupees, you can sit in a canoe-like frame, and be carried around by 4 people. But if you really want to get around with fliar, you can sit in a small basket, and be carried the 6 km up the mountain on somebodies back! It's like a piggy-back ride business. Our hotel is nothing special, and after getting our rooms, I venture out in the rain to explore. I don't get far, because a shop/tent attracts my attention with the delicious smell of Momos. For those of you who haven't been blessed by eating momos, they are tibetan potstickers, and the they are crazy about them in India. I am not ashamed to say that i, too, have the Momo fever. For about 10 rupees (about 20 cents), i get 5 momos, plus a cup of chai for 6 rupees, and a bowl of maggie (Indian ramen) for another 10 rs. Total, for about 50 cents, i get a delicious snack, shelter from the rain, a few Indian friends, and the time to think and write.

On the edge

I'm sitting in an internet cafe in Mussoorie right now, owned by a sikh guy who sounds almost american, and who has taken it upon himself to educate us in hindi hip-hop. It's not bad. The street outside is probably 10 feel wide, and has deep horizontal grooves in it for traction purposes. Oh, did i mention that we're on the top of a mountain? Across the street is a man in plaid pants, lifting a burlap sack seemingly 80 or 90 pounds on his back, and putting the strap over his forehead to keep the bag on, and keeping his hands free. I guess school just got out because there's tons of 'mountain children' as Rae says walking up the hill back to their homes. Horns of motorcycles, motor-scooters, trucks and cars are constantly blaring to notify each other of their presence as they go around the tight and treacherous switchbacks up the mountain. The roads here are sort of similar to those in Yosemite, except that cars go into the other lane frequently to pass each other. Driving here is SO dangerous, and it looks like there should be constant accidents, but there aren't. On roads as narrow as 7 feet, two cars going opposite directions will get within a centimeter of each other, while being on a 60% grade. Also, they're all stick shifts, and the cars never roll back - i don't understand how they do it. Indians are the the best drivers on the planet.

Anyway, I'm in this internet cafe as part an excursion downtown to get a few things. Downtown is about a 20 minute walk from where we're staying, which is at the top of the mountain. We're literally living on the edge - the clouds aren't anything distant anymore, we're stuck in them, which means the the view isn't as impressive as it could potentially be. However the view is absolutely incredible. We see all of mussoorie on a relatively clear night, wrapped around the roads that wind their way up to us. It's so nice to get out of the city - Mussoorie is super lush and green - i've never seen so many bugs in my life, we're getting used to it. There's also the monkeys, which are very territorial and are known to get very close and screech at you, sometimes even attack if they feel threatened. the trick is not to look them in the eye, show your teeth, or challenge them, and you'll be alright. Just in case, Camden and I went into town yesterday to get canes to double as weapons in the event of a monkey attack. They're also pretty stylish.

Aight i gotta go, but hopefully we'll get internet at the place we're staying today and i'll be able to tell more.

Namaste

In Da Club

Yesterday was a long day. As usual we got up at 730 to eat breakfast. After that, Viji took the remaining group to the foreign registrars office. You would think that for a city as big as Delhi there would be a huge building dedicated to registering foreigners but once again India has subverted our expectations. People were crammed into all the chairs available, and for about 20 minutes we had to stand in a line and wait for them to check us in. After that, we had to go outside and wait, which, considering the 110 degree weather, wasn't very comfortable. The place were sitting was a kind of courtyard, covered by a huge green tarp, which in-effect made us colorblind. Somebody brought cards (considering the last group had to wait for 5 hours), so we were pretty well entertained. I taught the group my new favorite card game, called Gumpsh, where you have a partner and you have to come up with a secret code to tell your partner what cards you have and how many of them. People's codes are pretty funny; when we played tonight Rae and I didn't even need to make up a code, we just spoke in Hebrew. Anyway, we ended up only being at the office for 2 hours total, so it really wasn't bad.

Lunch at the YWCA, and then Kat, Rae and I went on a few errands. Kat and I had gotten cell phones 2 days earlier, been told they would work within 90 minutes and they still didn't work so we went to go fix them while Rae needed to buy a phone. It was my first time taking an auto-rickshaw, also known as a tuk-tuk. The place we needed to go was about 10 minutes away which should cost about 30 rupees, about 75 cents, but the drivers would try to charge us 200 rupees. The problem was that none of us had small change, only 500 rupee notes. All we had collectively in small change was 20 rupees, so i flagged down about 8 or 9 rickshaws, trying to haggle them down to 20 rupees. All of them reacted in the same way by just driving off. it was about that time that Rae discovered that she had 10 more rupees, so we snagged the next rickshaw we saw and found our way to the phone store. As we get into the rickshaw, i get a text message on my phone, telling me it's been activated. This is a perfect example of Indian standard time: It's even worse than jewish standard Time. Jews are usually about 30 minutes late, whereas Indian standard time can range from 30 minutes to 2 days late.

