Malarial Trials

I always seem to get malaria just before travelling to places I am afraid to go. Last year when I was on the road to Port Harcourt for the first time, I was also coming down with malaria. Which made the 18 hour bus ride that much more painful.

Two weeks ago on Saturday, I started getting a strange headache while I was getting ready to go out with some friends. I decided to lay down until they arrived to pick me up. I thought maybe by meditating a bit on the pain, and dissecting it Vipassana style, I might be able to realize that there was no centre and the pain was all an illusion brought on by some kind of clinging and/or attachment tied to some unconscious issue I was ignor(ance)ing. 

To my surprise, doing this did not make the pain disintegrate. Instead it made me feel as if my awareness was shrinking to the size of an atom inside a gigantic body that I had no control of. That was when I started to suspect that it was not just a normal headache.

That didn't stop me from going out though. . .and waking up with a fever the next day. That was the signal to go to the clinic for a blood test which confirmed what I was pretty certain of by then: I had malaria.

I began taking the medication immediately and went home to rest. I would have loved to write or read but sickness is like life's conspiracy to give you all the time off you need to do everything you are totally incapacitated to do. Which is what makes sickness so frustrating.

I have a tendency to lose patience with these contradictions of life and try to overcome them with unyielding persistence and stubbornness. "Alright life, I'm listening. What is my problem? Why did you give me malaria right before my trip to Kano?"

Oh right, trip to Kano. I didn't mention that yet, did I?

The partners and program I am supporting in my placement are all in Kano. I have not  yet been to Kano because of insecurity challenges. Since the volunteers were finishing their program and having a ceremony on August 27th, my colleague and I in Abuja were planning to attend. Security was contacted and our trip was approved. The allowance was distributed. The plane tickets were booked. Everything was go.

Then I got malaria. Hmm. Interesting. I see what you're getting at, life.

I had tried to push my concern about the trip out of my mind. I knew there was a risk but I didn't want to think about how significant that risk was or what kind of psychological effect it might have on me. I'm not saying that this was the sole reason I got malaria. I'm not even saying this had anything to do with why I got malaria. I know that for the two weeks before, mosquitoes had been especially bad and I had gotten bitten over fifteen times. The likelihood was high that I would contract malaria.

But can you deny the significance of timing like that?? I felt like life was giving me an ultimatum. I needed to look at this seriously. I needed to decide, not just because I felt kind of bad for never actually seeing the volunteers I was working for, whether or not I was really ok with a trip to Kano.

But malaria made it easy. I felt very sure that if I wasn't feeling too horrible to get on the plane, I wouldn't have any problem in Kano. I called my supervisor and told her that I would be there for the airport pick up, but take the morning to rest. . . . .

Stay tuned!

Predeparture

My snow cloud rolling
frozen land
What secrets do you hold?
What parts of you will time unfold
When I return to you?
Points that never seemed so sharp
Comforts to sink into
Memories forgotten
New habits I've grown into
What parts of me will wear away?
What parts too essential?
Pare away these layers of time
to reach the differential

First Visit to Nigeria: Part 3

On Sunday night the nation was waiting by their TVs as the president was expected to make an address at 9:00pm to reveal the result of negotiations with the Labour union.  We were hoping and expecting that the strike would be called off.  We had been stuck inside for a week and the next day was my birthday!  Aside from purely selfish concerns, an ongoing strike could also mean food and fuel shortages, cancelled flights, and lack of medical care for another week. . .or more.

At 9 o'clock the power was cut.  Everyone rushed to their generators to try to get their TVs working in time for the speech.  5 minutes later, the familiar “brrrrrrrrrrrr” of generators outside, droned in the background of our auditory cortices.  Tvs back on, we saw that the presiden't's speech had been post-poned as he had finished only one set of conversations and had now entered into talks with another group.  Hmmm.

We waited until 12am and the president still hadn't come on, so we gave up and went to bed.  It seemed like a pretty hopeless situation.  Without the president's address the labour union would continue their strike.  Everything became uncertain.  What would we do about our already depleted monetary resources?  How would I get home? What about food?  What about fuel? How was the government going to react to civil disobedience for another week?  And our problems, I'm sure, were minimal compared to a vast number of Nigerians.  It seemed like a pretty hopeless situation none-the-less.  I wrote a rap about it.  Happy Birthday to me.

When we woke up and checked the news the next day it was confirmed that the strike was continuing.  The president had addressed the nation around 12:30am and had resolved to reduce the fuel price to 96 Naira which the labour union had thus far, rejected.  The strike was continuing as a stay-at-home strike and the military was occupying the space previously used by the protestors.  Flights within, into and out of Nigeria were cancelled.  Feeling defeated my boyfriend and I decided to make breakfast, wash our clothes and hide in our bedroom for the rest of the day.

When we finished washing our clothes though, my boyfriend got a call from one of his friends who was traveling into Lagos that day.  Not only was he only a few minute away but he informed us that the strike had been called off!  We rushed to the Tv to confirm the news and sure enough, he was right!  The labour union accepted the 96 Naira increase in the fuel price and had called off the strike!  This (and my birthday!) was a means for celebration!
We met up with my boyfriend's friend, got dressed and went to Ikeja with him and his friend for dinner.  We then went to Afrika Shrine to celebrate!  Afrika Shrine was erected by the famous Afrobeat pioneer and social activist Fela Kuti's son Femi Kuti in tribute to his father.
For anyone who doesn't know the iconic Fela Kuti, you can watch the documentary “Music is the Weapon”.

It was a pretty cool place.  There were murals of Fela and his band and other memorabilia from their group.  Not very many people were there that night though.  The strike had just finished and apparently Femi Kuti was calling out the government for corruption and so there was some fear that people at Afrika shrine may be seen as supporters of Femi Kuti and so it may not be a wise place to be.  It wasn't the case for us at least though.

That night we stayed in a hotel and the next day we went to Lagos island.  I was able to buy some nice fabric, music (like Sunny Bobo!), get my hair plaited and see another part of Lagos.  Lagos island was nice but we didn't have too much time to look around unfortunately.

