Friday, January 30, 2009
enjoy!
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People can get used to anything.
Two days ago I was in complete culture shock. Now I’m almost used to it all.
From London:
We arrived at the Chennai airport at about 1 am local time to what the pilot described as a “hazy night.” The first thing I noticed when stepping off the airplane was the heat and humidity. We walked to the customs and of course found the only line out of 10 that was being run by an apparent trainee. After languishing in that line for an entirely too long we jumped lines and were now officially in India. We continued walking down a flight of stairs to the security checkpoint where a woman was sitting behind a scanner looking at anything and everything but the scanner. To the side of the scanner was what looked like a door frame covered in a crappy fake wood veneer with a light that would apparently randomly flash on and off saying whether or not you could continue. Regardless of what the light would show or any noise this detector would make the security guard would wave people through. I would call it lax but it doesn’t do it justice to what the lack of security was like.
Luggage claim was right next to that and in typical fashion two of our three bags were immediately found while the third took an additional 20 minutes. From there we headed straight to the door where my first shock came.
People.
Hundreds of people. And beyond that, more people. Walking, sleeping, driving. Everywhere was activity. And horns. Beeping, honking, squeaking. From all directions at once.
But the one thing I noticed the most was the smell. It smelled like the city was on fire. Smokey. Like wood and other items being burnt en masse. Hazy doesn’t describe it though. Visibility was perhaps a mile at most and combined with the smells, heat, humidity, and sounds it made for a strange combination of sensory overload.
Not knowing where or what we were going to do because of our complete and purposeful lack of planning we pushed through the crowd in search of an ATM. One thing we had learned in London was that cash is the commodity of choice and not many places take credit card.
As soon as we were through the crowd though we were descended upon by taxi drivers, rickshaw drivers, and people who seemed to work for them by getting the driver’s their fares. “No I don’t need a taxi, I’m just looking for an ATM,” was responded with “I will take you to one, then get you taxi.”
They circled us in a desperate predatory way as we walked down the sidewalk in front of the airport and no sooner would one tire of asking when another would walk up. The four of us got past them and walked into the small ATM booth and got 5000 RP (about $100). Mike stated he had read that the authorized taxi drivers were dispatched by a booth in front of the airport and suggested we head back there to get a cab and also not to get ripped off.
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Random thoughts:
All disputes must be settled by jousting.
My toe that touches my big toe is swollen and rubbing my big toe. Feels odd.
According to this Kingfisher label this beer is for export only or only for sale in Pondicherry. Thank god we are in Pondicherry.
I don’t like Kingfisher.
I wonder why my pants didn’t dry very well. Could be the saltwater.
Group decision making is annoying.
The cows here seem emaciated but can basically eat anything so it doesn’t make sense.
Dogs here are all the same size. Nico size.
I really don’t get why cows are sacred. They’re everywhere and not being used for milk or transport. Maybe back before cars, but now…..?
Riding in the front of a bus is a terrifying experience.
Hot British girls are seriously lacking.
I will probably not be in many photos since I’m taking them all.
I felt infinitely bad for some kid on a pedal rickshaw that wanted to give us a ride.
Getting food here takes forever.
I am surprised more people don’t die on the streets.
I am also surprised when an Indian is wearing western style clothing.
“American” music includes a lot of country.
This town used to be French occupied and the signs are in French occasionally.
Cute girls look hot when busting around here on a motorcycle.
Most stuff is cheap.
Eating at a fancy restaurant costs less than McDonalds.
We don’t drink Guinness, we inhale it. Or so some Brit said.
I hate wearing sandals and stepping in a steaming pile of: dog, cow, goat, human poo.
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So we came back from eating to find the lady of the house waiting for us. Apparently there was some miscommunication and we had only paid for one night. I am not sure how much I believe that since I tend to trust Grant’s negotiating skills. But we paid more.
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Last night we saw our rickshaw for the first time. It looks sweet. Some of the others are way more intricate though. And Bill Murray’s head looks a bit wonky. It’s like they spent a lot of time on some and then ran out of time on others. Thinking about it though it could be because we turned ours in late.