When we got to the phone place, and Kat's phone was working within 2 minutes. While the girls were doing this, i found a store that sold indian sweets. They had gulab-jamin, which is my favorite indian dessert, so i ate a few of those. Rae didn't want to get her phone at the place we got ours because it took so long for our phones to work. Luckily, in our subsequent wanderings, we found a cell phone store that was actually cheaper than our cell phones, so Rae got her phone there. In order to get a cell phone in India, one needs to bring a passport, and passport pictures. So Rae gave her passport to one indian guy at the store, and he begins to walk out of the store. This freaked us all out, because that was Rachel's passport walking out the door to an unknown area, with an unknown man. So i walked out with him, and followed him just to make sure. He led me down a few alleys to a crowded hole-in-the-wall copying place, made a copy of the passport, and then walked back to the store. The area with the copy place was this really cool market, with really tiny shops crowded next to each other, each selling something unique. So after Rae got her phone, we went there and browsed the shops - I bought a few mangos.

Later that night we heard about this club called Urban Pind, where it was ladies night. Ladies night means that women drink for free, so 3 of the guys and 9 of the girls took a bunch of rickshaws to the club to check it out. Too bad the club was in an obscure part of Delhi, because our rickshaw driver stopped at least 7 times to ask directions from the locals. Our driver was so fun: honked his horn when there was absolutely nothing to honk at, sang songs loudly to himself, and took turns at a speed thought to turn the rickshaw over. The rickshaws here are so cool - tiny green 3-wheeled vehicles with the driver in front and a seat for 3 in the back. The streets in Delhi are ridiculous - first of all traffic goes the wrong way, and second of all, everyone drives as if they're playing bumper cars. The lane markings on the streets are a mere suggestion so motorcycles, auto-rickshaws, and scooters weave haphazardly through traffic. The cars get within inches of each other, and honking your horn, contrary to its use in america to express anger and annoyance just means hello here, and is in abundance. On the whole, driving in Delhi can only be described as organized chaos - it's much like a flock of birds being instantaneously synchronized in their flight pattern, but never bumping into one another.

Anyway, we got to the club which was really fun - 3 levels of partying going on, good music, and lots of interesting people. I met some french people who were visiting their friend in Delhi, and talked to them for a while. The heat of Delhi, even at night, plus the club-dancing atmosphere made sure that all of us were drenched in sweat after about 5 minutes, a feeling we've become used to. It's always a good idea to bring a handkerchief around to wipe off the shvitz. We stayed at the club for a long time, and then slowly left in our groups of four - one guy to each 3 girls. Our rickshaw on the way back, though more expensive than the previous one, didn't get lost many times, and returned us safely to the YWCA. Another successful day in Delhi.

Two mornings ago we ate breakfast and gathered to go to the police station to register with them or something. Viji (the program advisor and all around awesome guy) told us that only 25 people could come at a time so he read off a list of those coming with him. I didn’t get picked. A group of unpicked people and I went off to exchange some currency, get a cell phone, and get power adapters. At the phone store we were told that we should come back in an hour or so, so we decided to go to a bazaar and get some cool Indian clothes. On the way we met a guy named Viki – he just came up to us and asked if we needed directions. He didn’t want any money or anything from us, just to practice his English. So he hung out with us and led the way to the bazaar. On the walk with Viki, a guy was walking about the same pace as us, and befriended me. His name was VJ. So we had two Indian tour-guides lending their experience and knowledge to us. At the bazaar they just hung out, and were there for advice when needed. I bargained a lot for my kurta, and got it down from 2500 rupees, which is about $55, to 1800, which is about $35. Great success! I also helped a few friends with their haggling. After the bazaar was the search for power adapters, and then instead of going back to the original phone place, VJ took us to a place that he said was very cheap and very good. Half the group went with this store, and the other half went to the original phone store. Viki and VJ told us the way back to the YWCA, where the group slumped to the marble floor trying to cool their overheated bodies.
Later after lunch, Viji took a bunch of us apartment-hunting. The area that the apartments are in is totally different than the area we’re currently in, so it was kinda cool to see where we will be living for 5 months. They were all pretty much the same, but a bunch of people all seem to want the same one, so I’m not looking forward to people fighting over the same apartment. Speaking of the people on the trip, everyone, and I mean EVERYONE on this trip is awesome. I mean, how can you sign up to go to India for 6 months and not have a sense of adventure? I haven’t met a person who’s not down to travel, experience, and take risks. I foresee little to no conflict within the group, and that makes me so happy. My face hurts from smiling so much.

Photos

I just got a Flikr account, so you can now see my pictures. I'll try to update as much as possible. I also have my maps available.

3rd Day

Yesterday I got up at 5am to walk around Delhi because I heard that Delhi in the early morning is wonderful. So I woke up my two roommates, and went downstairs to check if more people were doing the same thing. Nobody was there, so I just waited for my roommates to come down. Suddenly I see a flustered looking kid with a duffel bag walk by the door of the YWCA. I assumed he was another EAP participant so I opened the door and told him that yes, this was indeed the YWCA. Turns out his name is Matt, and he just came directly from Israel. Also notable was his black kippah. The moment I heard he was in Israel, I addressed him in Hebrew and we spoke it for the rest of our conversation. So he, my two roommates and I wandered the streets of Delhi, eventually spotting a huge golden dome near us. So we walk towards it and find it to be a Sikh Temple. In order to enter, we had to take off our shoes, and put on head-scarves. The Temple sat in the middle of a huge marble courtyard, on which there were many people lounging around. Inside the temple there was live music playing, people praying, and people just sitting around. Outside there was a communal meal being served, and though we didn’t try any, I’m sure it was delicious.

