A Monkey in the Zoo

Yesterday was a crazy day. I ended up having to travel second class, which is everything you saw in the movies. The total crowding, the pushing to get on. Insane. But surprisingly good natured overall (once you were on the train, that is, before that it's no holds barred elbowing and shouting - no wonder hundreds of people are trampled to death getting on trains each year!). I don't know if I would have lasted longer than the two hours it took to get to Manmad Junction, but that short time was kind of cool to experience firsthand.

Manmad was nuts. Very small town, and I got there after dusk, but it was really hopping so I ventured out for some dinner and a walk around. I felt very comfortable there, and ventured into a sari shop and bought a sari. Yay! Very pretty. Then I went back to the station, where I spent the next two hours surrounded by curious crowds who wanted photos and autographs and a chance to practice their English. Very strange. Now I know what it's like to be a celebrity.

Gotta go! Have to catch the 3:30 bus to Khajuraho!

Indian trains

Well, I had an illuminating experience last night. I took the train from Mumbai to Arangabad, and because I was late in booking it I could only get sleeper class, which is the lowest class sleeper car. Here are the rules in sleeper class:

There are no rules.

The conductor never comes back there. Even to check tickets.

This means that one berth can fit a family of five, no problem. If you don't have a ticket, it's totally fine if you and your luggage sleep on the floor. And if anyone gets up and takes their bag with them, it is perfectly acceptable to assume they're leaving and take their berth. It is packed like crazy. Until now I could never conceptualize the population explosion thing that's going on in Asia, but this brought it home for me loud and clear. This is what happens when there are more people than the existing infrastructure can possibly handle.

So needless to say I got precious little actual sleep. Lucky for me I had an upper berth so I only had to share with my luggage. I can't say I'm so lucky for tomorrow's trip (another availability issue, but now that the worst of the new-arrival scramble has passed, I'm booking 10+ days out). Tomorrow I'll have the lower berth, so I'll be at ground level for the whole fiasco. Oh well, at least I can put my luggage under the seat and not have to use it as my giant, whole-bunk-taking pillow.

Today, after arriving at 4AM and taking the bus from Aurangabad to Ellora, I got my first taste of Indian history. And what a taste. 34 rock-cut temple caves. Like Petra, only instead of sandstone, it's solid basalt. Amazing. And in the name of diversity, it had Jain, Buddhist, and Hindu temples all at the same site. A lot of them were anticlimactic, but the highlight was cave 16, the grand-daddy of all Hindu temples. It's really hard to explain, but when I get some pictures straightened out and posted you'll see. It's huge and covered with all kinds of muti-armed deities and elephants and lions and other fabulously Indian looking stuff. And bats. Tons of bats. I must confess, bats are my Indiana Jones snakes (he can't deal with them, even in pursuit of treasure). I braved a few areas, but most I decided weren't worth the possible rabies shots.

So now I'm back in Aurangabad trying to get stuff taken care of before my hostel locks up for the night (Lonely Planet has nothing good to say, so it's empty, but it's really not a bad place aside from dim lighting). I have a little over 45 minutes to find dinner, so I'm gonna split. I'll be off the grid because my sleeper class nightmare on the mail train will last a good 36 hours. Sweeeeet. I just gotta remind myself: when I get off the train, it will be to ride an elephant in search of tigers....

From bummed out to best day ever

First things first:
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OBAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
What a world of difference in my mood from the last post to today. Dan and Sonia are my rescuers. Yesterday I stopped in on my friend Dan of Nirvana days in New Orleans. We worked together for a long time, but we'd lost track of one another over the years. I managed to score his email address from a mutual friend and looked him up here in Mumbai. I took the train out to the suburbs where he and his wife Sonia live in this lovely homey appartment with their sons Slade and Dave. It was just what I needed - familiar faces, happy kids, and a place that feels like a home rather than a flophouse for transients.
Dan picked me up from the station on his motorcycle (sorry, Mom). I'd never been on one before, and it was really scary with the wild Indian no-rules driving going on all around. Good thing I trust Dan implicitly...We got to go visit the little cottages he has set up on a nearby island. What a difference from the hustle and bustle of the city. It's this great little compound with fruit trees and hammocks (and a treehouse!). Then we hit the beach and took a ride (three of us on his bike, sorry again Mom) down the sand with the sea on one side, palms on the other, and the sea breeze in our faces. It may be one of my favorite memories of the trip so far.
Then we got home to the boys, who are as different as night and day. Slade, the elder of the two, is very quiet, while Dave is the type of boy who bounces off the walls. The two of them showed me their drawings and had me doing cartwheels in the living room with them. Such fun! Dan and Sonia are incredibly generous, and when they found out that I had to wait an extra day to get the train I wanted, they insisted that I spend the night and join them for his sister's 40th birthday party, which was really fun, too.
This morning after the boys went to school we hit a Bollywood movie. Their niece Danica was an extra in it, which was really exciting. Then we hustled back to put me on the train so I could come back and collect my luggage from the storage room before it closed, and I'm back in Mumbai until about 11 when my train leaves for Aurangabad and the Ellora caves.
So thank you, Dan and Sonia, for your generosity and hospitality. It was exactly what I needed, and it was so wonderful to see you again!