The next day we just stayed in Lagos and traveled around to get some errands done with our host before my flight home the following day.
I visited my boyfriend's brother's family once again and picked up the clothes that the seamstress had finished sewing.  They were almost perfect!  A few adjustments and I had 2 dresses, 2 skirts and 1 blouse that fit perfectly!  It was hard to say goodbye to my boyfriend's brother's family and their 2 adorable children.  We had to tell his 4 year old daughter that we were going to go to the store to buy her things and come back. . .of course she didn't believe us. . .which resulted in tears.

I said goodbye to our host and his family and we left for the airport around 5:30pm although my flight wasn't until 9:30pm.  We wanted to make sure that go-slows didn't make me late.

Saying goodbye to my boyfriend was really hard.  We had 5 months of everyday together.  Cooking together, eating together, sleeping together, traveling together and it was wonderful. . .and suddenly it felt like I was losing my left arm.  E no easy.  We're still not sure exactly when the next time we're going to see each other is, which doesn't make it any easier but we're hopeful and working on a plan to be together.

Anyway, I really liked Nigeria and was sad to leave.  I know there are a lot of things that would deter a lot of people from going, even a lot of the things that happened to me or  happened while I was there.  There are certainly some dangerous things, terrorist attacks, safety was a constant worry, some people seemed to expect financial help after greeting me and a lot of the comforts that I enjoy in Canada were not there.  Eating was a bit of a problem also since I don't eat meat.  Even though all of that is true, I still want to go back.  The people were very friendly and welcoming and there are still a lot more people that I need to meet in the east of the country.  I didn't get to try any of the good fruits or food in the east or see any live music!!!  We'll see what the future holds I guess.

Part 2                                                                                                                          Part 1

First Visit to Nigeria: Part 2

The ride back to Lagos was equally long. We got off to a good start but an oil tanker that had fallen over caused a big go slow just outside of Lagos. Lagos. If you want to leave; go-slow. If you want to come; go-slow. If you want to stay; go-slow. Sigh.

Anyway, we eventually got home and slept for the night. The next day was new year's eve. We didn't do much that day either because we needed to recover from our extended travel from the night before. At midnight, though, we lit fireworks on the street outside the compound to celebrate 2012. Despite my firework phobia, I managed to light a few of the fireworks myself! Many people in the neighbourhood were lighting fireworks but it was nothing compared to Diwali in India or even New Year's in Gracias,Honduras!

The next day we met with my boyfriend's brother who took us to drink more Star and eat fish.  His brother was very happy to see him since he'd been away for 2 years and was excited to meet me too.  He told me some family stories and invited us to come and stay with him and his family for a few days while we were in Lagos.  Since my boyfriend last saw him he's been remarried and has 2 small children.

That night we went out to a club in Lagos to dance a little.  I'm not sure why exactly but the club we went to wasn't very busy so we didn't do a lot of dancing.  After the club, on the way home, we stopped to buy gas and noticed the original price of 65 Naira/L had suddenly become 140 Naira/L!  More than double over night!!

The next day go-slows were significantly less prevalent!!  But the outrage at the fuel subsidy removal was apparent and understandable.  During the initial days of the fuel subsidy removal there was a lot of talk about corruption, unhappiness, strike, riots, etc. but everything was still operating as usual. . .which was fortunate for me because I needed to pay for my plane ticket home through the bank.  The nationwide strike to protest the fuel subsidy removal started with a small group and continued throughout the week, but it didn't effect most people.  To be safe, we didn't move around much during that week, we went to the markets, the bank and park close by but thought it unwise to be traveling throughout the city. By Friday, the Labour Union announced their plans to strike beginning on Monday.  On Sunday we shifted to my boyfriend's brother's house.  We went to the market and the fuel station on the way and filled up on food, fuel and kerosene.  There is a big problem with power (sometimes it doesn't come at all in a day) in Lagos so most people that can afford it also have gasoline powered generators to power their houses during power outs.

We were planning to stay only for 2 or 3 days but when the Labour Union actually went through with the strike on Monday (we weren't sure that they would), our plans began to change.  The strike was broadcast on TV and the radio (due to the power, a lot of the time we were only hearing what was happening via radio) but looked like a lot of fun!  There were musicians, DJs, dancing and overall merriment.  Of course there were a lot of protesters too and people condemning the government's removal of the fuel subsidy.  The protest continued to swell for the rest of the week, much to our dismay.  The protest also seemed to take on many different forms.  It was initially outrage over the fuel subsidy.  Then we heard that the protest was hijacked by the opposing political party to the president.  Then we heard that most of the protesters were protesting corruption generally and didn't want to stop protesting until justice had been served.  Then we heard that it was all a scam determined by the higher-ups of the government and labour union, the end game being that the government would propose a lower increase (like maybe 100 Naira) and then, since it was lower than 140 Naira, people would accept it and it would cause less trouble than if they just raised it to 100 Naira in the first place. . .hmmm

It was recommended that we didn't leave the house until after 5-6pm when the protesters disbanded for the night even though the protest wasn't happening especially close to where we were in Lagos.  We weren't able to go anywhere, we weren't able to change money, the trip to Lagos came to a halt.  However, other than that, there were no problems at all and we got to spend a lot of time with my boyfriend's brother and his family.  It was a bit trying to be stuck inside all day with an attention seeking 4 year old, but it was fun.  We managed to still go out to a bar one night, buy material to make clothes, hire a seamstress and eat copious amounts of food!  The following Sunday we returned to our previous home while the protesters took the weekend to rest and watch the results of the negotiations between the president and the labour union.

Part 1                                                                                                                                          Part 3

The price of gas

Yesterday the gas prices doubled over night.  The price was 65 Naira/Litre (which is about $0.41CAD) until the 1st of January when the government decided to lift the fuel subsidy as a very special new year's gift to the people of Nigeria. On the 2nd of January it was 140 Naira/Lirtre ($0.88CAD).  um.
Meanwhile the biggest oil spill in 30-something years is killing fish and threatening the lives of locals in the Niger Delta.
Not to mention 4 states are in a state of emergency. . .
Uwa nka safe  (Igbo for: What kind of world is this?!)