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I was of the opinion I should get gifts for people but the rest of the group doesn’t agree with gifting and I am thinking the same. Will they actually use anything I get them?
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I need to get shorts so I can wash my clothes but the store is closed and I’m unsure if I can try them on. I feel like I miscalculated in packing.
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Our rickshaw officially took a shit today. All day yesterday from the time we took off it would make a horrendous screeching noise and stop. Well this morning after 5 more grinds it made on particularly long and loud and noticeably worse noise and died just before we got to a toll booth. We coasted to the side of the road and tried our normal routine of going to neutron and pulling on the start lever. This time though it wouldn’t budge. Britt and Mike walked to the toll and we were informed of a repair place that we had just passed. We turned it around and started pushing. They do push quite easily when tires are inflated properly. We found a mechanic and through noises and weird body gestures managed to communicate the problem. He hopped in the driver’s seat and gave a yank.
“Piston,” he said.
Damn it.
We talked to a Canadian team on the road this morning and they blew their piston on the start line and they lost a whole day. The mechanic started tearing into it and sure enough, chunks of piston metal all throughout the cylinder. We will need a new piston, ring, some gaskets, and a bore on the cylinder wall.
3 hours he said. We will see.
Till then I guess it’s an early lunch.
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Still waiting.
I’m so horribly bored.
I went and bought a liter of paint and a brush and painted the back wheels and a good portion of the tires bright red. I would have painted the roof rack red also but our stuff is on it. Britt made an attempt at painting eyes on the rear view mirrors.
Key word, “attempt.”
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Most helmets here look like they are from the 70’s. Like literally 30 years old.
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I remain bored and now have to pee but am unsure where. Toilets here aren’t readily available and I don’t want to just go anywhere because
a) People are everywhere and
b) Where I pee may be someone’s front yard or house or something.
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I just heard the first plane since we left the airport.
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I want to go get away from the coast but this isn’t a democracy or I’m not in charge. Weird mob mentality here. 4 person mob. Us.
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The paper has a page dedicated to math games. I think I shall do some.
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Well, I never got to the math games.
They mechanic rolls up on his Royal Enfield just as I opened the paper. We all got real excited and watched closely as they put it together and made sure that there were no chunks of metal left in the case.
Soon the moment of truth was upon us, time to start it up and pray that it worked.
We turn the key, pulled the start and it fired up. Everything seemed all right, a bit of smoke from all the oil used to lubricate, but ok. And then to make sure, he gave it a bit of gas.
A grinding noise.
As if the fan looking bit was rubbing or the exhaust was rattling but worse. A look of concern came over everyone’s faces. This was not good. A bit more gas and the noise was getting quieter.
“Maybe it would be ok after all,” we thought. “Maybe it was just machining itself down to where it needed to be and it would be fine?”
The mechanics though, still didn’t look happy and started to crouch around it, bending to listen and feel it.
And then a crunch, a grind, and a thud as the motor came to an abrupt and violent stop.
Our expressions said it all. Dejection. Annoyance. Confusion. Frustration.
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Another fried piston. And this time they think the balance weights on the crank may have shifted.
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At present the motor is in pieces on the ground all around us. We will be staying here tonight, somewhere. Hopefully we can get it working tomorrow.
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Britt and Grant aren’t back yet. They went in search of a hotel. One with a toilet would be sweet but god only knows what kind of place they will find, this town isn’t too big.
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They just put the motor back in again and here come Britt and Grant now.
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They were all smiles, sweat, and Grant’s pants were torn.
Turns out they only found a volleyball game and no place to stay. What the fuck, they didn’t even get Mike and me.
Now that it’s nearly dark we have to find a place.
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We didn’t want to drive at night. Not ever. So what do we do the second night out?
Drive at night.
So turns out all the hotels are full, that or they didn’t like us. That left us with two options; drive or camp in the rickshaw.
You could tell no one wanted to camp, it wasn’t even brought up actually.
Driving wasn’t as bad as we had thought, but 6km (about 4 miles) and at 35 to 40 km/h it doesn’t take long.