Sigh...

Poor Mumbai. I haven't given it the exploration it so deserves because between jet-lag-style siestas and my many hours poring over my guidebook to figure out how to squeeze in as much India as possible, I've barely left the neighborhood (tourist central) that my hotel is in.

I'm finding the train system very difficult to navigate. The website can't handle changes of trains, and the giant train schedule book I bought contains no maps of where each route goes, so I'm stuck guessing which combination of trains (or trains and busses) I'll have to take to get where I need to go, which is taking forever. I'm only on the 2nd leg of my many-many-many-legged trip, and I can't seem to figure out any trains that will take me where I want to be. It's like going to Amtrak for a trip from Boston to Chicago only to be told it's impossible because I'd have to change trains in NY.

Plus, travel fatigue is starting to set in. I know, I know, we should all be so lucky to go gallivanting around the world for five months as an unemployed bum, seeing amazing places firsthand, but I miss home. I miss my friends. I miss my family. I miss knowing where I'm going and how to get there. I miss being able to decide if I should buy something without trying to convert currency in my head (those of you who know my mathematical skills know how easy that is for me). I miss walking down streets that aren't a gauntlet of hawkers and I really miss fixed pricing. I miss cooking and grocery stores and laundry and my own bed. I miss sitting down in front of the TV and getting my nightly political news fix, and being able to watch whatever I want without having to ask if the other 10 people in the common room don't mind watching it with me. I miss Dee's cat curling up in front of the TV with me and trying to lick my dinner.

I miss having a job! Who knew? I miss having a routine and a sense of purpose when I get up in the morning. I miss the kids - from the stupid tantrums I get to tell stories about to the eureka moments when they smile and say "Oh! I get it now." I miss the satisfaction of getting home knowing I worked my butt off and accomplished something, even if I'm grateful not to have to face the feeling like my hard work went in one ear and out the other. I miss feeling like I have made my daily contribution to society. I really, really miss having an income. It's nerve racking.

But there's good news, at least. Tomorrow I get to see Dan, my friend from Nirvana in New Orleans. It's been five years since I saw him last, so it'll be great to see him and his wife and the boys again (the kids are going to be huge! I won't recognize them!). I'm heading up to West Mumbai tomorrow to visit, and then if all goes well with my scheduling fiascoes tonight, I'll be boarding an overnight train tomorrow to get to my first stop, the Ellora cave temples. That means I'll miss the start of the election returns, but hopefully when I get to the train station there'll be a net cafe for me to update myself. Go Obama!!! If you're registered to vote, go out and soak in the polls for me.

Bollywood star?

Alas, I was not discovered yesterday. News flash: being an extra is really, really boring. Especially when you're filming the end credits of a movie. We stood around and clapped and looked excited for 12 hours - with the same song looped in the backround. No crazy Bollywood dancing. Although speaking of dancing, it appears I have missed my calling. Had I but known at 18 that a dancer of my caliber (read: not that great) could be a professional film dancer in India, I woulda hopped on a plane and done it. There were a bunch of frustrated Russian ballerinas who were their dance corps (six of them), and the choreography was really easy. Alas for missed chances. But on the up side, the choreographers looked strangely familiar - I have to check and see if they've done anything on So You Think You Can Dance.
So today I have a bunch to do. I need to find another place to stay because I can't handle all the roaches and other assorted bugs at Salvation Army, which is a shame because it seems that everywhere else is insanely expensive. Sigh. And by insanely expensive I mean over 500 rupees (10 bucks). I thought India was cheap! That's as bad as Israel. I also have to figure out my itinerary so I can get my train tickets for the rest of the month. Lots of logistics. After I handle all that, I may go down to the Dhobi Ghats to see the laundry capital of Mumbai (a bunch of ladies whacking your clothes against rocks).