Michael Goes North

A Michael-road-trip is not about the destination. When I’m traveling, I rarely want to get to my destination as fast as possible. Back when I lived in Illinois, the 12-hour drive home once stretched over four days. But of course, I stopped in St. Louis, Nashville, Atlanta, and Athens along the way. So when I was looking at a trip up to the northernmost city in Kazakhstan, I didn’t see a straight line from Taraz to Petropovlask. (And there isn’t one even if I had wanted, the trains doesn’t run from here to there.)

The original plan was to stop off in Shychinks to see Sagar, but when Jamie learned she had to teach that week, that plan changed. Sagar decided he’d rather spend his time macking on a local girl in Petro than wait around for me. But that worked out for the best. Because between Taraz and Sagar’s site, lies the fabulous new city of Astana!

Really, how many cities can you really describe in that way? The new city of …. Most cities in America are at least decades old. Lots of them in Europe are hundreds of years old. Some cities (like Taraz) can claim to be thousands of years old. But Astana…it’s about fifteen years old. For a lot of different reasons, the Kazakhstan President decided to move the capital from Almaty to Asatna about fifteen years ago. It’s not unprecedented in the history of the world. Washington, of course, was not the first capital of America. Atlanta was not the first capital of Georgia. Sometimes its just good to get a fresh start.

How they decided on Astana (which means “capital” in Kazakh), I’ve never heard. It was a small town in the middle of the steppe about halfway between Karaganda and Kokshetau. It is a lot closer to Russia, so it gives the country more control of the northern Russian oblasts. And its more centrally located (Almaty is in the southeastern corner). So it made since geographically in some ways.

Anyway, so my first stop on my trip was the NEW city of Astana. There’s a ton of cool, new stuff there. In some ways it’s like Dubai, but not as extreme. There’s a pyramid structure, the Palace of Independence, Baiterik, the President’s residence. The architectural plan seems to be, let’s build cool, crazy stuff. For example, the treasury department’s building is wavy like a piece of money.

Some people like the new capital and some people don’t. But everyone agrees on one thing: It’s cold! Almaty had the advantage of being in the South. But Astana (while still quite a few hours from the northern border) is north and in the middle of the steppe. Cold and windy. I had heard horror stories of the Astana wind. I wasn’t even sure that I had clothes to prepare me for the weather. Layers ended up working though (long underwear, shirt, long-sleeved shirt, fleece, heavy jacket.)

My train ride up to the city was fun. I find that when you travel during January, you usually get a lot of students on the train who are on break. We played Kazakh backgammon (much simpler) and checkers (more complicated, I think, but maybe I just don’t know how to play checkers). And we finally reached Astana at about 8:00 in the morning. My friend Berik was waiting for me at the station. And we began are day of tourism.

I had heard that you only need one day to see Astana, and this was almost true. We spent about an hour at Berik’s apartment warming up and eating delicious borsch. Then off to the pyramid. This place was built to be a meeting place for all of the world’s major religions. They have a meeting every two years or so. I don’t know how they define major religions (maybe percentages), but I don’t think Brian-ism would ever get an invite. The architecture of the place was actually really impressive (especially when Berik told me about seeing it on the Discovery Channel). And you can rent it out for parties or weddings (but the guide didn’t know how much that was.)

Next, we went across the street to the Palace of Independence. The inside may have been prettier than the outside, but since it was lunch they wouldn’t let us go inside. Just kidding, it was 12:50 and lunch was at 1:00. But the guard said we couldn’t walk the 50 yards across the lobby to the main meeting chamber to look inside. This was not cool, but now I have a reason to come back to Astana.

Then we took a bus across the river to the other side (because apparently there is no pedestrian walkway yet connecting that section of the city). Taking a bus in Astana (and in all the northern cities) was strange because all of the windows were frosted over. Don’t take a bus tour of those cities in winter. You will see nothing.

