A Little History, Culture & News from India

Aurangabad

In February, we spent a long weekend in Aurangabad, which is a smaller city of about 870,000 people one hour (by air) east of Mumbai. We went to get away, but also to see the Ajanta and Ellora Caves, which are ancient sites with Buddhist, Hindu and Jain (another religion common in India) caves. The first picture is of Karen and a random group of Indians in a cave who asked if she would pose for a picture with them. This actually happens quite frequently, although more to Karen than me. The second picture is of some kids at the Daulatabad Fort that were really staring at us, so I took their picture and showed it to them, which they typically like. The picture requests and staring are sometimes because people are curious and foreigners are a novelty to them, but sometimes it seems the interest lies mainly in pictures of or with a pretty western lady. Speaking of pretty ladies, check out the four goddesses I spotted at the Aurangabad Caves. There is certainly something special about the three to the right, but the one to the left is still my favorite.

The Ellora Caves, a listed World Heritage site, range from 1,000 to 1,400 years old. They are a collection of 34 caves carved into the face of a large stone outcropping, with different sections dedicated to and created by the three different religions involved.

The first picture is of the largest monolithically carved sculpture in the world, which was impressive and was the best 'cave' of our Ellora and Aurangabad experience. There are some other pictures here of the caves and carvings. We actually missed the Ajanta Caves (half of the reason we went to Aurangabad), which are an older and apparently similar set of caves, as the site was closed the day we planned to go.

So we instead visited some local attractions: the Aurangabad Caves, the Daulatabad Fort, and the Bibi-qa-maqbara. There is a video below of the monkey antics we saw while hiking up to the Daulatabad Fort. Finally, there is a picture of the Bibi-qa-maqbara, which is a poorly maintained mausoleum built in 1679 by Aurangzeb, the namesake of Aurangabad, for his wife. It clearly resembles the Taj Mahal (also a mausoleum), which was built by Aurangzeb's father. It is smaller and lesser known, but was still nice to see.

Holi - The Festival of Colors

There is a major spring festival celebrated in India (and many other locations with large Hindu populations). I read about the significance of the festival; it is confusing and is rooted deep in one of the stories of the Gita (Hindu holy book). It relates to a mother deciding to apply color to her fair daughter's face (fairness is preferred in India) to make the fair sister and her darker brother more equal. On this day, people typically wear light/white clothing and expect to get colored. There are squirt guns, water balloons, bags of colored water, tons of colored powder, drinking and ingestion of other substances (marijuana drinks and snacks and perhaps something derived from opium). It seems mainly young people participate, but it is common for apartment building societies to hold parties in their courtyards. The activity seemed moderate and reasonable in Mumbai, but we've heard it can become gross and aggressive in other locations, with people throwing rotten eggs, urine, cow poop, etc. We were lucky enough to be invited by one of Karen's colleagues at the American School to the party at her house. The event started mid-morning and went through the afternoon. There was great catered Indian food, a DJ playing really loud Hindi music, and a garden hose (flowing with nozzle) tied to a light pole like a sprinkler to run through. When we arrived, there were kids running around - playing colors amongst themselves - already fairly well colored and wet. We went with three other western teachers from the American School; none of us knew what to expect or how to get started. But soon enough, the kids became bolder and we were pulled into the action and drenched. You can see Karen and some other ladies posing and dripping above, and then Karen, Swapna (our host) and Jane below that. I, a lover of squirt gun fighting (something I hadn't been able to do for a long time) went a bit crazy - becoming known as "Samosa Man" by the kids there. I still don't understand why that name - samosas are a prism-shaped, fried street snack with vegetables and potatoes in them - but that is fine. Certain kids made me their primary target and I had a great day chasing them around and getting blasted with bags and buckets of colored water. Karen was a little less active, which is I think why they decided to toss her in the mud. This was clearly gross, but makes for an entertaining video (see below). All in all, it was a great day and was probably our favorite festival of those we have seen in India.