At around 2ish Rae, Camden and I went exploring. We exchanged some currency, got some iced coffee, and Rae and I bought a hookah. It’s beautiful. His name is Rama. We also got a tour of this local park made up of a bunch of buildings from the 1700’s that all serve some astrological purpose. One building was a HUGE sun-dial that can tell time accurate to the half-second! When we got back Rae Katie and I just hung out in my room with the door open listening to music, and people started coming in. Soon we had like 10 people all hanging out in my room, listening to music and playing games. We did this for like 3 hours, which was really nice. At night we tried to go to a bar, but Noah and I couldn’t find the bar we went to earlier with Rahul, so we (20 of us) found some other bar, which was okay.

Here, let me just shove this sharp metal object in your ear

When lunch ended, I was driven to the YWCA where I would be staying for the next week, until we go up to Moussoorie. The drivers had a bit of trouble finding the place, but eventually they got me there and I met up with the group. There’s about 40 of us total, with 10 or so going to Hydrabad University, and the remaining 30 staying here in Delhi. For the first month we all stay together, but when we come back from Moussoorie we split up. The YWCA is in central Delhi, so we’re in the thick of city-life. There are auto-rickshaws everywhere, people managing their various food-stands, homeless people strewn about on the ground, and it seems like the entirety of downtown is under construction. To get into the YWCA, you pass through a gate, and then enter the lobby, which is wonderfully air conditioned. Did I mention that it’s usually a cool and balmy 110 degrees in the daytime in Delhi? In the lobby there are a few chairs and couch’s around a TV, a front desk where we drop off and pick up our room key (there’s only one key, and three people to a room), and a set of doors leading to the dining room where we eat our meals.

The fact that the Lobby is air-conditioned is a blessing and a curse: coming off the streets of Delhi, all shvitsy (sweaty), hot and tired, the lobby is heaven. But it also is the only consistently cool area of the YWCA. There are another set of doors on the other side of the room that open to a stair-case. The moment these doors open, the heat washes over you in such a way that the only response is a sorrowful, “uuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhh”. I’m reminded of that scene in the Anchorman when Ron Burgandy stumbles around Chicago with a gallon of milk saying, “It’s SO hot outside! Milk was a baaaad choice”. Anyway, the reason those doors don’t open into an equally-air-conditioend staircase is that the WYCA is currently under construction, so that where long windows should be, Long boughs of wood are lashed to each other with rope (like primitive scaffolding). My room (room 8) is pretty good – 3 beds, linoleum floor, fan, fluorescent light (which is crooked on the wall), and a bathroom.
Within 5 minutes of getting in, I found my friend Noah, and we went exploring with a few other people. It was my friend Rachel’s birthday so I decided to buy her something from the street. Good thing there were tons of people following us with various nick-nacks – this one guy was selling a head massager for 150 rupees. I told him I’d pay 50 rupees for it, and when he said no I walked away. A minute later, I look back and he’s following me. “120 rupees, ok?” . I hold firm to my 50 rupee asking price. I walk away again, he follows, etc… I ended up getting it for 80 rupees, I probably could have gone lower. Anyway, 1st haggling experience. Soon we came back to the YWCA, rested a bit, and then just Noah and I went out to explore. We went looking for some authentic chai, and passed through some street-markets.

Everyone is SO friendly here. They all say hello and try to talk to us (even if they’re not trying to sell us something). Noah has been taking Hindi for the past year so he was very excited to speak with the locals. He met one guy who, after a bit of small talk, busted out a small notebook with short testimonials about how good he was at what he does. Soon another guy came up to me with the same routine. They were ear-cleaners, and I’m not talking about a q-tip. After exaughstively showing me his book of testimonials, he pulls out a toothpick-thick metal stick, puts a piece of cotton on top of it, holds my head and right ear, and sticks the stick deep into my ear. At this point there’s very little I can do, so I just relax and wait for him to finish. He swirls the piece around in my ear, and brings it out. The once-white cotton is now dark brown, and there’s a bunch of gunky ear-wax on it. My ear actually felt pretty good afterwards, but when he tried to do my other ear, I said no. This was when my brain had started working and was saying to me, “it’s your 2nd day in Delhi, maybe we should hold off on the sketchy Indian guys poking around inside of your ear with a sharp metal stick”. And so we journeyed on.