On the other side, we did some picture taking in front of the President’s Residence (more his office, I heard) and then we went to Baiterik. Just like in the Pyramid, Berik had already been like four times with other people, so he didn’t pay to take the tour. Baiterik is built exactly 97 meters tall because 1997 was the founding of the city (or maybe of Baiterik, I forget.) On top if a golden hand you can put your hand in. I heard it was Nazerbayev’s hand from a number of sources. From the outside it seems really small compared to the impressive new highrises being built around it, but it seems tall from the inside. You can look off in the distance and see the edge of the steppe.

After that, we decided to go to the aquarium. Once again, Berik waited outside while I explored. I’m not a big aquarium fan though. I like the ocean, but not seeing tanks filled with fish. However, this aquarium was sweet for three reasons. One, for an aquarium it’s size, it is farthest away from any major body of water. Kazakhstan is landlocked. It does have the Caspian, it had the Aral sea, and there is big lake Balhash. But most Kazakh people will never see an ocean. But it’s brought to them here. It was great to see other people seeing aquatic life. Second, they had a mermaid show. They have one of those cool tunnel things where the fish swim all around you, and twice a day mermaids show up! Why don’t other aquariums have attractive women swimming around the tanks? Great idea. Third, I ran into another Peace Corps volunteer there (Aaron Bean). He happened to be in Astana with his org. (He works for a handicapped advocacy org and their local government paid to send ten disabled people to Astana for two days. Basically the trip of a lifetime for most of them in a country that has about no handicapped accessible transportation.) I had no idea he was in the city, and we just happened to be at the aquarium at the same time. Crazy.

Next up, what else, but MEGA. No trip to a Kazakhstani city is complete without going to the local MEGA. Unless of course, there is no MEGA. But then it’s debatable whether it should really qualify as being a city. We chilled out there for too long. Because our next stop was the President’s Museum of Astana, and it was already closed for the day. (5:15! It closed at 5:00.) There they have pieces from The Golden Man (although I love to tell locals about how it was most likely, but not proven to be The Golden Woman). The Golden (Wo)Man is one of the coolest archeological finds in Kazakhstan. It is golden armor from thousands of years ago, when Kazakhs may have looked more white than Mongolian. Supposedly, the level of quality and detail in the gold would have trouble being rivaled with modern technology.

After that, the day was coming to a close and we just spent some time walking along the river bank. The city was pretty empty overall, but it was -15 degrees outside (F). We stopped back at Berik’s place then went to the bus station. Ken assured me there was be a bus to his village about two hours north. There wasn’t. I took a cab there. But that story will be saved for the next blog.

Last blog, I posted about how I was going up North to jump in a river
in Siberia. I did that. And my trip was actually a really good
adventure, hitting quite a few northern spots along the way.

Unfortunately, just after I had left Taraz, one of my close friends
was in a really bad car accident on the way back to her town. She was
medivac-ed to Washington, DC and is still at the hospital in a coma.
Her family is keeping us all updated on a blog at
http://lailahrafik.blogspot.com/. All of us here are thinking of her,
and praying for her and her family.

Her accident has really opened my eyes to the dangers of traveling
here in Kazakhstan. We've always been scared, and all of us down here
would joke about it. But behind the humor, we knew that at times the
risks these drivers take are just stupid and dangerous. I have already
promised one of my old friends that I wouldn't take the taxis at night
until the spring time. And I plan on taking the train anywhere over
long distances here in the South. Unfortunately, accidents have
happened far too often to people we are close to in our oblast.

Please keep Jamie and her family in your prayers as she recovers.

To the North!

I am currently sitting in Petropovlask. That's near Russia, just about 30 miles from there actually. Tomorrow, myself and some other volunteers will dunk ourselves in a river here. The current temperature is about -30 degrees Celcius. We're not crazy; we're just celebrating the Russian Orthodox holiday of Krishenya (Baptism).

I'll post more about this trip when I get back. But a trip from Taraz to Petro turned into Taraz - Astana - Akkul - Kokshetau - Petro - Shuchinks - Taraz.

And I just found a banya hat!