A Punjabi Wedding

Last weekend, we had the opportunity to attend and participate in the festivities of an Indian wedding. The family of one of my old colleagues here (Amandeep) was one of three families hosting a wedding for Amandeep's sister-in-law's brother (I think) . For those that don't know, Punjabi refers to a community of people in India that are historically from the Punjab region in the north. They are also called Sikhs and are generally distinguishable (at least the men) by their headwear and beards. In the first picture, you can see Karen and I in the background awkwardly trying to dance with the crowd, but you can also see the groom's father (red turban) and a woman's hand with henna painting on it. Decorating women's hands with henna is a traditional part of marriages here; I think it looks pretty cool.

Indian weddings are a major family affair with many traditions and rituals. Parts of this grand event were scheduled from Friday through Monday, but we only attended the bharat (procession to the temple) and the wedding ceremony itself on Sunday. Going to the groom's family's house (which would also be the home of the bride and groom after the wedding) to observe the pre-ceremony activities was a fun and interesting experience. This picture shows the sister and other female relatives of the groom putting his blindfold on. The blindfold stayed on until the wedding ceremony when the bride came in. We did not know the bride or the groom before the wedding day, which was strange, but the kindness and hospitality of the family made it a welcoming environment. They fed us, gave us Diet Cokes, got us to dance and sit in pictures with them, and allowed us to experience first-hand many of the traditions in the wedding. At the wedding, there were hundreds of people in attendance. It was fully catered with varied Indian fare in a two-story venue. Eating and the social gathering took place on the open-air ground floor, with the temple and ceremony on the second floor. There was a reception on Monday night that we did not attend.

The wedding ceremony consisted of the families sitting, organized by bride side/groom side on the floor facing the front where the holy man (don't know the name) sat behind something like a pulpit (see the picture). He read the standard marriage scripture from their holy book aloud and everyone listened. The bride and groom sat in the center at the front, quietly listening. Four times during the ceremony, they stood up and walked around the pulpit, connected by a piece of pink fabric. After each of the first three walks, there was more reading from the book. Then, they made the final symbolic and solidifying walk around the pulpit, which constituted the point they were actually married. So they entered matrimony without saying a word - interesting. After the ceremony, the bride's brother gave a speech and everyone went back downstairs to eat again. There was a stage with thrones, which is where the picture of the newlywed couple, Karen and I was taken. At that point, we had known the groom for less than five hours and the bride for less than five seconds. Immediately before the picture was taken, and in anticipation of the puzzled look on her face as to who these random white people were at her wedding posing for a picture with her, our host of the day Gurdeep (Amandeep's gracious older brother), introduced us to the bride. Finally, the fairly entertaining video of the Bharat (without any footage of us dancing....although we did...in big Indian clothes and 93 degree F heat) is below [the video wouldn't upload...I'll try again later].

Time to Go

For those of you that have not heard, the time has unfortunately come for us to leave India. When we came, we expected our stay to be a couple years, but due to the global financial crisis and economic turmoil, my assignment here has been cut short. We actually only have a few weeks left in Mumbai, which is both sad and exciting at the same time. We are moving back to Denver where my company is headquartered, set to arrive in early May. There will be things we miss about India and living overseas and there will be things that are wonderful to have back in our lives. In this instance, we didn't have much of a choice, so we're off to the next chapter to see what it holds. At least I still have a good job. I'll miss the realism, intrigue and general chaos of India. We'll be happy to have clean air, food we recognize, and open spaces that allow us (and make us want) to do outdoor activities. At this point, we are focused on closing everything up with work and our personal affairs here, and readying ourselves for life in Denver (cars, home search, phones, etc.). There will likely be one more posting, to document anything interesting in our last few weeks here, our brief stops in Europe on the way home and our re-settling in Colorado. Thanks for reading and, if you're in the US or are headed to Cyprus for Joris and Stephanie's wedding, we look forward to seeing you soon!

Our Second Visitors: Mom and Dad

3 Weeks Home

As it turned out, I was able to extend my trip home over the holidays from one week to three weeks, which was nice. We bounced around the country, starting in Washington DC (Matt's parents), then Chicago (Karen's family), and I made a some extra stops in Denver and Seattle. Then it was back to Illinois, where Karen remained, for a couple days before flying back to Asia. It was nice being home and catching up with so many people. Thanks to everyone for their time and company, along with the cheer and generosities of the holidays. We were able to relax and regroup in preparation for the remainder of our time in India. Here are the latest versions of the Singleton and Wojcik family photos.

