A Different Traffic Jam remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>The Deep Freeze remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>Mom, Dad, and Emma arrived in Bombay in the wee hours of the morning the day after Christmas, and were thus able to witness the most rare and astonishing phenomenon in all of India - the roads of Mumbai clear of traffic. We spent 10 days in and around Mumbai, taking in the sights and enjoying the food. After that we packed up and embarked on our odyssey.
First we flew to Nagpur, in eastern Maharashtra, which was our home for one night (and the site of the Emma - Cockroach battle). Early in the morning we rented a vehicle and headed to Kanha, a Tiger Reserve. We checked into our gorgeous retreat after a seven hour drive and enjoyed the scenery and crisp air before retiring early. We rose even earlier than the day before at 4:30am and boarded our open-air safari jeep in the freezing pre-dawn chill on a mission to spot a tiger.
We cruised the reserve until almost noon. The landscape was lush and alive with birds, deer, and monkeys. We also got the occasional glimpse of a bison or rare bird, such as the reclusive and massive eagle-owl which swooped over our jeep. It was almost time to go when we learned of a nearby "Tiger Show." The park rangers, riding around on elephants, had located one of the tigers sleeping under a bush in mid-morning warmth. We drove to the closest point we could, and then boarded our very own elephant for the final distance through the bush to spot the tiger. The elephant was equipped with a small wooden platform which seated four tourists and a driver, and the thrill of being perched atop a pondering pachyderm nearly matched that of seeing one of the world's most dangerous predators.
Over the next two days we twice more ventured into the reserve, and although we did not spot another tiger it was not disappointing. The thrill of waiting in a hushed jeep, straining your ears to hear the screeching warning calls of monkeys high in the trees and trying to guess the exact location is one I will not soon forget. I was even bitten by the ornithology bug, thanks to Uday, our excellent and informative naturalist.
It was with great regret that we departed Kanha, and hopped an overnight train to our next stop - Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. The ride was an entire adventure itself; from the danger of not getting tickets (oops, I didn't book ahead) to the disgust of cockroaches swarming the sleeping coach, and finally the relief of finally arriving safe and sound in Agra. They say that most monuments and wonders of the world disappoint in person, but the Taj, like the Great Wall, is just as magnificent as could possibly be imagined. I can still hardly believe how perfect it is. The design is flawless, and the craftsmanship is superb. It is made even more impressive by Dad's observation that at roughly the same time as the Taj was erected the Pilgrims were starving and freezing to death in poorly made huts in Plymouth. We also took in several other Moughal tombs and the massive Agra Fort, all dating to the 15th and 16th centuries.
After Agra we headed to the capital, Delhi. We took in the sights, such as the stunning Jama Masjid (Grand Mosque), enjoyed some of the best Indian food I have ever tasted, and did some shopping the bazaars. Then it was time for a sad goodbye, as Mom, Dad, and Emma boarded their flight back home (via Moscow and an 11 hour layover - YUCK!). It was a wonderful, beautiful, superb adventure and family reunion all over India, and so much fun that I even shed a few tears after dropping them at the airport (shhhhh - don't tell anyone!).
The Reidy Family Takes India remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>19) Look Who's Riding Shotgun! The Eid/goat thing is so awesome that it gets two spots on the list. In order to bring your goat home, you need some form of transportation. Most Indians don't have their own car, and certainly can't afford to rent one just for one day a year, so the simple solution is public transportation. Seeing a person in the back of taxi with his goat on the way home is a sight not to be missed, and is topped only by the sight of multiple people AND multiple goats riding in an auto-rickshaw. The record so far is three adults and three goats in an auto-rickshaw, which, lest we forget, is designed to carry two people.
20) Losing Laura in a Crowd: Laura, with her dark hair and vaguely central Asian features, recently bought several salwaar kameez, which is a very common outfit for Indian women consisting of loose pants, a knee-length loose cotton shirt, and a shawl which is worn backwards, called a dupatta. Now, if we are walking down the perpetually-crowded Mumbai streets and I look away for a moment I completely loose track of her. From the front, she could certainly pass for Indian (as long as she didn't open her mouth), but from the back she is completely indistinguishable from the masses. Needless to say, she is quite proud of herself.