Leaving India

Leaving India was one of the most stressful , frustrating and ridiculous events in my life so far.  For anyone who knows me well, I think that’s saying something.

The trouble began about one month prior to leaving India but since I decided to go from India to Nigeria instead of somewhere easier to get to (like. . .say. . .home), I’ll accept the initial tribulations as my own fault.  Those being: applying for Nigerian visa, the process taking longer than expected, needing to extend my Indian visa by 2 weeks, acquiring Nigerian visa.
Anything that requires official documentation, appointments, embassies, municipal offices etc. is never a walk in the park.  But in Delhi it’s all compounded by travelling through the city (although the metro has done  wonders to improve that aspect), finding places to print things, haggling with rickshaw drivers, nobody knowing directions. . .It was like swimming upstream in molasses trying to get through all the bureaucracy and accomplish everything in a timely manner.
But again, if I just decided to go home, or any number of other places, this all could have been avoided. I throw up my hands and accept the blame.

However!  Actually leaving India was a whole different story.  My last two posts were the beginning of trouble,  but even all of the train and bus drama of getting to Ahmedabad was  nothing compared to what happened next.

The hotel in Ahmedabad was about 10min from the airport. The hotel staff were suspicious of us and flipped through all of the pages of both our passports, made us fill out a form restating all of the information and photocopied all of our passport information. Many Indians have a bad impression of Nigerians (to be fair, many Nigerians are involved in illegal activities in India but the media makes it seem like all black people in India are criminals, which obviously isn't the case) and my visa was expiring in 2 days, the same day as our flight out. After some heated words in Gujarati were exchanged between several employees, the front desk man decided he would give us a room. He carried our bags up the stairs and unlocked the door for us. After a few minutes there was a knock on the door. It was another employee who insisted that we fill out yet another form and sign it before he would leave. Once that was finished we  arranged our things, ordered food and slept.  I started feeling uneasy though. . .I attributed it to the movie I watched while waiting for our food.

The next day started well enough. Our flight was the following morning at 4:25am so we still had about 20hr to chill in Ahmedabad.
In the afternoon, while my boyfriend was taking a nap, I received a reminder email from Emirates for our flight and online check in.
I thought, 'why not?' and proceeded through the series of clicks to be checked in. Before confirming, a disclaimer popped up: The passenger is responsible for proper documentation for entry to the UAE. I had checked when I made the booking to make sure that we did but decided that I should double check to make sure. . .big mistake.

The information on the Emirates website claimed that if we had a stop over in Dubai for more than 24 hours we required UAE visas.  Because of the holiday rush, when we booked the flight, we were able to find the cheapest fare on a flight leaving Ahmedabad on the 21^st at 4:25 (arriving and 6am) and leaving Dubai on the 22^nd  at 14:15, which meant a stopover of about 32 hours.
Neither of us had UAE visas.

First I called Emirates.  I explained the situation. We didn't want to leave the airport in Dubai, was a visa necessary?!
Unfortunately it was.
The attendant gave me the number of the UAE immigration and visa office, who informed me, without a trace of sympathy, that not only was a visa necessary but it was impossible to get one in such a short period of time.

Fantastic.

I called Emirates twice more to get a second opinion and to see if any flights leaving Dubai on the 21^st had become available.
Visas were still necessary. They were sold out of seats except in business and first class until the 24th. They probably wouldn’t let us board the flight in Ahmedabad since we didn’t have the proper onward visas.

Wonderful.

I roused my peacefully sleeping boyfriend, panic in my stomach and tears running down my face.
We went to the airport. After waiting for about 30 minutes to see someone, we were finally able to talk to a representative from Emirates. He was very nice but unable to help us much. He took us to see the immigration officer at the airport. . .who told us to go to the high commissioner of police in Ahmedabad to extend my visa til the 24th.

By this time it was 5pm and we were told the police station would be closed. People seemed to think an extension wouldn't be an issue though.

I called Emirates and changed our flight to the 24th. That way, we would be able to go to Dubai without a visa. . .I just needed to get an extension. . .

When we got back to the hotel the people at the front desk informed us that they knew the police commissioner! They called the police station and found that they were still open! We took an auto rickshaw to the police station, about 20min from our hotel.

At the police station, ceiling fans curled up the edges of papers piled on the numerous empty desks. The commissioner was out. I waited for him on a small metal stool. Finally his colleagues informed me there was nothing they could do. They didn't have the authority to extend any visa, especially tourist visas, from their office. Not even one day. If I needed an extension I would need to go back to Delhi. . .nooooooooooooooo.  I waited for about 30min for the commissioner, crying at this point but they insisted that the result would be the same no matter how long I waited.

Fortunately, one man at the police station felt at least a hint of compassion for me. He knew the supervisor of Emirates who was working at the Ahmedabad airport and gave him a call. This man, Abishek (who I am eternally grateful exists, Thank you Abishek wherever you are!!!!), insisted that a visa wasn't necessary and that we would be able to get the 96 hour visiting visa on arrival to Dubai if we bought a hotel package. Since I had been hearing nothing but the opposite all day, it was hard to believe him. The police guy gave me his number and I left the police station still crying from frustration.

In the dying light outside the police station we were mobbed by a group of curious children who thought it would be a good idea to poke us with sticks while we tried to hail an auto rickshaw back to our hotel. Perhaps they were unconvinced that we were real. I was pretty unconvinced of reality myself at this point.

It was now almost 7pm. We gave the rickshaw driver we got our hotel card with the address on it, and he insisted he could get us there. Then he pulled over every 5 minutes to ask directions. . .which no one knew. . .and took us in the wrong direction for almost 30 min before we realized we were getting ourselves into even more trouble. We made him stop, argued with him about the cost, gathered a crowd who helped us sort it out and also assisted in getting us into a another rickshaw that did know the way.  The correct route home took us almost 45 minutes from where we were. . .making it about 8:30pm by the time we got to the hotel.  We were running out of time and options. . .