Shocking India

A few days after returning to Mumbai from the holidays, my parents arrived for a 2.5 week immersion in much of the good and bad that India has to offer. I had tried to warn them that India is a pretty shocking place, but words and pictures cannot really prepare someone for the variety of sights, smells and experiences actually encountered here. In the end, I am confident my parents had a good trip (see them in this first photo on a chilly morning in Agra at the Taj Mahal). Not everything was clean, organized or pleasant, but but being here is interesting and provides much perspective. Of course, we showed them around Mumbai, but fortunately they were also able to get out and see some other parts of the country; the highlights are provided below.

Mumbai

This first picture shows Karen and Mom sort of blending into the mix at a fabric market in South Mumbai (and some strangely intense Indian guy with a white shawl on the left). We went around and saw the typical sights, including the Taj Hotel and Gateway to India in Colaba (the places the terrorist attacks took place) as they were and remain essentialy and nice places to see in the city. We made a stop at the Hanging Gardens (a large park atop an underground water storage tank on Malabar Hill). The gardens are nice and are visible in the picture, but we were also able to see something I've somewhat sheepishly been wanting to see, also relevant to this picture. It is called a Tower of Silence and we didn't actually see it, but that is fine because you are not supposed to. My friend Nathan's father Gil, who lived in Mumbai for many years as a child, told me the Tower of Silence used to scare the something out of him. There is a community in India called the Parsi, which are decendents from Persia (Iran) that are as entrenched in modern India as much as the typical Indians you might think of. Parsis follow the Zoroastrian religion and a Tower of Silence is something like their cemetary. When a Parsi passes on, they place the body, which is considered dangerously unclean, on the Tower to be exposed to the sun and birds of prey. If you click the picture with the clock tower, you can see birds circling in the distance in the center of the image. These are vultures over the Tower of Silence, which in Mumbai is located on a hill shrouded by thick trees.

Afternoon at the Thakkars

We were fortunate enough to be invited once again to our driver's house for an afternoon and lunch. Beena made a great, home-cooked Indian meal (see picture) and we hung out for a few hours. Kite flying, like in the Kite Runner, is a very popular activity here among children. Many people fly small kites at one time and the goal is to cut the strings of other kites. Those kids that have already had their kites cut then run around collecting downed kites. The kite festival had just passed at the time of our visit, so my parents' gift of a big, US-style kite was especially timely; hopefully it doesn't fall victim to kite fighting anytime soon. The kids were spoiled that day with sweets and treats from America, as were we with generous hospitality and sincerity from the Thakkar family. The second picture has all of us, left to right: Sanjay, Swayam, Beena, Karan, Lynn, Julie, Matt and Karen.

Delhi & Agra

A few short days after their arrival, we shipped Mom and Dad, along with Sanjay, up to Delhi for a three day blast of India on their own. You can barely see Mom amidst a bunch of crazed Delhi school kids, who were excited to see foreigners and try out the English they are required to learn in school. Mom and Dad handled it well and made their way around Delhi itself and to somewhat nearby Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. Sanjay went as the familiar Indian host, but the sights were as new to him as they were to Mom and Dad. The local expertise came from the same driver we used on our trip to the North, Ramesh. This made for what I consider to be a fairly comical foursome cruising the tourist sites (see three of the four in the second picture in front of Agra Fort: Ramesh, Dad and Sanjay). Mom and Dad had not yet adjusted to the time zone change or India and were being led by a guy who had never been where they were and a driver that didn't speak English. In addition, neither Mom and Dad nor their Indian hosts, were particularly familiar with the cultural tendencies and preferences of the others. In this I am alluding to the perceived differences between drivers and more wealthy people in the lower-class Indian psyche. I think spending three days with my parents, who would be as kind and generous with their guides as they would with anyone else, must have been quite an experience for Sanjay and Ramesh. The other good thing about the trip, was that it gave Sanjay his first plane journey and a chance to see the Taj Mahal and other important Indian sights. The final picture in this section is of a chance elephant ride my parents were able to take on the side of the highway between Delhi and Agra.