The hotel we found is posh. Huge, monstrous room, changing room, and bathroom. A/C. toilet with paper. 2 nice beds. 10 ft ceilings. Marble floors. Expensive 4000 RP a night. Which means that twice now we’ve had a nice place to stay. Probably downhill from here in terms of accommodations.
Our rickshaw fix though only cost 1500 RP and that’s with a 260 RP tip. Labor for the whole day was only 600 RP. So cool. We feared a total cost of 4000 RP or more. Odd really since we pay that much here just to sleep. But anyways, it probably should have been 4000+ RP and we felt bad for leaving such a small tip for 9+ hrs of work. We are talking about sending him some tools though to help him with his business.
Time for bed. We will be on the road by 6 am.
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What a shit hole.
Apparently A/C counts for a lot here since this was 1000 RP for two rooms, which in theory is only $10 per room but still….
The bed has one large tear and several anonymous stains. The whole room feels damp and moldy. I’m afraid to look at the bathroom after Britt said it was worse than the beach/Pondi place. Weird smudges, foot prints, hand prints, and I swear I see a face print, mar an otherwise nasty shade of off-white/tan paint on the walls of our room. The place is lit by one garish florescent light on the wall the bed is attached to and again, the TV doesn’t work. WTF, it only works with the remote? Whatever. Jesus there are dumb shows on.
I look around.
What a shit hole.
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(I am slightly drunk)
Fucking TV.
No cable to the TV from the wall, so we go to Britt and Mike’s room to get theirs since they’re gonna be doing it and won’t need it.
Anyways, our TV volume doesn’t go down, only up. As we figure this out the volume screams to 61 and we now have duct tape and a sleeping bag covering the TV to try and silence the noise.
I can only hope the other room is done doing it before we get kicked out.
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*1 1/2 weeks of not writing. to difficult to write in the back while it's moving and to tired to write at night.
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On a train now to Mughalsarai. This section is bumpy as shit. The train stopped not too long ago.
(Jumbled words I can’t read)
Fucking bumps.
Anyways, as I was saying, the train stopped for what I thought was a normal stop. Apparently it wasn’t completely normal since I saw a bunch of kids run up and throw rocks at the train when it started to move. I walked over to the door as the train stopped again and found that there were a few people at the doors. I asked on man if he spoke English and he head wobbled and I wondered out loud what was going on.
“Nuisance,” he said.
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This train ride hasn’t sucked completely, just mostly. It’s humid and warm in here. 1AC is the only way to go, unless you like to try to talk to people.
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The car behind this one has open windows.
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Varanasi now.
Woke at 5:30 for a boat ride on the Ganga (Ganges) River at 6 am. Turns out that they boat ride had 2 other people on it from Canada.
The Ganga is a flowing sewer.
I saw a dead and bloated goat floating by and something else under the water that looked like a head in some white linens, trying to float up but not able to. Add to that the people bathing, washing clothes, and defecating along the banks. Plus the temple that burns 150 people a day and goes for 24 hrs a day and dumps pile after pile of ash and charcoal on the edge of the river to be washed away later. And 95% of the people out and about on the boats were white tourists.
So disappointing.
At one point though, I did see a funeral pyre that had just been lit and had a pair of feet sticking out of it.
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2:30 pm.
I asked the hotel guy to get us a cab for 3:45. Gives us an hour to get there and get on. I would rather be leaving in 15 min but Mike doesn’t want to just sit around the station, though yesterday we got there 2 hrs early and only were on 15 min before we left. If it turns out like that I don’t know what will happen. And by that I mean we miss our train. I’m not paying for a new ticket, that’s for damn sure.
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So we made it with plenty of time. Turns out we were only 5 km from the yard and the train was delayed by 40 min. now we are on our way and much the wiser to the way these trains work. We even have a whole section to ourselves, though the individual lights aren’t working. I’ll take extra room over those lights when on this side, and not the lower berth.
(more bad hand writing)
Jouncey-bouncey as fuck.
This train is a rocket too.
We are moving. Its god awful boring and the fact that I’m having such difficult time writing is fucking annoying. Only 12 hrs though Mike sometimes says 18.
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Taj Mahal and Red Fort (Agra Fort).