We passed through is very nice park where everybody was lounging about in the heat, and hung around there for a while. Then we moved back onto the street, because on our agenda was this bar that we had heard of where we could get a beer and watch the world cup. This part of Delhi isn’t based on a grid system, so navigating is quite tough if you’re new. So Noah and I, kind of lost, are stopped at a corner debating over which way to go, when this Indian kid comes up to us speaking, and in very good English asks us where we are going. We tell him, and he tells us that he will lead us there. Not trying to sell anything, not having anything to do, he acts as our guide and we follow him to the bar. At first I was a bit paranoid, because he came out of nowhere, was leading us down some alleys, and I was disoriented. So while Noah was practicing his Hindi with him, I lagged a bit behind, trying to judge the situation. However eventually we wound up at our desired bar, and my paranoia was absolved. His name was Rahul, and when we asked him if he wanted to join us at the bar, he seemed surprised and honored. “who, me? You want me to come up and talk with you?”. He said yes and we bought him a beer while chatting and watching the world cup. Turns our Rahul is 18, from Rajastan, engaged, and studying English here in Delhi. We must’ve been at the bar for 2 hours or so but eventually Rahul had to go so he gave us his phone number, and told us that anything we ever need in Delhi, don’t hesitate to call him. Such a sweet kid. Noah and I found our way back to the YWCA, where we ate dinner and hung out with the rest of the kids.

1st Day in Delhi

It’s 7:40 Pm here in Delhi, and only 95 Degrees out. Dinner is at 8, and then after that we plan on going to a bar that Noah and I discovered with our new friend Rahul. So much has happened since my last post, and our Internet access is limited to two very old and slow computers downstairs in the lobby here at the YWCA and our desire to pay for using them. As a result, I haven’t had the time or patience to deal with those things, nor have I gotten a power adapter to charge my out-of-battery computer.

I guess I should start at the beginning, when I got into Delhi. My flight from Taipei to Delhi was great – there were basically no people on the plane so I got an entire middle row of about 5 seats to myself, so I stretched out and took a nap for the duration of the plane ride. During the mad rush to get me on a plane to Delhi on time, Josh organized for me to stay with our family friends, the Lambas. Divij, who is around Josh’s age, was very kind to come pick me up from the airport, whereupon we drove to his house. Currently under construction, it bore almost no resemblance to the house my family and I stayed at in 2004 for the marriage of Dhruv and Mandi. The place was totally gutted, with rubble scattered everywhere. We took an elevator up to the 2nd floor, which remained intact and livable. Dhruv, Mandi, their son Arieh-Veer, and Divij all lived on this floor while the renovations were being done. Divij showed me the room that I was to stay in – it was the biggest room I’ve ever slept in! Huge bed, beautiful wood floors, private bathroom, a couch, and a porch. When I tried to get my bags from the car I was told to leave them, because the driver would bring them up. This concept is weird and uncomfortable for me, I feel weird having people do what I can do for myself. It seems apparent to me that my things mean that I deal with them.
Anyway, after a quick but luxurious shower, Divij took me to a hotel about 20 minutes from the house, which is technically in another state altogether, to meet his cousin and his fiancé for lunch. I enter the spacious and modern looking hotel, and we walk to the dining room, where my senses were instantly assaulted by the multiplicity of gourmet and multi-cultural foods. There was one table dedicated to cold cuts, which included a whole leg of porchutto, with a knife next to it for self-carving purposes, a plate of carpacio, several types of slami, jars of pickled vegetables, a wide variety of cheeses, and dozens of freshly baked breads.

That was just one table. There were other such tables dedicated to Chinese food, Indian food, appetizers, and desserts, all equally as impressive. When asked what I wanted to drink, and my response was “just water”, I was swiftly ordered a beer by Divij, who didn’t seem shy about repeating this act in the future. For the next 2 ½ hours, we nibbled here and there, until we were totally full – but India, being full isn’t enough. Good-old Indian hospitality kept the food and drinks coming long after I stopped eating. I definitely felt taken care of. A long nap preceded the long lunch, after-which we went next door to see ‘grandfather’.

Pashori Lamba was friends with my grandpa, and is the father of Sunil, who is around my Dad’s age. Sunil is the father of Divij (who’s around Josh’s age), Dhruv, and Divya. Divij, Dhruv, his wife Mandi and I walked to the house next door, and hung out with Pashori. Just sitting in the room with him, you can sense that he’s done great things with his life, and is a very intelligent man. After a while, Divij and I left to see the Karate Kid, which wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be – Jackie Chan is the bomb. In India, regardless of the movie you’re watching, if you’re in a movie theater, there is an intermission. An employee also walks up and down the aisles, offering to bring you any food from the concessions stand. Needless to say, when we got back to the house, I slept soundly until the morning.

From around 12 pm to 1:30 Divij gave me a tour of the country club accessible to all of the members of his living community. Included is a pool, a bar, a restaurant, several card rooms, a gym, and a billiards room. To waste some time Divij taught me how to play Billiards. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, so I let him win – next time we play though; I’m not going so easy. Next was Father’s Day lunch with Pashori, Sunil, Divij, Dhruv, Mandi, and I. There were 3 generations of fathers there, which I thought was kind of cool. We went to Hotel Oberoy for lunch, and ordered the Dim Sum Lunch. The Lambas seem to be very into Dim Sum – I don’t blame them. Lunch was incredible, and once again I was pushed to my limit of fullness by the ever-more famous Indian hospitality, “Benny, I thought you said you could eat a lot! Have a few more Dim Sum. Oh and you have to try these green beans. And of course the coconut ice cream, its divine here!”. (Insert Indian accent). They really take care of you, it’s very generous.