The Keralan Backwaters

After a short recovery at the home base (our apartment) in Mumbai, we were all off to Southern India, to a state called Kerala. I'm not sure of the source, but the local tourism board for Kerala actually refers to the state as "God's Own Country", which has some merit. We headed straight for The Backwaters, a set of quiet inland waterways (fresh water) along the southwest coast of India, somewhat like the Everglades in Florida. We chartered a two-bedroom houseboat with a three-man crew, which was nice. Our vessel, the Sulthan, looked like most of the boats on the water - handmade, woven roof with interesting lines, and a few worn, yet homey touches to make it comfortable. We cruised slowly through the narrow channels, enjoying the sun and scenery, and the Keralan food that was a part of the package. Along the way, virtually every child that saw us from the banks would enthusiastically wave and call out to us. After some time, the captain of the boat told us the kids were asking for "just one pen", as apparently pens are hard to come by in Kerala. Had we known, we could have brought a box of Bic rollers. The picture with the yellow boat has a couple boys doing just this. I did also hear one kid asking for my camera. Strange, but entertaining, and a little sad. We spent the night on the boat, and pulled into a different port the next morning. The Backwaters were quite different from the India we normally know in Mumbai - quiet, calm, natural, and pretty. Here are the four of us on the back of the boat, tanned and prepared for a few days on the cliffs of Southern India over the Arabian Sea.

Varkala
I picked Varkala as it is a small beach town, outside the major cities, that has not yet been overbuilt with large resorts and hotels. We stayed at a quaint, four-room boutique hotel, managed by what may be the first flamboyantly gay guy I've met in India. Or he is just an eccentric guy. The Indian government recently determined that homosexuality is a disease - clearly a conservative view. Maybe that is why this guy hangs out in laid-back southern India. Varkala has cliffs and a couple beaches. The beach is pictured above. I'd say it was nicer than Goa's beaches, but nothing like the pristine paradise of the average tropical daydream. We rented two-wheelers (a small motorcycle for Mom and Dad and a scooter for Karen and I), which always instantly increases the fun factor of any warm vacation. Once Dad figured out the opposite gearing and malfunctioning transmission of his hog, as well as driving on the wrong side of the road in the standard road chaos of India, he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

We took a short daytrip to an unfortunate elephant 'center'. While it fulfilled the objective of riding an elephant and getting pictures of the same, it was a depressing experience. The place was basic, dirty and the animals were not in the best condition. I think we all felt guilty for being patrons. Nonetheless, the pictures and a video of Mom and Dad's ride are provided below (video at the bottom). The feeding part was fun; they can eat a whole bunch of bananas at one time, as well as a complete pineapple (including the bushy and pointy green part at the top). There were three elephants there, two adults and a young one. All of them appeared to be chained up most of the time. Our experience was with a 30-year old elephant named Aruba.

After the elephant trip, we all experienced our first (and most likely only) Indian massage. This was a crazy experience that left us feeling more violated than relaxed. The story is much better told in person, but to give a sense for the experience, it involved a dim and dirty room, no clothing other than something like a doctor's mask, a massage bed, tons of oil, and two people of the same gender as you. Upon the conclusion of our simultantous one-hour sessions (in different rooms), we left the place as quickly as possible and returned to the hotel to shower off the awkwardness and leftover oil. This experience, and the fact it was our last night of the Kerala trip, warranted a stop at the local "Wine Shop". You can see me above, in line with the locals, grabbing a few Kingfisher beers for the evening. We enjoyed them on the patio off the courtyard adjacent to Mom and Dad's room at the hotel, where we had breakfast each day. This more or less concluded our time in Kerala. Mom and Dad had a couple more days in Mumbai and then they suffered through the monumental 24-hour journey back to Washington DC, via Frankfurt, Germany.

We had a good time; everything went essentially as planned. They may be our final visitors here in India, as it looks like we'll be moving on sooner than later. Unfortunately, it is still unclear when and to where we will be heading next. We will find out soon, after which the adventure will continue. Thanks for reading, and thanks to Mom and Dad for making the long trek to such an uncertain place. As they say in India, "All the best."