I found the Taj, even with all the people and all the hustle and bustle, to have this total sense of calm. Especially on the side area’s where no one was. Not so much a sense of history, but peace. Tranquility.
And the Agra Fort was a feeling of quite desolation and slow crumbling. Peaceful like dying when you’re old and ready to leave your physical form.
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I am super tired still.
Last night we snagged some pillows from the empty train cabins. This worked out perfectly till about midnight when I felt a tug on my pillow and my head drop. Damn train stewardess dude had yanked the extra pillow out from under my head, the fucker. That was just the start though as the other occupants of the cabin showed up later and tried to get their privacy lights working by hitting all the switches in the room. Damn annoying, I tell you, as the intensely bright light flickers on and off 2 ft from your face. And we weren’t sure when we would arrive so I kept waking up fearing we had missed our stop. I woke at 5:15 am and got completely ready to go only to hear that I had 1 hr and 45 min to go before we arrived.
Not much good sleep.
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I can’t believe that 2 rickshaw teams destroyed their rides 30 km away from the finish.
Retarded.
Driving beyond the conditions of the road and their own abilities.
It’s not a rally for fucks sake.
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Excited to get home. Almost as excited as we were to get here, but not quite and not in the same way. Still it will be very nice to get home and unwind and relax. The plane ride can’t come soon enough but it’s not till 3 am and its 7 pm now.
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We need a calculator.
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Paying to pee is retarded I think. The restrooms aren’t any cleaner and I swear I don’t ever see anyone flush a urinal.
So why the cost?
Infrastructure?
I seriously doubt it. Lots of water goes right into the rivers and streams. I don’t even know if sewage treatment plants exist here. And people who can’t pay or have to go bad end up just peeing wherever. Pick some other natural bodily function and charge for it? Well, I suppose sleeping counts, but it’s not the point!
I pee freely!
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Kingfisher still makes me feel ill. Though almost 2 tall beers a piece makes waiting for a train almost bearable.
Almost.
God awfully boring again.
The din and rattle of voices and noises turns into a gentle, if not persistent and slightly annoying hum.
Time is crawling though.
Nothing to do but observe and write.
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I dislike being taken advantage of or exploited. I suppose that is a general human condition and most likely doesn’t bother people unless you feel like it’s happening to you (if you think it’s cool and are happy with it, is it really taking advantage?) At the same time I know in India we have at times taken liberties or even advantage, but it’s just such a give and take place I don’t feel especially bad for anything.
Other than the really poor.
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The hand position that the old man sitting across from me has his left hand in makes it look like he’s flipping me off.
I like to believe he is.
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Not at all what I was expecting in 1AC. Totally expecting a closed door room thing and here I am looking at some Amtrak style crap.
Great, an airliner on wheels.
What a total disappointment.
Where’s my “Darjeeling Limited” style compartment where my friends and I can talk about how much fun we’ve had and how this experience has changed our lives?
Where’s the guy in a turban serving us?
Where is anything cool?
As we are departing shitty over equalized mid and treble Indian style elevator music is warbling out of speakers in the ceiling.
Damn it, this is nothing like my imagination! Strike some of that, some guy in a turban thing just offered me some food, but still not what I was expecting. Could be worse I suppose, instead of some poor child wandering up and down the aisles shouting, “Panni! Panni! Water! Panni!” They just give you water here.
By “they” I mean the guys in the quasi turbans, not some poor child.
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Some older gentleman that looks a bit like Ralph Nader is sitting across from me eating a vegetarian meal. I wish he would start spouting off on something political so I could tell him to shut the fuck up. Not that I agree or disagree with Nader or even this old guy across from me, I just feel like being a confrontational dick all the sudden.
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Time to drink some Kingfisher.
Kingfisher Premium no less.
Drinking water.
Premium drinking water.
I pray I never take tap water that doesn’t make me shit my insides all over the place, for granted ever again.
Yum, Premium…..
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My Imodium AD is still going strong. 7 hrs till air plane toilet.
India is a place where you would be well advised to play your bowel movements, least they creep up on you in a location that is less than lacking. Like the side of the road, aka the shoulder of the road.