The hotel people were anxious because my visa was expiring and didn't want us staying in the hotel with an expired visa because it could get them into trouble with the police. . .aiya

I called Abishek who once again assured us that we would be able to get a visa upon arrival in Dubai if we made a hotel reservation. I told him I had already changed our flight to the 24th and he advised us to come to the airport around 12am anyway.

My boyfriend and I had to have a serious talk.
Maybe Abishek was right.  . .if so, we could change the flight back to the 21st and leave for Dubai. . .the hotel package in Dubai might be expensive but at least we wouldn't have to deal with immigration problems.
Going back to Delhi wasn't really an option (neither of us wanted to entertain the idea of going back to Delhi for another minute) since I had already had my visa extended once and there was no guarantee anyone would give it to me, especially in such a short time. If refused it would just be more trouble leaving India.
If we couldn't go to Dubai, my boyfriend advised me to just change my fight, refund the money from Emirates, and fly back to Canada. His visa was fine until February so he could just stay. That would be a shame since so many people were expecting us in Nigeria, but it might be the only way.

We showered, packed and went to the airport at 12am to see Abishek.  If necessary I could refund the ticket and get my money back there and could book the flight to Canada when we got back to the hotel.  As long as the flights left India by 11:59pm on the 21st we would be fine, and there seemed to be lots of flights still available for that.

We hadn't really eaten all day and neither of us had any appetite left to eat because of the stress. We were tired and hungry and losing hope.

We got to the airport put our bags through security and found Abishek.  He told us again that we would be able to get a visa in Dubai and would definitely be able to leave Ahmedabad. There were still seats available on the flight from Ahmedabad to Dubai so he booked us into the flight but we couldn't get a flight out of Dubai until the 24th! After paying a fee (yes, conveniently for Emirates, there is always a fee. . .I already paid to shift to the 24th and then I had to pay again. . .) we were booked in.  The catch was, also had to sign a document that said if there were any problems with getting a visa in Dubai, Emirates was not responsible and we would have to pay any cost incurred. . .like for being deported back to India. . .where my visa was expired. . .and I would be caught in international airport limbo for the rest of my lifeeeeeeeeee!!!!
It wasn't a very reassuring document.  But we got through check in, immigration, security and onto our flight!

When we arrived in Dubai we were still tense. We weren't sure what to do. We kept asking people where we could get the 96 hour visa and they directed us to the Emirates desk but seemed confused as to why we were so concerned.  One lady didn't want to say directly but implied that if we just stayed in the airport, no one would bother us. Another lady, after listening to our abbreviated story and hearing that in India they said we needed a visa, responded with: "And you believed them!?"

At the hotel and visa reservations desk the man said a visa would be no problem. It would cost about $350 though. Maybe we should go to the reservations and bookings desk and see if there are any onward flights left today. He seemed confident we could get one.

We needed to sit down.  This was too much.  There was so much trouble in India and now that we were in Dubai all of our troubles had suddenly melted away.  We started cracking up. I was laughing and crying at the same time.

We went to the reservations desk and there WERE onward flights to Lagos that afternoon. . .(of course we had to pay the fee again!) and it was the same price as the one booked. We paid, laughed some more and, now that the knots in our stomachs had mostly dissipated, got some much needed food and rest.

When we boarded our flight, the lady that took our boarding passes looked at her computer before exclaiming: "This is your lucky flight!  You've been bumped up to business class!"

So we flew business class in utter disbelief to Lagos.  We enjoyed gourmet meals off of a menu, chairs that completely reclined and massaged the stress out of our tired backs, wine and Godiva chocolates.  Normally I would have been a bit perturbed by the frivolity of business class, but on this particular occasion, I did not complain.

The universe decided to prove me wrong (-__-)

Just as I was explaining how everything seemed to miraculously work out ok in my post earlier today, we missed our train!  We left around 1:30pm to get to the station at 3:20pm but got stuck in a traffic jam about 5km from the station and missed the train by 5 minutes!
What to do?
So we spent a few hours in the station trying to figure out our options. . .we could try for the train at 10:45pm. . .but there's no seats and we would need to board with a general ticket and hope that the conductor can/will find us a place to sit/sleep for the 20 hours of travel. . .hmm
Flights to Ahmedabad for tonight at 11:30pm are about $100 per person. . .that's also an option. . .but pricey. . .hmmm
While standing in line to try our luck a second time with the 10:45 train, an agent for a bus company tried to offer his services to us.  First he played the "helpful nice guy", trying to assist us in getting our ticket. . .when he saw that there were no tickets available he became the "helpful nice bus guy" who's company was offering a bus to Ahmedabad leaving in 10min. . .hmmmmmmmmm

After another mad scramble of getting our things arranged; from the railway station to the agent's office, on 2 bicycle rickshaws for a 2km ride to the bus pick up, on to the bus (all in less than 20min) and 2090 rs. . .we are on a sleeper bus somewhere in Rajasthan heading towards our destination.  We should arrive tomorrow around 1pm. . .apparently.  We'll see how that goes!

On the road again. . .or rather, in the air again

I'm leaving Delhi today!!!  It's been about 5 months since I started living here but my visa is expiring soon so it's time to leave.  Typically. . .even leaving India won't be typical.  First I'm taking a 16 hour train out of Delhi (that hopefully won't be delayed or cancelled due to fog). . .but so far there's no scheduled delay.  Then I'm flying to Canada? Sri Lanka? Nepal? Thailand? England? nope.  Dubai.  From THERE i'm again flying to. . .??  If you guess correctly and I haven't already told you I'll send you a postcard!! hehe :)
It's been interesting living in Delhi. . .I've seen and learned a lot of things.  I've met some really great people in really unexpected places and overall have had a really great time.  There certainly have been a few difficult times. . .like when my eye swelled up and I looked like a sasquatch for few days and dealing with harassment for being a foreign female. . .but nothing too serious.
Although I don't much like the city, I will probably miss Delhi in some ways.  As frustrating as it is to get things done in an even remotely timely manner, I like the chaos.  I like the reality.  Everything; the very poor and the ridiculously rich, Muslims, Hindus and Christians, beautiful buildings and garbage everywhere, greenery, parks and raw sewage all side by side somehow living together.  There is certainly a structure to what's going on.  There are multiple hierarchies and factors conglomerating to produce the present. . .but just taking a step outside of it all and watching it happen is really something.  I'm always amazed at how everything seems to work out, maybe not efficiently or without hiccups, but it eventually gets done/we arrive safely etc.  Just watching from the outside and coming from a very different set of circumstances, you're confused at first about how it would be possible.  Then slowly you stop wondering and just accept that everything will work out fine. . .and usually it does.
But that's it for now.  On to another adventure in another country in another continent (hint!). . .