A Bit More from Mumbai

Matheran

A while back, Karen and I took a last minute weekend trip to a place called Matheran (maw-tay-rahn), which is supposed to be the most beautiful "Hill Station" in Maharashtra (the state we live in). I think the term Hill Station is a remnant from the times of British rule when foreigners would take short vacations just out of the city in the mountainous areas, which led to certain places developing essentially as mountain resort towns. Matheran is one of these, and is located about three hours' drive from Mumbai. It is a village on top of a high plateau where motorized vehicles are not allowed. To get there, you drive up to a parking lot and then you have to walk or take a horse up the rest of the way (about an hour's walk). It turned out to be a pretty nice place; the town itself was a little cheesey (felt like a very strange and dusty carnival), but the surrounding trails and scenery were good. The town is essentially full of animals, about 5,000 locals desperate to make some money, and Indian tourists. Horses are the primary mode of transport - both for people and goods (other than walking). In addition to horses, there was an abundance of cows and goats ambling about the town, but also an incredible number of opportunistic monkeys running around the streets and buildings. The monkeys are wild, but are unfortunately very bold because of the touristic nature of the place. One tried to take Karen's purse (or at least get into it) while Karen and I were playing ping pong at a table outside. She had left the bag on a bench next to the ping pong table, that was coincidentally next to the trunk of a big tree. I tried to scare it by slapping the paddle on the table and shouting, but it just hissed and lunged at me - shocking and scaring me - and then went about trying to open the bag. Fortunately, the hotel staff noticed and engaged the monkey patrol (two guys with sling shots) and the punk monkey ran up the tree empty handed. I'd do better next time...damn monkey. Then later, one ran through our door (that I carelesslely left ajar) and across our patio and stole the breakfast off our neighbors' table (it was a glass enclosed, shared front porch). It was pretty funny, but our neighbors didn't seem to think so. The same monkey came back and tried to pry the door open, but the monkey patrol came back with a bamboo rod and scared it away. Pretty intense. Look at the crazy mommy monkey's face in the last picture (that is a baby one hanging below). Regardless of the monkey encounters, Matheran made for a decent retreat from the city and a good chance to wander through the woods away from motor vehicles.

Our Life Here

Once before, I put some pictures of the inside of our apartment on the blog, but that probably didn't give a good sense for what it is really like here. So I thought some pictures and a video might be intersting. The first picture (the building) is of Satguru Sharan, the building that we live in. Our place is on the "first" (really the second) floor, which puts us unpleasantly close to the street. It is only a local street, but it is incredibly loud - most noticibly at night. There are a couple restaurants around, a coffee shop and two schools. So at certain times, there are hundreds of kids in uniforms going to or coming from the schools. In addition, there are trucks, cars, motorcycles, auto rickshaws (the black and yellow tricycle vehicles in the picture), and people advertising their products or services by shouting in the streets. Karen and I often mimick them, although we have no idea what they are saying or selling - another one of our odd forms of entertainment here. One other item of note is that I have obtained both a legal Indian driving license and a moped to go with it. This picture is of the Singleton fleet here in Mumbai in the parking garage in our building. Of course, there is our Toyota Innova minivan/SUV, but you can also see our always stationary bicycles (haven't been ridden since Denver...three cities ago!) and the moped. Scooters, being a primary mode of transportation in a relatively poor city, are very cheap here. So, we now own a 2008 Honda Aviator - dark metallic grey, equipped with a 'sari-step'...a standard feature on all two-wheelers in India where most women ride on the back side-saddle, stupidly without helmets. The sari-step is the silver thing behind Karen's left calf in the picture; she doesn't use it. She does, however, regularly request joyrides around town to run errands and entertain ourselves...there is not that much to do here and riding around now, when it is not the monsoon season, is pretty nice. It seems locals here think we are a pretty funny sight - a couple foreigners, on a shiny new scooter, with matching shiny helmets, rolling through the chaos and filth of Mumbai. I also went around and shot some footage in the streets and markets near our apartment. The video at the bottom provides a pretty realistic look at our neighborhood - where we buy fruits and vegetables, the places we eat and the type of people we see wandering around.

Although it is usually sunny and about 90 degrees F during the day (75 at night) and there are palm trees outside our windows, we are slowly working ourselves into some kind of Christmas spirit. It's a bit difficult here, but we have a few decorations out. Karen is posing here with our "Deli Cake" Christmas tree from the fakes market in China. We're definitely looking forward to getting out of India for a few weeks. We'll be in Europe and then in the States in less than a week, where we'll get to see friends and relatives and take a break from the chaos here. Happy Holidays!