If National Highway 5 made me realize anything, it’s that squatting and shitting shouldn’t be just reserved for things like camping and the privacy of your own home. It should be shared, and what better way than along the side of a National Highway early in the morning?
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I’ve been wearing the exact same clothes for 5 days now. I’ve sweat, danced, and slept in them. Even better, my pants haven’t been “washed” in 7 or more, and even that washing was just dunking them in some water and hanging them on the back of the rickshaw to dry.
My white shirt is turning grey.
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I can’t tell if I should push my body to fatigue on this trip on the way home or if I should attempt just random sleep. I do tend to snore and occasionally drool. The drooling is ok since it only affects me but I can wake the dead with my snoring.
My head is hurting a bit. Probably should sleep, it being dark and all.
Also I’ve been sleeping at or around dark for 2 weeks now, so it’s what my body wants.
Fuck you body, I’m calling the shots and I say stay awake!
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You win again body. One of these days though…..
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In the airport waiting.
This terminal is tiny, looks like 6 gates total.
1.5 hrs till we board but there is no gate listed for our flight anywhere. We are all fantastically tired and met one of the guys from the Tetris rickshaw, Jon. He is on the same flight. We thought that was the case when we talked to him in Shillong but it was only confirmed a little bit ago when he found us in the airport.
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I took 1200 photos since the day we were going to leave Varanasi which was roughly 48 hrs ago. Most of those, probably 1100 of them were from today starting at the Taj. That’s a lot of photos. I’m going to stitch a bunch of them together when we get home.
When I get home.
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I am working up a very good buzz on the plane while watching “The Last Samurai.”
So happy to be headed home.
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In order to get into the US there is a 5 min video.
The intro to this video was hilarious. Football, Mt. Rushmore, an 8 lane highway – ALL AMERICAN!
Fucking dumb.
At least by being from America we don’t have to fill out those I-94 forms in addition to the customs one.
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Tuesday, January 20, 2009
but for now, after 48 hours of straight tourism, travel, train, and plane and some serious up and coming jet lag i've got to do the only sane and reasonable thing to do....
....go to a bar.
-mark
Sunday, January 18, 2009
This is our last day in India. I am having mixed feelings but mostly excited to be coming home. We just arrived in Agra and mike is printing our plane tickets so I decided to take the opportunity to blarg. We are going to hire a rickshaw driver for the day who will help us kill time before our train departs this evening at 8pm, the cost 350 rs ($7) for an entire day. We will see the Taj, the Fort, I think he said something about a waterfall. It seems much cleaner here and most people speak english so hopefully it will be an eventful day (knock on wood). we learned from the ricky run not take the chance of even thinking positive things because they will inevitably go wrong. The things i will miss most about india: 1. chai 2. dosa or dosai 3. the cost of everything, cheap! Things I will not miss: 1. the toilets, or lack thereof 2. Trash trash everywhere 3. being stared at like a monkey.
Oh I almost forgot to add about Varanasee, it was amazing! The Ganges really are a spectacular sight that I am blessed to have been able to see. We took a sunrise boat ride up and down the Ganges, so spectaular. We met this artist named Veejay who actually has some carvings and artwork in the museum of nature and science in Denver. He brought us into his home and gave us tea. He showed us his artwork and told us stories of the gods. It was an amazing experience. Brian, I found you a one of a kind Kali that was hand carved in this house. It took the artist about 3 weeks to make. I think you are going to love it. I really wish that we could have stayed there longer. I could have spent months there. The people were the kindest and you could tell living by the Mother Ganga has made their hearts pure. Gotta go! -britt
Saturday, January 17, 2009
So, we left Shillong reluctantly, and took a 3 hour jeep taxi ride down the most winding road we had driven on in all of India. We all took motion sickness pills in advance, and Britt still got sick. Cars are weird now. Shillong was amazing. It is my favorite part of India so far. The Khasi people that live there are very friendly, and much more laid back than the rest of the Indians. Also, they don't look like Indians, they look much more like eastern Asian people. Shillong was the first time I saw any women in India wearing blue jeans, and it was pretty awesome.