Back From Ladakh: Part III

The next day we decided to take it easy.  Around noon we took a walk down Changspa lane stopping at a few shops and Tibetan markets on the way to find lunch.  After eating we continued down Changspa lane which ended at the stairway to the Shanti Stupa.  Since the sky wasn't overly clear, which I felt would impede our view of the mountains, we decided to save climbing up to the stupa til the next day and opted for an unguided tour of mystery and wonder around Leh.  Equally exciting!  We began walking in the direction of the old town, walked through the fair grounds, and continued on to the bus station for some chai, thinking it would be cheaper than in the tourist area of the town (but then when the lady asked for 16 rupees, 8 each, I thought she said 60 rupees!!  For tea!?!? x_x;).
We continued further down the main road behind the bus stop and observed some local lifestyle.  Fruit and vegetable vendors lined the streets, chatting to each other with no pretense of a care for business; giant radishes, carrots, zucchini, apricots and apples spread in front of them.  Shoppers ducked in and out of food and clothing shops, and students were taking the road back from school, enjoying snacks with their friends.  Prayer wheels and other Buddhist structures stood hidden in unexpected places.  We stopped to buy something at one of the shops and the shopkeeper, from Kashmir, insisted on getting us chai (again!) and asking as many questions as possible before we decided to leave.
Where are you from?How do you like India?Have you been to Kashmir?How long are you in Ladakh?When did you come?etc.etc.etc.
When we got a chance, we thanked the shopkeepers for the chai and escaped!  We continued walking which eventually resulted in a big loop that took us back to the main tourist area.  On the way back we saw some guys sitting across from each other, playing a game infront of a souvenir shop.  The game was played on a square board with holes in each corner and small discs.  The men saw us looking quizzically at them playing and motioned for us to come over.  We did.  They insisted that I play against one of them. . . . .I did!  The game was played like pool/snooker but with your fingers as the cue instead of any instrument, one player had to get all of the black discs into the corner holes and the other player had to get all of the white discs into the holes.  The final disc was to be the orange one and you had to use a communal disc to hit the other discs..  I am possibly the WORST whatever-this-game-is-called player in the world.  I was beat  in about 2 minutes and one of the guys started helping me since I was utterly hopeless on my own.  It was a good laugh.
The next day we climbed up to the Shanti Stupa and got a great view of the mountains, but not before getting a little lost!!  Due to something we had to do in town, and wanting to take a more adventurous route than the one we knew, we ended up not taking the Changspa Rd route and got a little lost in the process.  I'm sure that initially we were on the right track but after about 15 minutes of walking we found ourselves at a very sketchy looking bridge, and then in the middle of wheat fields. . . Fortunately, a girl that was washing her clothes led us through the fields to the road for the Stupa!  It was so nice of her, she just left her washing in the middle of the road!

Climbing up to the stupa was no laughing matter (ok, maybe if I hadn't been off the bike for 3 months and at such a high altitude, it would have been easy. . .) but the view of the mountains and Leh were worth it! The stupa had 4 murals of different aspects of the Buddha's life carved/painted on it.

We (read: I) hadn't had enough mountain climbing so we also climbed up to the fort beside the old royal palace for more incredible mountain views.  After this we were pretty tired and headed back into town for dinner and bed.

The rest of the time we just enjoyed the friendliness of Ladakhi people, the beauty of the landscape, clear air, quietness of the town and the garden in front of our guesthouse.  We helped one day to shell beans that they were drying for winter and ate apricots and apples directly from the trees in the garden.
Finally, and reluctantly, the morning of our return flight came. . .
Taking off from the mountainous desert. . .in the clouds.  The great mountain giants rise to their full stature beside us and slowly, slowly begin to shrink. . .the deep valleys becoming more shallow and further away. . .leading to foothills,

                             rivers,
                                       subdivisions,
                                                          houses,
                                                                     cars,
                                                                            cows, crowds, flatness, heat, traffic, dust, smog, mosquitos.  Hello Delhi. . .can't say that I missed you, this time.

Back From Ladakh: Part I                                          Back From Ladakh Part II

Back From Ladakh: Part II Pangong

The alarm woke us up at 4:30am. . .but we didn't actually get up until closer to 5.  We quickly found that our hot water was NOT working 24h a day. . .but we didn't have time to make use of hot water anyways.  We quickly got dressed and packed a few extra warm clothes, water and biscuits for the road.
Outside of our guest house, the morning air was cool and fresh.  The sun had not yet risen over the mountains and although the day was starting off cloudy, it was still bright enough to see clearly.  Most of Ladakh was still, quiet and sleeping. . .but as we neared the parking lot across from our departure point we saw many taxis and drivers getting ready for the long day of mountain driving that was surely ahead.  We arrived only 5 minutes late but our driver wouldn't arrive for another 10 minutes.
When our driver arrived we piled into the 8 seat jeep and prepared ourselves for the 5 hour drive to Pangong Lake.  Our driver began chanting a mantra (I'm not certain why, but I would guess it had to do with protecting us from harm on our journey) that he continued until we arrived at our first rest-stop (at least 30min from Leh!).  We had some Aloo Parathas, some Chai and were ready to carry onwards and upwards.
We began to climb.  We drove from one mountain up and up until we could reach a common ridge to the next and climb that one as well.  We felt our ears pop a number of times and our heads were beginning to ache from the rough terrain and airlessness.  The valley was disappearing below us, becoming more and more art-like.  Is it possible that this is still real life?  We stopped for a picture before heading on to Chang La, the third highest motorable pass in the world.
The clouds had still not cleared and were in fact, getting thicker as we neared the highest point in our journey.  When we finally reached Chang La, 5360m above sea level (complete with warning signs informing that it was dangerous to stay longer than 20min at this altitude), it was cold and we were unable to see much of anything because of the clouds.  Fortunately, there was free tea supplied by the Indian army stationed at Chang La.  Unfortunately, I needed to use the bathroom.  Generally I tend to use the "hand/water" method in India as, it just makes more sense. . .but on this particular occasion, the water had a not-so-thin-layer of ice on it which made for a very cold hand and behind.