1,001 Things I Love About India (continued) remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>My Lunch remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>Sanjeev is an Indian-American volunteer for the Clinton Foundation, working in a state in South India. A few weeks ago, he went to the airport along with another American volunteer, Chris, to pickup a shipment of 200 HIV testing kits. The shipment was so large that they had to rent a small truck in addition to the Jeep that they came in, so Sanjeev rode back in the Jeep and Chris in the truck. A few miles down the road, the police pulled over the truck and began arguing with the driver. This is not entirely uncommon, as the police are generally on the corrupt side and merely seeking a bribe. Give them a few dollars and you can be on your way. Unfortunately, neither Chris nor Sanjeev spoke the local dialect, so they had no idea what was happening. After exchanging words for a few minutes with the driver, one of the police officers hopping in the truck and directed the driver down a side road with Chris riding shotgun.
Sanjeev, riding in the Jeep, began to get a bit nervous. He decided the best course of action would be to call his mother at home in America, just to inform her of the situation. He promised to call her back as soon as the situation was resolved, and followed the truck in his Jeep. Soon the policeman stopped them at a police station, took a small bribe, and sent them on their way - no harm done. The problem was that Sanjeev forgot to call back his mother.
His mother conferred with his sister, who, in a panic, called the Harlem office of the Clinton Foundation to apprise them of the situation. The Harlem office, which is unaffiliated with the HIV/AIDS Initiative, called the Quincy office, who promptly called Rajesh, one of the global heads of the HIV/AIDS Initiative and based in India. To make matters worse, somewhere in this little game of telephone the message got changed and Rajesh was informed by the Quincy office that one of his volunteers had been kidnapped by the police along with 200 HIV-positive KIDS.
Rajesh frantically called the country director, Ameeth, who immediately telephoned the state coordinator to ask what in world was going on. The puzzled state coordinator began updating him on the status of his meeting with several pediatricians. Ameeth stopped him and demanded to know the status of the kidnapped volunteers and the HIV-positive kids. This, of course, was met with even greater puzzlement, since Sanjeev and Chris were sitting on the other side of the room, perfectly safe, and decidedly not kidnapped.
Word was sent back up the chain that everything was fine, and a valuable lesson was learned by all - when you are in trouble with the police in a foreign country, don't call your mother until everything is resolved.
A Kidnapping??? remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>So early tomorrow morning we are hopping a flight to Goa and staying in a cottage on the beach for the next 3 nights before taking an overnight bus home on Monday. If you want to be jealous, do a Google image search for "Palolem Beach, Goa" and imagine Laura and I sitting there sipping cocktails and watching the sunset. Not that I'm bragging or anything. Now that I've built it up, I certainly hope it's a good weekend, and worry not because I'm sure Laura will send more pictures than you ever wanted to see when we return. So until then, enjoy your weekend and hope that we get good weather!
Goin' to Goa remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>Brief Update remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>It all started last Thursday, October 11, when I woke up with a headache and feeling queasy. I went to work, but by afternoon was running a fever and felt miserable. I went home around 5, got in bed, and didn't get up until the following morning. That night I was so feverish (103.5 degrees) that Laura called Sameer, our boss (and a doctor) for advice, which was take some Tylenol and try to sleep it off. The next morning I was just as feverish and ill, so Sameer sent us to his father-in-law who has a practice not too far from our apartment. He ran some blood tests and the like, which came back negative for malaria, typhoid, and all the other scary tropical diseases. He gave me prescription-strength fever reducer, vitamins, and some antibiotics, figuring it was either a viral fever (very common in Mumbai) or a stomach parasite of some sort. I took my pills and rested all through the weekend and on Monday, but didn't feel any better. Every evening and every morning the pills would wear off and my fever would return, and bring with it the chills and all sorts of other fun.
Finally, on Tuesday, we went back to the doctor, who ran more blood tests and, upon observing that my blood count was low, recommended that I be admitted. He gave me a bed in the small hospital/clinic he runs and started me on an IV. He also decided that even though my malaria tests were still negative, I exhibited all the signs and symptoms and started me on anti-malarials and a host of other antibiotics and IV injections. The only thing they all shared in common was their remarkably similar taste, which was sort of a mix between bile and chalk. And yes, I'm still taking them, and yes, I am bitter about it. But not as bitter as the taste.