When we arrived at the Guwahati train station, we ran into a bit of trouble. I hadn't printed our train boarding passes, because the printer at the hotel wouldn't work that morning. Turns out, you seemingly can't get them reprinted at the train station (although Lonely Planet, and our actual e-tickets say you can for a 50 rupee charge). I finally found a guy who spoke English, and he took me to about 10 different people at the train station, explained our situation, and asked them to print out our tickets for us. Turns out nobody would help us. Indian efficiency at it's finest, the left hand doesn't know what the right hand (or it's five fingers) are doing...ever. Anyway, the guy was very helpful, but he had to get on a train before we could resolve it. I ended up leaving the train station, grabbing the nearest rickshaw driver that could understand what I needed, and having him take me to the nearest internet cafe to print up the tickets. I ended up getting back to the train station with only about 15 minutes to spare.
The train, like most everything else in India, was not what I expected at all. It was pretty run down (like most everthing else in India) even though we were in the nicest compartment in the train. There were quite a few cockroaches crawling on the walls for the duration of out 27 hour train ride, and the freaked Britt out a bit. The highlight had to be when a huge rat grabbed one of the food trays and dragged it over to the corner to have some lunch. Mark got a real kick out of that one.
Now we've arrived in Varanasi, and gotten a pretty nice hotel suite on the banks of the Ganges. In the first two minutes of arriving at our hotel, I had already doubled the number of white people I'd seen in India since leaving Pondicherry. That's, of course, not including the rickshaw runners. There are tourists completely filling out hotel, though I doubt none of them have experienced the India we've experienced. Tomorrow we will take a sunrise boat ride up the Ganges that should be fantastic, then another 18 hours on the train in the afternoon. - Mike
Friday, January 16, 2009
1. 14 hour layovers suck. 14 hour layovers in Dehli, where you can't enter the airport until 4 hours prior to your flight time, and the visitors lounge costs money, and you have to haul around your luggage the whole time and everyone on the street, including the security workers will ask you for tips, really suck.
2. If you have two 9+ hour flights, just stay overnight between the two. You will be wrecked by the time you get to the US.
3. I'm actually really impressed now with the US airports and their efficiency. If you ever want to really be annoyed just go stand in the Heathrow security line. First time I've ever seen someone go through the metal detector without actually taking anything out of his pockets and not taking shoes and belt off.
4. Drooling all over the front of your shirt the one time you do fall asleep on the flight is kind of funny.
That's all for now. Seven hours from now I'll finally be done with flying for a few days.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Dear friends and family, this is the official blog to announce that WE HAVE MADE IT! After 2 1/2 motors, 2 batteries, one injured cyclist, head to head combat with trucks the size office buildings, and dodging almost every kind of wildlife that exists, we have made it through the country of India. The last steep climb to Shillong is about 80k (50ish miles) we flew up the hill at a roaring speed barely missing trucks by inches and saw just outside of town a sign that said "Welcome Rickshaw Runners, something about bravery, and you made it!" I was bouncing with delight. We found out yesterday that two teams flipped there rickky just 30k outside of Shillong. Can you imagine doing the drive all the way through India then flipping just minutes from the finish? No. No you can't. Our finish point was at a hotel at the top of the hill and it had another banner that said "YOU MADE IT!" I can't tell you how amazing that was, the feeling was encredible (sorry you missed it grant). We got there, signed in, and had a celebratory beer. Maybe not a good idea since all we had had to eat were a few biscuts (cookies). No, it was a good idea. Yesterday we did the finale Rickshaw Run hoopla. Paraded our ride through town with local drummers leading the way, then a boring spell of watching cricket, then a dinner, drinking, and dancing party that put our parties to shame. Everyone feeling the worth of their accomplishments all in one joyus celebration.