 

Back on the road! and we started going down.  The mountains were still snow-covered for a while but slowly the snow was fading away.  Not only that, but the clouds were beginning to recede in some places and bright blue sky started peeking in and out between mountain peaks.  We stopped to see yaks and marmots on the way, but the most memorable thing for the remainder of the trip, was the scenery.

Pangong before the sun came out

After another 3 hours on the road, we saw the first glimpse of the sapphire blue Pangong lake. When we arrived at the lake however, the clouds had taken over and the lake was a dull navy. We went into a tent set up beside the lake for tourists to get out of the cold and wind. There were beds for tired, acclimatizing tourists and also food. After about 15 min and another chai, we ventured outside again where the sky had cleared a little and the sun had come out, lighting up the mountains and lake creating a completely changed landscape of perfection.

The ride back from Pangong Lake was long and tiring because of the rough mountain road conditions. When we arrived back at Chang La we were all tired and ready to be back at home. Fortunately though, the sun had stayed out for the remainder of our trip and we got to see the glacier that was previously hidden behind the clouds.

It was a long and tiring trip, but the natural beauty that we saw on the way there and back was definitely worth the time and headaches.  After arriving back in Leh around 5pm we took an early dinner and headed to bed for the next day. . .stay tuned for Part III


Back from Ladakh Part III                                                                        Back from Ladakh Part I  

Back from Ladakh: Part I

Goodbye Delhi heat, traffic, dust, smog, mosquitos and flat-ness. The plane circled ever upward on the way out of the city. Everything below was becoming miniature. Cows,
         cars,
                 houses,
                             subdivisions,
                                                 rivers. . .and we were in the clouds heading North to the Great Himalayan range.

Within 20 minutes we were over the foothills, green valleys plunging deeper and deeper drawing the boundaries between green giants. . .Shimla. . .Manali. . . Snow appears mixed with the clouds, at first it is hard to distinguish one from the other. . .then the mountains start to change entirely. They are no longer green giants but have passed onto the next realm, that of stone, still, lifeless. Barren and majestic. The valleys run ever deeper; veins of the terrain. Snakes, rather than ladders, that will take us back to the level from which we came.

Zik Zik Guesthouse Garden

There is a break in the peaks and Leh valley comes into sight.  Aside from the snow-capped mountains surrounding, the terrain has become desert-like, a sharp contrast to the cloudless azure sky.  By the time our taxi has dropped us off in the main town, we can already feel the effects of our sudden 3500m jump in altitude.  Each breath provides far less oxygen (although the air is markedly clearer than that of Delhi!) so a short walk down the street requires effort, climbing a flight of stairs requires a recovery period, with bags? that would come with a health advisory.  We leave our bags at one guest house to seek out something a bit more suitable.  We find Zik Zik Guesthouse on Karzoo lane with a nice garden, 24-hour hot water (which proved to be not entirely true, though still fine), reasonable price, nice view and nice family (not to mention cute kitten and calf!).

Fort Road

After confirming our stay at the guesthouse, we proceeded to take a long nap since we were feeling headach-y from the oxygen level.  We woke up close to dinner time and found a restaurant on fort road that had a great rooftop view.  After dinner though, we just went back to the room and slept since we were still not fully acclimatized and didn't feel like doing much else.

Old Palace

The next day we booked a trip to Pangong Lake and then wandered around Leh for a while.  We wandered down some back alleys selling goods for locals and had some chai from a Ladakhi lady toting a thermos full.  At the end of the alley we found a Tibetan handy-craft market where they were selling fresh momos and butter tea as well.  After that we went to see the old palace. . .our first climb since arriving in Leh.  Since we were still not fully acclimatized, it was a really challenging climb. Inside the palace was very dark which was dangerous since there were sometimes holes in the floor!  But the views of the city and mountains were worth it.
After dinner we returned to our room (which has no power, an on-going issue in Ladakh) and went to bed since our tour to Pangong Lake was leaving the next morning at 5:45!
Back from Ladakh Part II

Field trip to Chennai (aka Madras)

The other day my flatmates and I were sitting around, enjoying some after dinner mangoes, when Jang announced she was going to Chennai on Tuesday. It seems that, because she was accepted to JNU for her masters, she needs to go back to Chennai (where she had been living with her sister previous for her undergrad studies in Delhi) to get some papers to register her migration (to a different school). I jokingly said "Can I come!?". She said "yes!, please come!". I said ". . . .wait, seriously?". She said "seriously?!!!! Yes!!! Come!!!!!".
So. . .after confirming that it would still be possible to be in contact with potential employers/organizations that I might be working with, I've decided to take a couple days to visit Chennai and stay with Jang and some of her family members!! Yay!
I've wanted to visit Chennai for quite a while. I'm not entirely sure why.  Before I left Japan to go to India my "Japanese mom" 平野さん, who I was staying with for the last month I was there, showed me the pictures she had from when she visited India in the. . . 70s? 80s? I'm not sure exactly when the pictures were taken.  She looked quite young though :) hee hee.  Anyway, she went on some kind of study tour in Chennai and told me about a temple that she was taken to by their guide one day that did Naadi readings.  She explained that it involved some kind of leaf. Everyone has a leaf specific to them and each leaf, if read by someone trained in Naadi reading, can tell your past, present and future. . .apparently.   She said she didn't really believe it at first but that it was really 不思議; mysterious. She explained that the astrologer, to determine her leaf, asked her questions that she didn't think it would be possible for him to know about and eventually told her that it would be a good idea to open a shop. . .which she did end up doing!
It doesn't look like it would be very possible to travel all the way to the Vaitheeswaran Temple which seems to be the most famous and historically reputable place for Naadi readings. . .but it might be possible to go somewhere else. I'm not saying I totally believe in it. . .but i'm in India! Why not? :)

29 (+10) hour train ride later. . .

