Because of lack of internet issues, I'm posting this last blog after returning home. Arrived home mid afternoon yesterday after a 14 hour bus ride, an overnight in Agra, a 4 hour bus ride to Delhi, and two 8 hour plane rides. We seem to be doing pretty well with the time change. I was totally asleep at 7:30pm yesterday, wide awake from 1:00 - 3:30am, but slept nicely till 6:00am. This might be easier than I think...
It's going to be a long haul home. We are sitting in the airport in Delhi. Because HI is coordinating 150 travelers going in many places, we are here a good 7 hours before take off. We can't even get into the terminal for a while longer. (Note after blog...Delhi airport rocks!! I would have gladly hung out here longer. Eva and I each had a great Thai massage....)
Our last few days in Khajuraho had highlights. We cabbed into town and our driver found someone, a relative, to show us around the old part of the city. We went into a house which was pretty cool. The houses are open-air. There is not much wood available for building, but material for bricks is abundant, so most houses are brick covered in cement, for a soft adobe look. Roofs are thatch or corrugated metal, or tile. There are no windows, but generally wood doors. Animals come "inside" at night, in their own space, and the house we saw had about three other small rooms for beds, living space, and such.
We also toured a school. It was a private school that offers a free education to all castes. (while the caste system has been abolished by the government, this area of town still observed it). We received a tour from the principal. Tiny rooms, dirt floors, chalkboards with no real books. Most public schools are K-8. After that students need to choose a track, pretty much determining their future education at that point.
A boy about 13 was following us as we walked around town, striking up conversations with the girls, pretty much focused on Sylvia. At one point he asked me if Sylvia had an email or Facebook, and asked permission to ask her for her address. They exchanged addresses. Sylvia now has a pen pal.
Local boys like to make connections with tourists, for several reasons. One is to learn other languages, and probably specifically English. They practice with tourists. They also hope to make connections and stay in touch via internet/Facebook with hopes that the person might assist them to come to the US someday. A fellow traveller that chatted with a young man on staff in our ashram became such a connection, and was taken home to meet his family and had a tour of his home. I only saw one young girl in the villages that spoke any English of consequence, but the boys are much, much more aggressive about making connections and practicing.
Shopping here is exhausting. Vendors are relentless, loud, and overwhelming. Shopping is overwhelming to me to begin with, and their sales techniques probably cost them more sales than anything. They talk to you from the moment you exit a car, follow you along the street, shove items in your face, try to make conversation, and in general challenge your sense of good manners as you try to stay polite while wishing they'd go away.
I have not seen much begging, but that must be more prolific in the cities. Most of our traveling has been in smaller villages and countryside.
We did some hiking in the hills, climbing to an abandoned palace, temples, and graves. It was hot and we saw monkeys in the trees.
Yesterday we had a 14 hour bus ride from Khajuraho to Agra. Making it particularly challenging was the fact that the roads were not entirely paved. Most of the country roads are dirt. The dirt compresses, and since the soil here had so much clay, that generally works for the lessor used roads. However, they are filled with ruts. The road we had to take had periodic paving. Apparently the government would contract with companies to pave. They'd lowball the bid, then pave until they ran out of money and abandon the project. The government would hire another group, to the same end. So, you would have a stretch of road that would simply end, leaving our huge tour bus to navigate a road either dirt or so full of potholes we couldn't move faster than about 15 miles per hour. Anyone who wasn't coughing up a storm in our group from the respiratory thing going around was battling nausea. I discovered that the front of the bus is the place to be if you get motion sick. Unfortunately, the girls thought sitting in the back was the cool place to be, until one of my daughters threw up all over with two miles left to go to the hotel. So, the first hour we had back in civilization (hot showers and real beds) was spent negotiating vomit covered clothes and bags.
I realize as I'm writing that my blogs are less about the spiritual aspects of this trip and more about the experience of this type of travel with my family, and our interactions with the people. As a yogi, traveling with HI, spirituality was certainly a part. But, sharing this experience with my family, especially the girls, was the most important thing. Meeting people living an entirely different lifestyle, of a very different culture, and sharing that with the girls was the very best thing. To me, that has a spiritual aspect all it's own.
It's going to be a long haul home. We are sitting in the airport in Delhi. Because HI is coordinating 150 travelers going in many places, we are here a good 7 hours before take off. We can't even get into the terminal for a while longer. (Note after blog...Delhi airport rocks!! I would have gladly hung out here longer. Eva and I each had a great Thai massage....)
Our last few days in Khajuraho had highlights. We cabbed into town and our driver found someone, a relative, to show us around the old part of the city. We went into a house which was pretty cool. The houses are open-air. There is not much wood available for building, but material for bricks is abundant, so most houses are brick covered in cement, for a soft adobe look. Roofs are thatch or corrugated metal, or tile. There are no windows, but generally wood doors. Animals come "inside" at night, in their own space, and the house we saw had about three other small rooms for beds, living space, and such.We also toured a school. It was a private school that offers a free education to all castes. (while the caste system has been abolished by the government, this area of town still observed it). We received a tour from the principal. Tiny rooms, dirt floors, chalkboards with no real books. Most public schools are K-8. After that students need to choose a track, pretty much determining their future education at that point.
Local boys like to make connections with tourists, for several reasons. One is to learn other languages, and probably specifically English. They practice with tourists. They also hope to make connections and stay in touch via internet/Facebook with hopes that the person might assist them to come to the US someday. A fellow traveller that chatted with a young man on staff in our ashram became such a connection, and was taken home to meet his family and had a tour of his home. I only saw one young girl in the villages that spoke any English of consequence, but the boys are much, much more aggressive about making connections and practicing.
Shopping here is exhausting. Vendors are relentless, loud, and overwhelming. Shopping is overwhelming to me to begin with, and their sales techniques probably cost them more sales than anything. They talk to you from the moment you exit a car, follow you along the street, shove items in your face, try to make conversation, and in general challenge your sense of good manners as you try to stay polite while wishing they'd go away.I have not seen much begging, but that must be more prolific in the cities. Most of our traveling has been in smaller villages and countryside.
We did some hiking in the hills, climbing to an abandoned palace, temples, and graves. It was hot and we saw monkeys in the trees.
Yesterday we had a 14 hour bus ride from Khajuraho to Agra. Making it particularly challenging was the fact that the roads were not entirely paved. Most of the country roads are dirt. The dirt compresses, and since the soil here had so much clay, that generally works for the lessor used roads. However, they are filled with ruts. The road we had to take had periodic paving. Apparently the government would contract with companies to pave. They'd lowball the bid, then pave until they ran out of money and abandon the project. The government would hire another group, to the same end. So, you would have a stretch of road that would simply end, leaving our huge tour bus to navigate a road either dirt or so full of potholes we couldn't move faster than about 15 miles per hour. Anyone who wasn't coughing up a storm in our group from the respiratory thing going around was battling nausea. I discovered that the front of the bus is the place to be if you get motion sick. Unfortunately, the girls thought sitting in the back was the cool place to be, until one of my daughters threw up all over with two miles left to go to the hotel. So, the first hour we had back in civilization (hot showers and real beds) was spent negotiating vomit covered clothes and bags.
I realize as I'm writing that my blogs are less about the spiritual aspects of this trip and more about the experience of this type of travel with my family, and our interactions with the people. As a yogi, traveling with HI, spirituality was certainly a part. But, sharing this experience with my family, especially the girls, was the most important thing. Meeting people living an entirely different lifestyle, of a very different culture, and sharing that with the girls was the very best thing. To me, that has a spiritual aspect all it's own.
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