Taipei

The 14 hour flight here wasn't bad at all. I sat next to a Vietnamese woman named Fuh, who spoke almost no english, so our limited interactions consisted mainly of pointing, smiling, thumbs up, and grimaces (she didn't like her meals, so i ate them).
So many hours later and a beautiful pacific ocean sunrise later, i'm sitting here, in Taipei International AIrport. My 6 hour flight to Delhi boards in 10 minutes -next update: Delhi

Background

I still have another 30 minutes until my flight boards, so i thought i'd give you a bit of background on my family's connection to India. My grandpa was stationed in New Delhi during the 2nd world war, doing meat-inspection for the US troops. He met and befriended two indian men, Ikbal Guy, and Pashori Lamba, who had a hand-crank ice cream machine, just trying to get by. When it was time for him to leave, my Grandpa told these men, "if you're ever in New York, you're more than welcome to stay with us, we'll take care of you". And that's exactly what happened. They came to New York, stayed with my family, and my grandpa helped them get into the Cornell school of hotel management, one of the best programs in the country. They ended up going to college, going back to India, and then founding the largest ice cream company in all of India.

Incredible, right? Well ever since that our families have been intertwined. My Dad went to India in the 70's to celebrate the wedding of Pashori's son, which is the beginning point of his 9-month adventure around the world. Also a few years ago while we were in Israel, we were invited to another wedding of the Lambas, and got to go to India for 10 days. When i get to India (in 21 hours), i am blessed to be subject to the hospitality of the Lambas once again, while i wait the extra day until my program starts.

Pre-Poned

In our extensive pre-trip meeting, along with talking with friends, i have heard that in India, it is possible for a train to be not only postponed, but also pre-poned, this meaning that the trail will actually leave before its scheduled time. Little did I know that about 4 months ago, i had accidentally pre-poned my flight to India. This shocking realization came to fruition at about 5:00 pm tonight when, after a bike ride with my brother, he looked over my confirmation email from Orbitz, and told me that my flight was supposed to leave tonight, rather than tomorrow night as i had planned. After a frenzied double check, I realized that this was true, and that i had booked my flight an hour early. What ensued can only be described as organized chaos.

I thought that my flight was the same as the organized group flight on which most of the EAP students were flying, so i would get a chance to hang out with the few people i do know on the trip, as well as meet others. I had been telling people this entire 4 months that i was leaving on the night of the 18th, a fact that increased my level of disbelief and shock when my original plans were shattered. In effect, i screwed myself over. However luckily, this entire week i had been slowly packing and gathering the things needed for my trip, so that my packing process wasn't too bad.

When my mom got home, my brother took out his iphone and began recording a video to document her response to the news. I explained how i had messed up and i was actually leaving tonight. Naturally, she freaked out, and then a beautiful thing happened, the Zimmerman's buckled down. I immediately went to the garage to rifle through the boxes from school, to see if there was anything else from them that i needed in india. Josh got on the phone, calling the credit card company to notify them that i would be in india, so they shouldn't freeze my credit card when there was foreign activity on it. He also registered me with the US embassy, and called our indian friends to tell them I was coming. Josh also figured out where i was staying the extra night in Delhi, and how i was getting there from the airport. Mom took my notebook, and grilled me on my packing list, making sure that i didn't forget anything. Dad went to Darrow's house, where i had forgotten my jacket, and then picked up dinner for us.

Before i knew it, it was 930, and time to leave for the airport. So here i am, 1 packed duffel bag and backpack later, sitting at gate 104 in the china airways terminal, waiting for my 14 hour flight to Taipei. I also recently just learned that there aren't any chargers on the plane, so I'll have to make the most of my electronics while i can.

And so my adventure begins...

Almost

Sometime last week i realized that my answer to the question "when do you leave for India" had changed from "I have to be in India by June 20th", to "next friday". Both answers mean the same thing, however my new answer emphasizes the extreme closeness of my departure. I will be in India in 6 days.

On Thursday, June 10th, at around 6:30 pm i said goodbye to all those close to me from Santa Cruz and with my car packed to the brim with all of my possessions, i ordered sushi to go, set up a podcast of NPR's This American Life, and was on the road to LA. After about 6 hours of driving i found myself in front of my house in LA, knocked on the door, and was greeted by my poppa, who welcomed me warmly. I walked into my parents bedroom where my mom was, and was exclaimed at by my mother, "What happened to your hair!?". She was referring to my recently buzzed head, a precaution i took against the 115 degree weather of Delhi during the summer.

Yesterday was a day of friends. Darrow, back from his 2-month excursion in the wilderness, invited me over to his house in the morning for omelettes. After a hearty breakfast and some catching up, we decided to ride our respective bikes to the beach, considering how beautiful a day it was. On the way down to the ocean we met up with one of my best friends Jordan Ross, whom i havent seen for many months. Us three stopped at a random japanese market, and were delighted by the delicacies and the deliciously decent-priced meals we found there. Having successfully lost our motivation to go to the beach, Darrow and I parted from Jordan Ross and biked back to his house, where he taught me some tai-chi like exercises, and played with his baby brother and sister. The night ended in my dad's favorite 007 movie, Sean Connery's Dr. No.