I’m in Assam.

The Chicken Neck

My first observation upon arrival was how similar the climate is to Kerala and Karnataka (both in South India). . .and also how much the Brahmaputra river in Guwahati reminded me of the lakeside of Pokhara (Nepal).


But let’s rewind a little first.

In Delhi, I had a lot of time to wander around Phar Ganj between my plane and train journeys. Phar Ganj is just outside of New Delhi station and generally considered to be the backpacker hub. I managed to get a cell phone, chai, a Hindi phrase book and some time on the internet. I also managed to get scammed by a lady who took me on a walk to buy her food after complimenting me on my earrings.
Even though I knew it was a scam, I followed her. She told me a story of how she had 6 babies and lived very far outside of the city and just needed some food. She didn’t like money. She had a small girl with her who put on a wide grin whenever I looked at her. She led me to a stall that sold dry food; flour, daal, spices and oil and instructed the man to load up plastic bags full of each. The total was 300 rupees (approximately $6). I told her I had never agreed to buy it for her but she just ignored my protest and bartered the price down to give the illusion that she was helping me. I kept looking to the small girl who, upon realizing I was looking at her, would immediately turn on her smile. For some reason I still don't understand, I gave in and paid.

Once the lady had procured her goods she shooed me off to ensure that I didn’t follow her “home”. A few minutes later I saw her again, following another foreigner down the street. . . .

I always find it hard in the heat of the moment to turn away from people in need, in this case, even when it's so obviously a lie. I should have just walked away from the start, but it’s hard when you’re being addressed so directly and in a friendly manner. I want to expect the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt, be generous (really what difference does $6 make to me?). But then I remember a lesson I learned on the PEPY Ride and a post by Daniela (PEPY’s founder)in her wonderful blog. . .Every dollar you spend is like a vote. If you simply give money to people who are running scams or beggars or poor people, you are voting for more of the same. It’s harsh, but it’s also true. Simply giving money is not sustainable and doesn’t improve the situation, it just sends the message that foreigners (or more broadly, someone else) have money and can be sought out as a means of income instead of creating a better alternative.

I’m sure that the lady that talked to me took the food somewhere to sell it at a lesser value to get money and/or the shop she bought it from was also involved . . .in any case, there’s often a network of people that are supported by this kind of system. They’re everywhere in India, and other countries too. Anywhere there are tourists or money, really. But, what to do? It already happened. I’ll try to avoid this kind of situation next time. But it’s still hard to ignore someone who says they need something that you could easily provide. You’re tempted to think: it’s not necessarily always the case that there is a whole system in place behind them. . .maybe they really do just need some food right now. . .
Any good solutions out there?

The train was 2 hours and 45 minutes late arriving to Delhi. An 11:45pm departure turned into a 2:30am departure. I was getting tired so I went to the ladies waiting room and fell asleep on the metal chairs for a while. Finally the train came. My berth was with a family of 4, Mother, Father and 2 small children and another guy, close to my age. A couple minutes after the train left the station, we put the sleeping berths into position and were ready for bed. It had been an extremely long day and I fell asleep in seconds.

Brahmaputra River

 I awoke to a chai wallah. Best morning wake-up call ever! Then the question period began. It turned out the the family was from Assam and the other younger guy was from Shillong and spoke English very well. He acted as a translator for everyone else who wanted to ask me questions.
"You’re going to Guwahati?By yourself?!Why!?Isn’t this train boring?How old are you?How many brothers and sisters do you have?Are you married?Where are your parents?What do your parents do?" Etc.
The people I was sitting with were all very nice and friendly, I wish I could speak more Hindi already.

The guy from Shillong was named Nicky. He was in Delhi applying for a visa to go to the UK. He was tired and bored of India. He offered to show me around Shillong if I had time to go. Eventually he asked what exactly I was planning to do in Assam and after, in India. I showed him the itinerary of the study circle and found out some interesting things.

Pan vendor

Akhil Gogoi, leader of the Krishak Mukti Sangram Samiti (KMSS), was scheduled to be talking to us today with one of his colleagues. When Nicky saw his name on the paper he seemed surprised then informed me that he had been arrested just last week.

Before coming to India I was contacted by one of the organizer’s contacts in Canada who told me of a 30 000 person protest that had occurred in the North East just a few days before my departure. I’ve since found out, the protest was in response to a land dispute where a slum had been erected. There was a peasant uprising that resulted in police firing into the crowd of unarmed protesters, killing 3 people (one a 9 year old boy) and arresting Akhil. . .unfortunately he won’t be able to make our seminar. His arrest prompted the shutting down of most of Guwahati, tea stalls and everything, in solidarity.
He’s a very popular guy.

Sunset on the Brahmaputra

A few hours later, Nicky released some frustration: “You can’t change anything. Anyone who tries to change anything is in jail or dead. Just enjoy the scenery and then go home. India is corrupt and crooked, no one can do anything to fix it.”

I didn’t argue. That I can’t change anything is probably true. That no one can do anything, I don’t believe. Certainly, it’s dangerous and difficult. Much easier to turn away and not let these issues concern you or go to another country (like I am currently doing too!) and pretend that the same or at least, similar issues, don’t exist there. . .you feel much less responsibility to do something about them if you don't know about them.

Instances of injustice are not separate, in my opinion. Injustice to one person, any person is an injustice to me as well. If there is a violation to any person’s basic human rights, it is a violation to my rights. If we give permission, even through idleness, for the disregard of one person's rights, we give permission for the same disregard of our own rights as a potential consequence.