I need to go to Brussels

My girlfriend just got back from a trip to Brussels that was paid for by the European Commission. She was invited to participate on an ecology/health conference there as Kazakhstan's representative. Some of the first things she noted when she got back:

• The bus system there has maps that explain where all the buses go in the city. (After 1.5 years here, I've kind of forgotten our confusion when Peace Corps could not get us a bus map for Almaty.) They don't have that here.
• Beer is delicious! And there's tons of different types. (I was so happy to hear this. It reminded me of the Athens BeerFest days. I have become an exclusive drinker of Shymkentskoe to the point where I'm not really sure it's good anymore. But it's my brew here.)
• People on the street smile and say hi. (A few weeks ago she caught me saying hi to some neighbor children on the stairwell and said that was probably weird for them.)
• They have service in the restaurants! The waiters want to help you. (Non-existent in most of Kazakhstan, where apathy is usually better than a noted disdain for the customer.)
• The guys were polite enough to use the phrase, "ladies," when they said, "Good night, ladies." (Here the common expression is Zhenshiya (woman) or devushka (girl). I always wondered if people here thought it was rude. Now, I think, maybe?)
  

Based on this experience, she assured me that I had to go to Brussels. I, in turn, assured her that such conveiniences are not just found in Brussels.

She goes to Italy in March for the next step in the conference. I really don't know how she'll eat here after that.

New Year's is a family holiday

As the new year approached this year, I wasn’t quite sure how I would spend it. Last year, the choice was easy because I didn’t really have any where to go. I would spend it at home in my village with my host-family. This year though, I wasn’t even living in my original village. Should I go home for the holidays? Or spend it with friends in the city? Or visit Jamie in Merke? Acela in Kulan? Aidos in Dihan?

In the end, I chose my old host family. Because New Year’s is a family holiday here in Kazakhstan. They don’t have a Thanksgiving. And Christmas is much more religious. So New Year’s is the time when families get together to celebrate. So I went home. I hadn’t been there in a while. Just about two months. India, conferences, and other things kept getting in the way. But like usual, I was welcomed back with open arms.

The only people at home were my host mom, one host bro, and my host niece. Despite it being a family holiday, the other members of the family couldn’t make it. One brother was in Almaty and the sisters were with their own families (maybe? Not really sure on that one.) But that was enough. We watched some movies on the DVD player, fired up the banya, and ate some beshbarmark. Just like being at home.

Around eight or so, we wandered down to the square for the holiday concert. It was pretty much like every concert. Then around ten or so we wandered back to the house, where I actually fell asleep for about an hour and woke up before midnight. A few weeks ago, the wind broke our antenna, so the TV doesn’t work at all. This is really unfortunate because I was really excited to understand Nazerbaev’s New Year’s toast this year.

Midnight came and we set off fireworks outside and congratulated the neighbors. Then we went back in for cake and champagne and more celebrating. I tried calling some other volunteers, but the cell network was so jammed, it took an hour to reach anyone. Then I went to bed. Overall, a really quiet holiday for New Year’s standards. Apparently, some guests came over at 3:00 or so, but I was so asleep my host bro couldn’t even wake me up.

The next day I visited the village of Dihan to gosti another host family I lived with for a month. I hadn’t been there for three months, but I often see that host brother at the grocery store he works at in Taraz. Delicious salads, some champagne, and trying to listen to the Russian on TV behind me while the table conversation was in Kazakh filled about four hours. Then it was back to the center then back to Taraz. End New Year’s.

Overall, rather slow and quiet. No crazy stories to tell. Pretty much a repeat of last year but more low key. It felt right though. It’s strange to think how I have a holiday tradition here already (going home and going to the square with my hbro). In life, I always face a struggle of seeking out the new and exciting or trying to accept some routine and tradition. Lately, I have seeking out more routine. It’s strange for me, but not altogether bad. But strange. Would I have a new story to tell if I had stayed in the city, or gone to Kulan or Merke? Probably, but I needed to go back more than I needed a new story. It’s a strange feeling for me.

Getting in that New Year's Spirit

New Year’s is a great time to be here in Kazakhstan. Three major events leading up to the holiday really put me in the New Year’s mood.