Today was a loooong day. I woke up at the crack of 6:30 am to be in Santa Monica by 7 for REI's used gear sale. For those of you who don't know about this gem of an event, every month or so, REI takes all of its returned gear (usually returned for small and insignificant issues), and sells it for 60% off or more. After making a few friends in line, and waiting for about an hour (the line went all the way down the block) I was finally chosen to be the next to go into the store, where there was a roped off section, with gear loosely sorted on tables, boxes, or racks. Top of the line Osprey backpacks were down from 500 bucks to 150, and tents were being sold at a price I would feel guilty taking advantage of. I ended up getting two pairs of good wool socks (usually priced at $15), for 93 cents each! One of the socks has a tiny hole around my shin, which seems to be an unspeakable offense to my mother, because she hasn't let me live it down yet. Personally, i don't care about the hole at all - why worry about a tiny hole over my leg when it's my foot that matters? Anyway, i also got this cool hat, a good thermos for $4, and a really nice timex trail watch for 25 bucks, marked down from $125. The reason this watch was returned? The previous owner didn't like that the watch strap was velcro!

Finally getting back home around 930, my old camp friend Rachel Wolman calls me and says she's in town, and invites me to go hang out with her and another friend of ours, Jamie. They pick me up from my place and we go...guess where? the third street-promenade, which happens to be about 2 blocks from REI where i has JUST come from. After a little parking adventure, us three walk into the Santa Monica farmers market, where I buy a sourdough loaf and block of garlic cheddar cheese as lunch. Like the jews we are, we wandered - eventually going down to the Santa Monica pier, and then back up to REI to get a camelbak bladder for me.

By 230 i was home again, and instead of taking the well-needed nap that i wanted, i was persuaded by my mother to help her prepare for the Kahnnas arrival. The Kahnnas are some of our family-friends from Delhi, and were coincidentally in LA this week. Given this great opportunity to hang out with them, my family invited them (Rishi, his wife Divya, their 7 year old son Jay, and their 2 year old son Veer) to dinner at our place. In preparation for their arrival, i went to a toy store and tried to get some presents for the boys. After realizing that i totally forgot what i liked when i was 7, I befriended some kids in the toy store who were 8, and enlisted their help to find some cool toys that Jay and Veer would like. Turns out these kids were Israeli, so i had fun practicing my Hebrew, while simultaneously re-connecting with my 7-year old self. I ended up getting Jay a grabber (the long pole with a lever on one end, and a claw-thing on the other), where the grabbing part was a dinosaur head, and a toy ferrari. I got Veer a little lion stuffed-animal, and a green silicon spherical man with tentacles coming out and a drawstring that, when pulled made him vibrate. Finally coming home, i was thrown into the mix of preparing for the Kahnnas arrival and making dinner. Around 6:30 they came over, and we had a very nice dinner - it was nice to get to know Rishi, Divya, Jay and Veer better. For dessert Jay helped me make chocolate strawberries, and then we watched some OLD (1940) videos that my grandpa took when he was in Delhi working for the army.

This week looks like it's shaping up to be very busy between seeing old friends, getting things ready for my 6-month adventure and spending time with the family. I can't believe that I am actually going to India for 6 months, and am leaving so soon! 6 days from now my blogs will actually be about my adventure in the east, instead of about my preparation for it. Soon i'll figure out a way of uploading photos/video so that you will have access to my blog, my map, and my photos.

Acceptance

This morning during logic class I got two missed calls from a UCSC number. After my class was over, i checked my voicemail and heard it was the EAP office telling me that my official acceptance letter was in, and i should come by and pick it up. After meeting up with my friend Adam, who also had business with EAP, we biked to the EAP office, where i told them my name, which was responded to by laughter. They told me that they had liked my answering machine, an adaptation of George's from Seinfeld. Officially accepted into Delhi University. Sweet

Plans

Just a quick heads up about my general plans. I will be staying in New Delhi for the entire 6 months. After arriving in Delhi on June 20th, I will stay there for a week, and then I go up to Mussoorie for three weeks, which is in the foothills of the Himalayas. We're doing this to get out of the heat of Delhi, and to do ILP (Intensive Language Program). Then, after 3 weeks, we go back to Delhi for school.

I'm planning on traveling every weekend, and seeing as much of India as possible. As a result, I've created a map which I will update whenever i go somewhere new. Let me know if the link doesn't work, or my map isn't available.

The Only Guy in Town

It seems to be becoming a tradition of mine to blog during my Monday 5pm-10pm class block, which i'm ok with, seeing as it gives me some sort of a break other than the 15 minute walk from lecture to lecture. The only way i can describe my past weekend was "solid". It began on Thursday, where my friends Austin and Justin, along with a leader of the Rereation Office Matt Brower, and I all hit the racquetball courts to test our respective skills against one another. A couple of weeks ago I was feeling confident in my game, I was playing pretty good, and beat my usual racquetball equal Austin thrice in a row. The unavoidable feeling of hubris that ensued lifted me up a notch higher in my confidence, only to drop me from farther up when, with repeated self-caused points against me, I lost badly to Austin, Justin, and Matt. Well, i never really had a chance with Matt, seeing as he's been playing the game for 30+ years, and my loss to Austin was incumbent after i had beaten him the previous week, but what really threw me for a loop was my game with Justin, wherein I repeatedly gave him points that were easily avoidable. Alright, enough about racquetball, on to Friday.