It is naive to think the same violations cannot occur, under different circumstances, to anyone. If we let human rights abuses continue unchecked, I fear that they will. I feel that The Universal Declaration of Human Rights is almost taken as a joke to many corporations, businesses and developers. Only the rights of those with money or power matter. . .and only in so far as their right to acquire more money and power. Anyway, I guess I should move on to the rest of the trip. . .and stop ranting.

Finally I arrived in Guwahati. The train took an extra 10 hours to arrive than was scheduled and I missed a very interesting day regarding the big push for hydroelectric power and giant dams in North East India (they’re planning to build dams to produce a total of 70 000MW in the North East) and their environmental impacts. I haven’t been fully briefed on everything that I missed but I will try to make a post about it soon.

Coming back from Nalbari

I ate dinner with Simon, who first introduced me to the Study and Research circle, 2 other Canadian ladies, one who just finished her undergrad and one doing her PhD. and 3 other attendees of the seminar, one of the most prolific Marxist Leninist writers in the country (apparently) from South India, a professor from a university in Delhi and another student from the south. 2 others left yesterday, one was closely affiliated with Akhil Gogoi and has been getting a lot of media attention since the arrest. He had to return to Delhi but hopefully I will get to meet him sometime in the future. The other went to a different city for a memorial of a friend of his that was killed when he uncovered too much information about corruption (I don’t really know the full details, sorry.). We are currently waiting on him to arrive so we can start today’s seminar. . .

Brahmaputra sunset

Delhi

Horns honking.
Incense burning on the corner.
Tourists getting Mehndi.
Cows chillin in the middle of the street.
People. All kinds of people.
Life.
How am I still awake? I don't even feel tired and I haven't really slept well for at least 72 hours.
The lady who sat beside me on the plane pretty much adopted me as her daughter, since she doesn't have any daughters or sisters. She was impressed because I was reading a book about learning Hindi on the plane and she was a Hindi, Punjabi and Math teacher for 40 years. She lives in Mississauga and is going to call me when she gets back from her trip to Punjab. . .or I'm going to call her when I get back to Canada.
I bought a phone from the same guy who sold me a phone last time I was in Delhi.
A porter tried to charge me 500 Rupees for carrying my bag to the luggage room. I laughed and gave him 40 (which was still probably more than the going rate).
Had some chai and watched the scene of tourists, shop keepers and other pedestrians in Phar Ganj for a while.
Train in 3 hours.
Back in India :)

Creative Destruction

The end and the beginning.
Just finished the Otesha Phenomenal Food Tour yesterday and drove home with 3 of the lovely tour members to Niagara, via Toronto.
We left Ottawa and River Glen farm after a final breakfast together as a team and an appreciation circle where one person entered the circle and everyone had a minute to shout out amazing things about the person in the centre.

Superhero Day

Book Love: putting love messages in random books

Bike Love: Putting love messages on random bikes

The wonders of sidewalk chalk

Driving away from the faces that had become so familiar over the past 2 months was bittersweet. These wonderful people are my family. I love them and yet I know that for us to be together much longer in a group like this would impede our ability to branch out into the world and spread our knowledge, our love and our energy to everyone we know. It's much more effective to do that individually or in smaller groups than as a large and somehow intimidating group of amazing, confident, inspiring people. It can be difficult for the uninitiated to feel comfortable right away being stinky, or growing armpit hair (and talking about it every debrief), drying underwear anywhere and everywhere, skinny dipping, having constant lentil farts and performing in front of large audiences. That's understandable. It doesn't happen right away. . .but hopefully we can all strive to create a more judgement free, comfortable and loving atmosphere for everyone we meet, so we can nurture their talents, their inner strength and help them to realize how amazing they are too. We can create our own groups in our respective communities and spread the Otesha jam even further :)

And so it ends.

Finish: Ottawa

Yesterday I picked up my passport from the Indian Visa services. Visa, plane and train ticket. . .that's happening too. I can't believe that in a mere 2 days I will be on a plane to India, to a new experience and a new chapter of my life. It gets pretty overwhelming if I think about it too much.  However, I trust that it will be the experience that I need and whatever happens and comes of the trip, will be extremely worthwhile. Definitely a new test of my 氣 tho.
It's not to say that I'm not conflicted. I want to learn and try to do what I can to help the situation. That being said, I don't currently know the situation I will be working in or trying to help. I think a lot of "international development" (the term itself makes me uneasy. . .what exactly is it we're trying to develop anyway? what does development even mean? etc.) initiatives are seriously flawed in that, they are not well thought out, context based or sustainable much of the time. I know that going to India and volunteering myself is not equal to help, it could in fact, cause more harm than good. So my first priority is to learn as much as possible about the situation, the history, the politics, the language, the religion, the people, everything!! until I can better identify where my presence would be most useful.
Another conflict is the fact that I'm leaving Canada again. There is so much here that I could be doing too! There are so many issues and so many initiatives that are so awesome (as I just found out on the Phenomenal Food Tour!) that would be great to get more involved in. There are some really great people that I met and reconnected with during the tour that are doing really exciting and amazing things. Why leave your own situation when you can make change right here, right now? Not only that, but I DO know the context and I DO speak the language (well, at least one of them :S Still need to work on French) and I actually COULD be effective much sooner!!

I consider this. If I changed my mind and just didn't go to India. . .I would save a lot of money. . .I wouldn't need to be in such a rush or be sad to be leaving my new and old friends, family, life, bicycle, copious amounts of Canadian music shows that I love, winter, maple syrup. I could find work with an environmental organization or fight for the rights of those whose voices are often silenced in Canada. . .I could build a better community in Niagara, grow a garden in my backyard, move to Kensington with my friend who has a spare bedroom in a few months. . .I don't need to go to India at all to do things that I want to do.

But my guiding voice says otherwise.
I'm being pulled, forcefully, magnetically, unavoidably. To cancel my trip seems like the harder choice at this point, even though cancelling would seem to make my life much easier. So I throw myself into the world with few strong connections, few plans, and an extreme amount of energy and curiosity. Come what may.

In an interstellar blast, I'm back to save the universe! :)