1) Holiday party with my coworkers

My counterpart/boss told me a few weeks ago that they wanted to have a New Year’s party and invite all the PCVs in the area. Apparently, they do it every year. Why didn’t I go last year? I don’t know. But it would be held on December 27th, and it would be 3500 tenge. 3500 tenge! That’s about $22. Which isn’t all that much, but for a night in a café, it’s a lot. Usually at a café I try to spend less than 1000, and if the bill is over 2000 then it’s been an expensive night. What on Earth could cost that much?

But apparently, that’s what cafes do around here. New Year’s comes and they jack up the prices on the special New Year’s menu. But it’s only once a year, so why not go ahead and pay. So I signed up and corralled Mark, Jamie, Jessica, and AC into going to it as well. With them and my coworkers and their friends/spouses we had about fifteen people total.

The night started off normal. Huge table with a spread of salads, sweets, glasses, plates. It’s what I’ve come to expect at holiday parties here, and maybe I’ll be disappointed when I don’t get that back in the States. Another difference is we brought our own salads and alcohol in the morning and they served it to us in the evening as if it were theirs. There was music for dancing, toasts given, and we snacked on the salads.

Then the real fun began when Ded Moroz and Snegorichka (Grandfather frost and snow daughter) came out. They led us in a lot of games. There was a three-legged race, musical vodka bottles, eating candy with boxing gloves, etc. Finally they had everyone up and dancing in a circle, laughing and singing. It was really really fun.

By then, everyone was loosened up and in the holiday mood. We stayed until about 1:00 and left. Some of my coworkers stayed another hour or two. It was an expensive night, but in the end, it was worth it.

2) Holiday party at the nursing home

One thing I am trying to do is get our volunteers more active. We have people who say they are our volunteers, but we don’t always have a lot of things for them to do. One idea was to have a holiday concert at a nursing home. We used to do that with St. James CYM every year. It was always a good time. I suggested this to our volunteers, and they ran with it. I was expecting to have to make phone calls and do some coordinating, but one of our volunteers planned the whole thing.

I volunteered my English clubs to make cards for all the residents. I thought maybe there’d be 100. They claimed there were 210. I expected each person in my clubs to make about three cards. They each made one. So we were a little short. But we came through and made a lot on Christmas.

For the show itself, we had singers, a play, and new year’s wishes lined up. Only about thirty residents were in attendance, but they assured us they had a lot more that were in bed. Maybe they had 210. Maybe.

Some of the residents seemed bored, but a few were really really happy that we came. And that made it all worth it to me. I hope that the dozen or so volunteers who helped out felt the same way.

3) Holiday party at the pre-school

The day after we performed at the nursing home, the piano player from the concert called my work to invite me to a pre-school for their new year’s celebration. I’d heard about yolkas (Christmas tree or rather New Year’s tree in Russian) parties where the kids dance around with ded moroz and get presents, but I’d never seen one. I was excited to get the chance, but it did feel a little weird going. I had talked to the piano player the day before, but I didn’t remember her name or really what she looked like. Just that she was a middle-aged cheerful woman that always had a smile on her face.

I found the preschool (dyedski sad in Russian, literally children’s garden) with little trouble despite forgetting its name or address. Then I wandered around until I found the music hall. I was supposed to get there at 11:00, but I showed up a little early at 10:40. I found that the party had already started. Strange, but then I realized that they probably have a party for each class of children. I don’t know why they invited me to the 11:00 one, but sure enough, at 10:50 that show ended and the musical director found me. She cheerfully greeted me and introduced me to the director and the pre-school’s English teacher. I got a great seat near the front and waited for the next show to start.

First, all the children danced in singing a new year’s song. Then Ded Moroz came out but then left forgetting his staff! Then some other people dressed like a bear and a wolf came and stole his staff. The rest of the hour was full of the children singing, reciting poems, and Ded Moroz getting back his staff. At one point one little girl punched another playing musical chairs. And another girl started crying for I don’t know why. But overall the show was really entertaining to watch, and probably even more so if I had actually known anyone in the show. But I was glad I was able to take part in such a fundamental cultural event.