After waking up at the crack of 12 pm on Friday, Jordan and I utilized our mad biking skills and biked downtown to run a few errands. Jordan picked up some art supplies for some unknown and secretive reason, while I bought myself a copy of the Ramayana, the great Indian Epic, on which i'm doing a research paper. After eating at the local Jewish/Italian eatery and buying myself a stick-o-sopresetta, we biked back to campus and made some dinner. At night Jordan, Shoshie, Austin, Max, a few other friends and I went to the on-campus production of Hair, a musical about the 60's. Mostly devoid of plot and character development, the play focused on the group dynamics of a bunch of hippies, one of which was drafted for Veitnam. That was the plot, however the entertaining aspect of the play was that it featured loads and loads of absolute nudity. Why? I don't know. However, singing, dancing, hippies, and nudity make an entertaining 2 1/2 hours.

Saturday Jordan and I again biked down from campus, however this time we biked to Capitola (round trip about 7 miles), in search of a man named Carlos, who lives in a trailer park. Why were we trailer-spelunking? On the final leg of my Spring Break trip to the Grand Canyon, we stopped at the Kelso Sand Dunes, to which i stupidly brought my camera. badda-bing badda-boom, my camera has sand all over it, along with inside it. This, as you can imagine, impeded the functionality of my camera, which then had trouble opening and closing. After putting off fixing my camera for this entire quarter, on Friday I called all around Santa Cruz looking for someone who could repair my camera. I finally found out that the only person within 50 miles who repairs cameras, is this guy Carlos, who lives in Capitola in a trailer. So after calling him and making an appointment, Jordan and I biked over to meet him. He lives in a place called Trailer Haven, and his trailer was surprisingly professional. Carlos was super nice and really knew his stuff about cameras, and he's supposed to give me an estimate by tomorrow. So if you're in the Santa Cruz area and ever need a camera repaired, call Carlos! (831) 325-6426. After our meeting with Carlos, Jordan and I biked past this little mexican market, where I ended up buying some really fresh bread, and carne asada meat for Tacos.

This past year i've been a TA for Sunday School at Temple Beth El in Aptos. This past Sunday my last day with my class of rowdy 3rd grade boys, and we had an ice cream party, which was AWESOME. I'm not sure if the kids know it (I sure didn't when i was a kid), but the teachers love recess, movie day, and a good old fashioned ice cream party as much as the children. So i was stoked. After a bunch of ice cream, and convincing the children to sit quietly by showing them Star Trek: The Return of Spok, the kids exploded in a fireball of energy just in time for our all-temple meeting/final goodbye. To conclude the ceremony, a guitar-laden rabbi was brought up to sing the concluding song, which I assumed would be in Hebrew. Wrong. The concluding song was "wherever you go, there's always someone Jewish", the song popularized by Adam Sandler. Not sure how to feel about that one.

When I got back home, I worked for two hours on editing the videos of my Dad telling stories into a movie. However, iMovie unexpectedly quit, deleting ALL of my progress. Luckily I was able to re-do my work in half the time later that night, so my loss wasn't irrevocably painful. It's been so fun watching my dad tell all of his stories again, and getting to name them, and edit them together into a comprehensive and accessible movie. Oh and i made Carne Asada Tacos for dinner. mmmmmmmm.

Mothers Day

Once again I'm writing to you from my ESLP Sustainable living class, which, being three hours long, is almost impossible to stay intently focused for the entire time. Right now the speakers are taking questions, so there's time for me to write. Today's class was about Fair Trade and Coffee, and we had a woman from Nicaragua who lives in a coffee Co-Op lecture in spanish at us (there was a student translator). Next we had an environment studies professor lecture about fair trade vs. free trade. He talked about the pros and cons of fair trade in comparison to free trade. Fair trade is about 'voting with your dollar' - participating in a market that favors companies and businesses that are sustainable, organic, and mutually beneficial for producer and consumer. Fair trade reduces contact with 'the middleman', so that there aren't many businesses between the producer and the consume. A problem, however, is that in order to get the certification for 'organic' or 'fair trade', there are a set of rigorous criteria that need to be met, which not all producers/farmers are able to meet. Also, because of climate change, the specific climate zone that coffee grows in is getting higher in elevation by 3-4 meters a YEAR, so that, depending on how much high ground is available, many countries won't be able to produce coffee anymore in a few years.

Anyway, this past weekend I planned to surprise my Mom in LA for Mothers Day, drive down on Friday and stay the weekend. I was going to drive alone at first, but then Jose, my housemate, hear about my plan and asked to tag along. Then I saw my good friend Jon, who apparently had been frantically searching for a way to get down to Whittier (near LA) to surprise his mom. So naturally Jon came aboard, and my RA and friend Matt (who heard about our trip form Jon), asked to come. Suddenly, my trip grew from just me, to a full car of my friends. Friday, and 11 am, all 4 of us piled into the love bus (my mini-van), and headed south. I've driven down to LA many times from Santa Cruz, and this group of guys was one of the best i've driven with - we all got along really well and had a great time, despite being in an enclosed space with me for an extended period of time. Jon was particularly excited to get a solid 'dose of Ben', which i'm sure he got by the end of the ride back to Santa Cruz. On the ride down to LA, we stopped in Santa Barbara to eat and see my friend Rachel, who i'm going to India with. At about 630ish, we arrived at my house in LA, where Jon and Jose were to be picked up (Matt had been dropped off earlier). Jon's step-dad grew up near where i live, so he brought Jon's mom, and his brothers up to Cheviot hills to meet 'an old friend of his', who coincidentally had the same address as me.