Mike, Mark and I are leaving on a train today for Viranashe, then Agra, then Dheli, then home. It has been a journey. No one could even imagine what this adventure entails until you actually do it. Now that it is over I am feeling worn and tired but have a sense that I have done something greater than I could ever have imagined.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
My mom wanted to know why the hell we didn't take the coastal route. Basically it was because it was getting a bit boring and was way too easy. Talking to teams that did, they said the worst road the drove on was the bit between Purnia and Siliguri, which was the best road by far we'd seen since we'd turned inland. Anyhow, it's almost 5:30 pm here and I still have to find a working printer to print my boarding pass and then get myself to the bar for a beer or two before I go to the rooftop poolside cafe. Oh how I love this hotel and it's still costing me less money than a Super 8 in the US. If there is some cute girls I'll be even more excited. Though I'll probably not even talk to them. The cute housekeeping girl was quite taken aback earlier when she came to pick up my laundry and I opened my door in just my boxers. It was funny. - Grant
Grant
Monday, January 12, 2009
2 days of hell.
The next day was cold, foggy, and the sun didn't come out all day. Not to mention, it was filled with horrible roads with the worst potholes I've ever seen in my life. Midway through the day, a group of guys tried to flag us down to get a ride. I guess they got upset when we didn't stop, and swerved around them as they were standing in the middle of the road. Right after that, we got stuck behind traffic and one guy from the group ran up to us. He tried to pull Mark out of the rickshaw and was yelling. Right when I thought we were about to have a serious problem, traffic cleared and we took off. I was pretty down after that.
Turns out, we made it to Purnea that night and found a pretty good hotel, and the best town we had been to in days. Did some shopping, and actually had a great night. Today I was drivig in the fog when a motorcycle decided to turn right in front of me. I had to hit the brakes and avoid him right as he decided to turn back into me to try to avoid me. I ended up going up on the shoulder and barely missing him by a few inches. It was totally his fault, but it still when have been really crappy to hit two guys on a motorcycle.
We've made it to Siliguri by about 12:30 in the afternoon, and gone straight to the three star hotel in town. We pulled up, and there were 6 other rickshaws outside. Unfortunatly, they've all taken a day trip up to Darjeeling, so we won't get to talk to any of them until tonight or tomorrow. We're now hoping to make it to Shillong in two days time. That would put us there one day early, after having two days broken down at the beginning of out trip. Hope the rickshaw holds out a little longer. - Mike
I see the light at the end of the tunnel.
We have been going strong everyday. The past two days have been fog covered roads then Watch out! another pot hole, or Watch out! that bus is going the wrong way and has no intention of stopping! But we have made it out safe and alive and Lady Jaqualine is rockin' and rollin'! After busting our asses on those roads meant for no human or rickshaw we have at last made it to luxery. We are now staying at the Sinclairs Retreat where we found 6 other rickshaws. Filled with the excitment to share stories we all realized everyone's gone up to Darjeeling for the day. After almost getting mugged, traveling through potholes the size of my house, and not sleeping for well... two weeks it is nice to be staying at a hotel that has laundry service, toilet paper, and clean walls. I think our whole team is blocking out the last two days and focusing on the more beautiful pleasantries to come. See you at the finish line!
-brittFriday, January 9, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
We've blown our engine two and a half times now. The firt time, our mechaninc Selva worked about 8 hours replacing the piston first, then completely removing and tearing down the engine to remove all the broken piston pieces. He and his helper worked all day on our engine, in the dirt on the side of the road in front of his shop. His labor charge for the day was 600 rupees, which is $12. Of course we payed him more (about $15), but it really broke my heart that he works so hard for so little. I can't imagine how much the unskilled make. Our second piston and cylinder replace cost us 150 rupees for about 2 hours of the mechanics time. $3 is all that is. It's just unbelievable.
I know Britt has already talked about Rosey, but I just want to speak about her for a minute. Rosey lost two children, her husband, and her house in the Tsunami four years ago. I have never met a happier person in my life. She helped us find a mechanic, translated everything for us, fed us lunch in her families grass hut (in which 6 people live), gave Britt clothes, and asked for nothing in return. Of course we gave her 2000 rupees when we left (which is probably about a months pay for her as she is a nurse), and I am so glad that she accepted it. Before we left town Rosey took us to her catholic church. There, Rosey, Britt, Grant, and I prayed while a funeral was going on. It was one of the most touching moments of my life.