Indian Citations

I kept meaning to summarize India. Fortunately my friend Ken did it for me. You can read it on his blog here. I’ve copied it with some edits and commentary. Note this is from Ken’s POV.

Ken: I make it to Peace Corps HQ and then I met up with Hotard and Jacob for our trip to India. I took off my winter coat and placed it with nice signage so I would have it when I came back to the land of the cold. Well, Jacob still had to go work at KIMEP so me and Hotard decided to get Pizza Hut and wait it out. So we got some delicious pizza (delicious in the relative sense that pizza here is terrible and Pizza Hut can be considered gourmet). We finish eating our feast and go to KIMEP to find Jacob and he’s still a little busy. So he then told us that he wasn’t ready yet to go to the airport. Me and Hotard decided to go find a beer. We are walking in Almaty and it’s only filled with expensive restaurants and what we want is a hole-in-the-wall type of place. (I TOLD KEN WE SHOULD SETTLE ON AN EXPENSIVE PLACE BECAUSE WE’D NEVER FIND A CHEAP BEER IN THAT NEIGHBORHOOD.) So as we’re walking, these old guys yell at us and we stop and decide to join them. It ends up being a club. Not a club as in the forms of night, strip, or dancing; but, in fact, a clubhouse. These old dudes meet every Saturday for drinks. They work in a variety of ministries in the government and also as professors at universities. Most spoke English. (REALLY? LIKE TWO GUYS SPOKE ENGLISH. THE OTHERS SPOKE RUSSIAN. AND ONE KEPT ASKING IN KAZAKH WHY WE WEREN’T ALL SPEAKING RUSSIAN.) We chatted, they gave us beer. Success. Then we got Jacob and went to the airport. We sat around. Some other volunteers that were COSing were there. The plane was ready and we took off. They played a Sandra Bullock movie on the plane. The Proposal. We ate some food. The flight was only 3.5 hours and the time zone change was only 30 minutes. Not bad. We get to India and apparently I don’t look like the photographs on any of my IDs so they don’t want to let me in but they do eventually.

The cab takes about 45 minutes to get to South Extension Part-2 of Delhi. The land of the Wetherbys. There is a new girl volunteer who I have not met and her parents live in Delhi. They are white, not Indian. They said we can stay there. We said ‘okay’. We arrive and their servant makes us chilli which is one of my favorites so the trip starts out fine. It’s late though and we eventually get to bed. We wake up and explore Delhi. Go to Red Fort, the mosque, Qutub Minar. We take photographs, goof around, etc. At night we went to McDonald’s where there is no beef or pork. Bummer. I had the Chicken Maharaja Mac. (BEST THING ON THE MENU. I TRIED THE WHOLE THING OVER TWO WEEKS.) We wake up and go off to Agra. It’s a dirty city with a bunch of asses that try to take your money and overcharge you. We find our guest house and then go and explore. We walk to Agra Fort and then go in and check it out. There are monkeys there. That’s cool. From the windows I see this big building in the distance; apparently it’s the Taj Mahal. Since it’s in the same town we decide to go there too. We get there eventually and it’s expensive so we have to think hard about going in. (BECAUSE KEN TOLD US NOT TO BUY THE VALUE PASS FOR THE FORT AND THE TAJ. THANKS KEN!)We decide we probably should, since it is the Taj Mahal. We go in. Lots of people. We take it in. There is an old American couple there ruining America’s rep. “Where do I take my shoes off? WHAT, I’m desecrating the Taj Mahal?!” “You take sleeper trains?! I heard its infested with rats.” That sums them up. The sun sets. We take photos and chill out. Then they tell us we must leave, the sun is down. So we walk around get dinner and then bed. I wake up at like 3 am and vomit for 5 minutes and then go back to bed. No one heard it, so that means it didn’t happen, right? (FIRST I’D HEARD ABOUT IT.) I feel better by the next night so no big deal. That full day we spend on the train. 26 hours to Mumbai. We meet people. They tell us the fun things to do: “ride the train in rush hour”… “go to the water park” …lots of great advice. (RIDING THE TRAIN AT RUSH HOUR WAS INTERESTING. AND CAN ANYONE TELL ME DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO PAY FOR THE TRAIN IN MUMBAI?) Then they tell us that the number one threat to global peace is China and that GW Bush created swine flu and controls the Tamiflu company to make lots of money.