When they pulled up to my house, and Jon walked up to the car, his mom shrieked and jumped out of the car and hugged him -it was great to see his mom so happy and surprised with Jon's presence. Jose got picked up later, and then I was off to services where my Mom was helping out. After meeting with my Dad at Temple Emmanuel, he went over to my Mom and told her that she needed to talk to someone right now, and that it was urgent. She walked out the door of the sanctuary, looked at me, kept walking, and then realized who she saw. Unfortunately we were still in plain sight of some of the congregation involved in services, and the ensuing scene of hugging and motherly love might have been a bit distracting. I was brought into services, where, to everyone she knew (which is everyone), she pantomimed how i (her youngest son) came down from College in Santa Cruz, to surprise her for Mothers Day. When I asked her later if that might have been disruptive, she answered, "well, i'm the Rabbi, i'm allowed". Good point, Mom.

The rest of the weekend was wonderful, seeing Darrow's (my roommate from last year) family, and hanging out with my Brother, Dad and Mom. I had this idea a couple of weeks ago, I was thinking of all the various stories i've grown up with - stories of the incredible life my Dad has led. I thought, "man, he has so many stories, all of them great, how am i going to remember all of them to tell to my friends and future children?". So i thought that he should write down all the stories, but then i realized that it would be easier, and better if we videotaped him telling the stories, so that the viewer could not only get the content of the story, but see and hear the story being told in its original form, by my Poppa. So I borrowed Lisa Greer's (Darrow's mom) flip video camera, and we set to work filming. So far, just from this weekend, I have about 90 minutes of film, which, edited down, is probably about 70 minutes. Not only do i have that much content, but there are more stories to come! When i finish editing the stories together into a comprehensive video, i'll post it on youtube or something, and put the link on my facebook page on and this blog if you're interested in hearing some great stories.

Other than than, I got some new shoes/sandals for India, which have neoprene inside (the stuff wetsuits are made out of), and an anti-microbial BUILT INTO the padding, so any crazy germs or bacteria i pick up while running around Delhi will be mostly neutralized by my sandals...pretty sweet. Also got a new rain-jacket which got me all excited for monsoon season in India.
That's about it for today - ive still got a month and a half until i go to India.

ESLP

Right now I'm sitting in my Sustainable living class, learning about how the world is hydro-illiterate, and how of the 1% of the water in the world is drinkable, and how in the past 110 years, we've polluted half of that. Sustainable living class (ESLP) is really scary because the case for the upcoming apocalypse keeps being made stronger and stronger, while making me feel increasingly guilty that i'm not doing enough to help save the planet. However it also gives me many many tools and resources to let me choose my way to subvert the dominant system.

But enough about that, i'm currently dividing my attention between two things, living my life in Santa Cruz, and daydreaming about my future in India. What sandals am i going to get to best suit India? Rainbow's aren't secure enough, Sanuks will get and stay wet during the monsoon season (which is when i will be in India), Crocks are just weird, and i've never worn Tevas or Chacos. Will i want a sandal with a tall sole so i can rise above the grit and grime of Delhi streets, or will I want something light and easy? All this thought devoted just to the idea of what sandals i will be wearing.

Since my pre-orientation meeting this past saturday, talking with returnees and meeting the people i will be going to Delhi with, my mind has been lost in the east with menial questions like my sandal craziness, and imagining myself adapting (or not) to the new culture. I was given a free Lonely Planet guidebook by this girl Roxy, a Delhi returnee who i met at the pre-orientation meeting. This book is incredible! It has premade itineraries for your various purposes, it has a COMPLETE list of all cities and towns in India, holy sites in the area, brief history of the area, hotels (from cheap to expensive), adventure outings, and places to eat. I've been slowly studying the book, and learning what i can from its wise pages.

I spent my premodern india class today creating a to-do/to-get list, figuring out the exchange rate of dollars to rupees, the conversion of Celsius to Fahrenheit, miles to kilometers, and writing them down in my notebook under the heading "General India info". I've also been going through Roxy and Jordan's blog, two students who just got back from india last quarter on the exact same program. I've read almost their entire blog within the past 5 hours.

In short, I'm going (more) crazy. I can't explain to you how excited i am to embark on my adventure, and follow in the footsteps of all those who have gone to india before, and been changed in a thousand different ways.

Too bad I don't leave for another month and a half. For now, i'll resign myself to enjoying the present moment, and soaking up as much of Santa Cruz living so that i have a good supply of memories when i'm away from it for 6 months.

I'm hoping to keep this blog throughout my time in India, both for conservation of my memories, and for sharing with you. I might start using flikr, to help show the inevitable slew of photos that i will take. We'll see.