We've had two and a half trouble free days now, and we're making good time. 6 days into the journey, and we have finally turned inland and plotted our journey to Shillong. If we don't break down again, we should make it there just barely. Suprisingly, ten hours a day in a rickshaw is not as bad as I imagined it would be. There's something pleasing about loading up every morning and continuing on our journey. - Mike
"Hellow to 2009"
I know Grant is writing also but I thought I would put my perspective in as well since it has been one hell of a two days, or has it been three? So since the last blog we stayed the night in "challe de prostitute" I swear that what blood on the wall. We all got an early start on the morning and headed out of town we got about 2k before we heard the famous "vooorooo chu chuck ck" which means that the piston was yet again broken. All of our hearts sank, it was a very very low point. The boys pushed the rickshaw the 2k back into town while i steered. As we were slowly rolling along we realized that it was Sunday and it would be next to impossible to find a place open. The fear of losing yet another day made our spirits sink even lower. As we got into town we pulled over next to some beat up rickshaws hoping that perhaps there was a mechanic near. There was no mechanic nearby but there was Rosey. And most importantly of all...Rosey spoke English, very good English. Let me take a side break to explain how males treat females in India. Men ignore for the most part all females, they will not talk to a female directly, they only speak to your husband, or another male who is with you. This is very discouraging to me since I love to talk to everyone and I am the most willing to go up to a stranger and talk out of the group. This morning I was feeling extra sensitive about this matter like I have been continually pushed back and ignored, that's Ongle for you. When Rosie showed up it was like a HUGE ray of sunshine came over my head. She only talked to me mostly because I was a girl and she pampered me and she told us where a mechanic was and when he would be in and she made sure he would not rip us off. She did all this then she invited us into her shack of a home which was probably only the size of our bathroom and her mother fed us. I must announce that at this meal I did eat chicken, it was one of those one in a million situations and I did. Afterwards Rosie showed me two shacks down where she got the chicken from. Then she proceeded to take my 5 day old clothes off and dress me in one of her very own sari's from her meager collection of clothing. She helped translate all the mechanic mumbo jumbo and by 2pm we were able to hit the road. But not before we went to church to pray. I thanked god that day in that church while funeral processions were happening. I left feeling completely different than I had that morning, it is amazing how things can change so quickly. We began driving like crazy to get a little catching up time since we spent most of the day in Ongle. This is where we had our first and last night driving experience. Luckily we had Grant "stressful situation guru" at the wheel to guide us slowly and terrifyingly to the closest hotel, which is a little confusing sometimes since they call restaurants hotels also. The next morning we set out with me behind the wheel. I lasted all of 2 minutes in the city before Grant got back behind the wheel. An hour later and one injured bicyclist later we were back on the road. It was a fairly smooth ride into Raja-somthing and then today it has been sore behinds, a new battery, and running out of gas which is totally fine as long as our "Lady Jaqualine" sails smooth. I am ending this novel and will post again when I can. -britt
animal spottings: pigs, rats, monkeys, water buffalo, cows, dogs, and lots of mosquitos
Saturday, January 3, 2009
whew! where to begin! so from the start our "Lady Jaqualine" aka "Team Zissou Sub-galore" was a bit of a wreck, breaking down every few kilometers. She finally had enough right before we entered Chennai luckily right infront of an auto repair shop. Double Glories! Needless to say it took two pistons and an entire engine rebuild not to mention an entire day to get her fixed. After that whole ordeal we had a lovely nights rest in a hotel room fit for a prince. We drove from 6am to 6pm and ended up here in Ogle? We only just now had our first meal of the day. Lets not do that again. We have checked into a lovely hotel that is fit for a prostitute or maybe a crack head, mysterious stains and smells come from every oriface but at least our rickshaw is running and we are all safe and sound. This part of India is so very different from the city. Wildlife surrounds us we were able to see wild monkeys, water buffalo bathing in the waters, and endless rice fields. It really has been incredible. Two high fives for Grant for driving through Chennai, Two for Mike for saying "yea, I can build one of these engines now", One high five to mark for not getting Dehli belly yet, and a high five to me for being able to take a two hour nap in the back of a rickshaw with two large dudes. We will keep you updated if we can find inter-web access, if not just know we are having one hell of an adventure. -britt
Don't forget you can check out more info at www.rickshawrun.theadventurists.com
or www.teamzusa.com