Mumbai! It’s big. More people live there than in Kazakhstan. For some strange reason it’s raining when we arrive. But it’s after monsoon season. What’s the deal? Oh, cyclone! We should’ve checked the weather or just assumed that hurricane like storms go to cities WE plan on going to. Well, everything gets closed, schools get cancelled, etc. We walk around, split up, (KEN ABANDONS US AND WE SPEND HOURS LOOKING FOR HIM. WE TELL A GOVERNMENT TOURIST AGENT WE LOST OUR FRIEND WITH THE MAP AND WE NEED A NEW MAP. SHE SAID SHE’D WANT TO FIND HER FRIEND. WE JUST WANTED A MAP.) the wind isn’t too bad and I got to check some things out in the city and then the storm just missed us and everything was still closed so we didn’t know what to do. We walked some more and made it to a Jazz café that played grunge/thrash metal with a lead singer that looked like Indian Jesus. The next day we woke up and went around and decided to go on a slum tour. We went to Dharavi, the largest slum in India. In an area of 1.75 sq km, a total of 1 million people live and work. We got to check it out and saw how it was set up, how houses were, how sanitation was done, water supply, electricity, etc. The government actually helps out. It seems to be a lot worse to be out on the streets than in the slum. I don’t really think there was much crime in the slum, the people all had jobs that were set up for them to do various things. A recycling plant was in the slum. We couldn’t take pictures though so I got none for you. We visited a school there too. After this we went to the big ghat where the washing is done and walked to the beach. Watched the sunset. Got some bhel puri and snowballs. There was a manually powered ferris wheel on the beach that we decided to go on. It was by no means safe but it was by all means fun. (I DISAGREE. COMPLETELY SAFE. WE WATCHED IT FOR AT LEAST FIVE MINUTES AND SAW NO ONE INJURED.)We eventually make our way back more and go to the movies to see a Bollywood flick called London Dreams that portrayed England as the land of drug users, alcoholics, and sluts. Not bad. Next day, we went to Elephanta Island. The boat ride was an hour each way and both ways we met interesting people. To there we met 2 women from Spain. From there we met this dude from America that was in the Peace Corps in the Marshall Islands in 68-69 to escape from Vietnam and ran a coconut farm. The island had old Hindu rock caves with carvings in them. They were pretty tite. Lots of monkeys roamed the island. We came back and got our bus ticket for the next day and went to a modern mall, got some food in downtown Mumbai and walked around another district. That was our night for Mumbai clubbing. We got to club Redlight too early and waited outside. If there were Indian strippers then this would be a different story. So we chill then go in the club. It’s very expensive. It gets packed with people too. We dance big though and it’s all good. Indians don’t dance anywhere near as big as me and Jacob so that was a letdown and Hotard only does Bollywood dancing so that balanced it out at least. In case none of you know, Jacob is a professional dancer. He looks good on the dance floor. (JACOB WAS BOUGHT DRINKS BY THE BACHELORETTE PARTY.) We left late and went to bed, woke up and made our way to the bus station. (SAGAR SOLD US OUR TICKETS. I LOST THEM. BUT KEN HANDLED THE GUY ON THE BUS. IN TARAZ, WE DON’T GET BUS TICKETS.) Our ride finally left around noon and it took like 3 hours to get out of the city because it went forever. (THE BUS DROVE AROUND MUMBAI UNTIL IT WAS FULL. HAVING PEOPLE MEET AT ONE CENTRAL LOCATION DOES’T MAKE SENSE MAYBE.) The bus arrived the next morning in Udaipur at like 5am. The bus ride involved us eating peanut butter and oreos, playing lots of rummy 10,000, and sitting inside a small compartment on the second level that flung our bodies around every turn and threatened to throw us out the window to our deaths. But it was efficient. We got to Udaipur, cheaply.

Udaipur! Apparently it’s one of the most romantic cities in India. Perfect for three guys to go to together. We get there at 5am, like I mentioned in the previous paragraph. We decide to walk to the center of town and it’s quiet and not crazy. Eventually we decide to meet this guy Jai who Hotard met on the internet (COUCHSURFING) at his abandoned hotel where his family has lived since they were the official astrologers for the Raja here for hundreds of years. The hotel is abandoned because he married down in caste and his family wouldn’t let him continue to run it. But we were able to stay there. Eventually the sun rises and I get some banana bread at the local German bakery and we go off to the city palace to explore it and check out things there. We spend some time there and go to a Hindu temple where this guy tells us a make believe story about the temple and then told us that James Bond worshipped there when he filmed Octopussy which is completely untrue. (THIS IS ALSO UNTRUE.) This is just one of many people in India that we caught lying to us. Well, we go to the real temple down the street and see a ceremony and then chill after lunch time and go to the mountain and climb it. At the top is the monsoon palace which overlooks the town and the lake, etc. We get to the top and we’re all sweaty and wondering why everyone else isn’t. It’s because we were the only people to climb the mountain because we are too cheap to pay for a ride up (which also needed permission to enter the park, thus more money). We explore it and then the sunset comes and we watch it from the top of the mountain at the palace. We meet a group of Canadians that are doing a 2 week volunteer stint nearby and they offer to give us a ride back to the town so we don’t have to walk in the dark and that’s cool. So we go with them and get back to the abandoned hotel and get ready for dinner. We go to the first place that offers to play Octopussy for us. In case you don’t know, Udaipur is where the infamous Lake Palace is located and the site of Octopussy’s base. They still pride themselves on this fact, 30 years later (AND WHY SHOULDN’T THEY?), and we get tandoori chicken and watch the movie. I go out to take some photos at night of the Lake Palace and then we go to bed. The Lake Palace is now a hotel and we couldn’t go unless we felt like spending hundreds of dollars for the night or like only 100 for a meal. (WHICH THE KING HIMSELF SOMETIMES SERVES.) It’s a palace floating on a lake. We wake up and the next morning we walk around, visit a Hindu tank (NOT A COOL ARMY TANK, LIKE A WATER RESOVOIR, KEN’S IDEA-NOT INTERESTING), the park, watch kids play cricket and then get a picnic basket. We find a guy to drive us to the country to Tiger Lake where we heard we can go swimming. We are the only people there when we do make it there and apparently the lake is filled with crocodiles. This does not stop me or Hotard, but it does stop Jacob from swimming. We meet a local dude that jumps into the water with us a few times and chills and then we meet some foreigners right before we leave. Our picnic is delicious (EXCEPT FOR MY MANGO PICKLE RELISH, IT DOES NOT GO WITH PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY) and we spend the afternoon here in the peaceful countryside. We drive back through the small villages of India to Udaipur and pack our stuff up when we go to meet Vikram, another dude that Hotard met on the internet that planned on hanging out with us. This dude is basically the complete opposite of the previous, that being not sketchy and instead very welcoming. He supplies us with amazing chicken dinners (FIRST REALLY SPICY FOOD IN INDIA!) and takes us to his house in the suburbs that was really nice and we hung out then we went to the train station and took the overnight to Jaipur.

Jaipur! It’s like 6am time to wake up. We get off and walk around and there’s a hostel that is supposed to be okay so we walk there but everyone that works there is a total jerk so we leave and go to the place next door which was a thousand times better because we met a Russian couple that ended up feeding us one night and giving us Scotch. But I’m jumping ahead. So we get our room and then go to the old city, which claims to be pink but is more of a burnt sienna in real life. We walk around, shop, see the observatory that claims to have the largest sundial (IT WAS HUGE). We go to Monkey Temple and see monkeys battle and hang out and eat food and then saw another movie at Asia’s nicest movie theater according to everyone in India. A guy there tried to recruit us to smuggle gems to America and I tried explaining that I don’t live in America but he didn’t believe me. The movie had a great scene in which the guy goes undercover to save his secret girlfriend by disguising himself in a burka and everyone thinks he’s a girl. (PREM SOMETHING OR OTHER WAS THE NAME OF THE MOVIE.) The next morning we went to Amber and went to the fort, Jacob and Hotard rode the elephant to it. We explored it without a guide and then some dude that I called out on being a liar said I couldn’t go into the section I wanted to go into so I lost him in the maze of tunnels in the fortress and then I explored it anyway. (I THINK THAT GUY LIVED IN THAT SECTION.) In retrospect I think he wasn’t lying but it’s not like I saw anything like the temple of doom type stuff with Thuggee priests ripping out hearts in the back rooms. We got lunch for 3 cents (15 CENTS) and then Jacob left to go shopping and to McDonald’s and me and Hotard decided to see the other fortress, Jaigarh, that we didn’t know how to enter. So we thought the only obvious way to get to it was by climbing the mountain it was on. We climbed the mountain and got to the big outer walls and skirted them to a gate that showed where the real gate and road was that everyone else took. But the mountain was more of an adventure. Then we took a wrong turn, climbed the outer walls and had to skirt the inner walls and cliffs because we were too stubborn to go back down and around. We eventually made it inside to where the world’s largest cannon on wheels is located. It was fired once for a practice shot and hit something 22 miles away. We met a Polish/British dude that was lost(he was going to Thailand by plane from England and ended up in Nepal and climbed mountains and is now in India, almost in Thailand –at least it’s Asia). We chilled and made our way down and onto the bus with the locals. We met local university students that wanted to teach us curse words in Rajasthani and Hindi. After the ride we split up from them and met the Russians. (THEY FED US RAW CHICKEN THAT WAS DELICIOUS. JACOB AND I ATE CAUTIOUSLY. KEN CONSUMED ALL OF IT.) The next day we left back to Delhi.

Delhi, the sequel! We went to some markets then met another person Hotard knows because he’s secretly Indian and Rusty met up with us too. We went to a “coffee house” which was just a very fancy restaurant we would never be able to afford if it wasn’t for the kindness of strangers. It’s been 3 months since I last saw Rusty in Kazakhstan and now he was hairy and poor and leaving back to America the next day. So he got to eat and he survived to America. He made it overland from Kaz to India, but the long way through all of Asia, it was cool we got to meet up again. We had amazing food and beer and wine and beetle leaves and other things. The good doctor that treated us then invited us to his nephew’s bachelor party-esque family get together that night. Of course we decided to go. So we (ME AND KEN, JACOB WANTED TO STAY HOME) go and get more food and got henna (JACOB DIDN’T GET HENNA) and we danced with the family and had no idea what was happening but it was all good. We got back late and slept and then woke up and visited the Gandhi memorial and it was calm and peaceful, a good way to end the trip. We walked to the Tibetan market and then made our way back by conquering the Delhi city bus system and eating curry chicken and leaving the Wetherbys for the airport. (THERE WAS ANOTHER MCDONALD’S IN HERE. AnD SUBWAY AT THE AIRPORT.) Fsyo. We got back to Kaz at like 330 and got a ride from Jacob’s friend to the office. We planned on going right to sleep but I noticed my coat wasn’t there. I mentioned my jacket earlier. Well, it’s cold in Kaz so I needed it. After sleuthing all morning I learned that one of the RMs donated it to charity. It had my keys in it which was not good. Well I was cold but Kevin quit PC that day and gave me his coat and he went to America and I travelled back to the cold northern steppe. (the jacket story was longer and more popular but I just got annoyed telling it so much, I heard such rumors as me wearing women’s clothes to various other things that made it better too) (HE WAS GOING TO TAKE A WOMAN’S COAT. THAT IS A FACT.)

Me: So that was India. For the most part. We had a lot more McDonald’s than that indicates. And a lot more people trying to sell us things. It doesn’t cover autorickshaws either. But it’s pretty comprehensive. Namaste.