My room in the clinic was clean, small, and that's about it. It was my hospital bed, a small cot for Laura, and an IV. Luckily it had an attached bathroom, but unfortunately it did not contain a shower. I also didn't come prepared with a change of clothes, so needless to say that after a few days I started to smell kinda bad. In fact, really bad. There was also no AC, and this being India, it was kinda hot. On the plus side, it was clean, most of the nurses were very nice, and the medication was potent.
I was in the clinic from Tuesday evening until Saturday afternoon, after which time I had taken my full anti-malarial course and my fever had vanished for 72 hours. So here I am now on Monday afternoon, still at home and sick, but on the road to recovery. I no longer have a fever or any of the associated symptoms, but I'm still very weak and exhausted and spend most of my day sleeping. I have a few more days of antibiotics, and a follow-up appointment with the doctor to get more blood work done, but hopefully by the end of the week I should be back to 100% and annoying you all again with inane blog postings.
M-A-L-A-R-I-A remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>2) Back-up Music: At home, only large trucks emit beeping noises when in reverse. Here, nearly every vehicle is equipped with that technology. Except they don’t beep, they play music. It sounds like a really loud cell phone ring, and you can get any tune you want. I actually heard “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” coming from a hatchback in a parking lot last week.
3) Cricket: See the previous blog post. What can I say, I miss baseball and this sport is addicting.
4) Indian Food and Ghee: With the exception of paneer, which is Indian tofu, I have yet to find a dish that I don’t like. I’ve even fallen into somewhat bizarre eating habits, such as munching raw red onions sprinkled with lemon juice as an appetizer. I also decided that I liked my food cooked with ghee, even though I had no idea what it was I just liked the taste. Then I found out that ghee is butter, which means that I just like my food to be cooked in huge gobs of butter.
5) Indian Eating Times: Most restaurants close their doors between 6pm and don’t open again until they start serving dinner at 7:30pm. Laura and I often eat at 8:00pm and are the only ones eating. I feel like I’ve retired to Florida and am getting the Denny’s early-bird special at 4:30.
6) Bureaucracy: This deserves an entire post of its own. Nothing can be done until approval is given by a supervisor, at least 10 unnecessary forms are signed, and the supervisor gives approval again. As Laura says, this can be a great country to be a tourist but a horribly frustrating one in which to work.
7) Booze: It’s hard to find, and where it does it exist it is at western prices and taxed at around 70%. And after dealing with bureaucracy all day, sometimes I really need a stiff drink after work.
8) Trains: There’s nothing quite like seeing people clinging to the OUTSIDE of a train as it rumbles by because there is no room inside (thanks to Drew for that superb link). Just another day in the life of a Mumbaiker commuter. Needless to say, I don’t ride the trains to work. Instead, I take…
9) Mumbai Taxis: Officially called Premiers, they are actually 1950s Fiat knockoffs. How they are still on the road is inexplicable. Yellow-roofed with black bodies, they are unmistakable, omnipresent, uncomfortable, and always stuck in endless traffic jams. The meters are at least 30 years out of date, so you need to use a conversion chart to determine the actual fare. Taxi drivers are experts at running up the meter, lying about the conversion rate, and displaying fake charts that double the price. If you don’t want to take a taxi or the train, you can always turn to…
10) Auto-Rickshaws: Three-wheeled motorcycles with a small cab enclosing a bench that comfortably seats two, autos are usually seen swerving in and out of traffic while carrying at least five people. They are so skillful at making traffic jams into traffic nightmares that they are banned from downtown Mumbai.
11) Cows: It’s cliché, but unceasingly amusing, to see a cow munching garbage and standing in the middle of a crowded road while Indian drivers, who are as a rule aggressive and obnoxious, wait patiently. The cows rule the roads, the sidewalks, the alleys, and anywhere else they decide to roam.
12) Hotels with Bedbugs: Definitely don’t like them. Bedbugs suck.
13) Falling Into the Sewer in the Slum: Since Laura did it, and didn’t get hurt, I consider it hilarious. If it had happened to me it wouldn’t be nearly as funny. Slum sewers are gross.
14) The Head-Waggle: A uniquely Indian gesture, it involves pivoting your head from side-to-side. It can mean yes, I understand, I am listening, no, maybe, I agree, I disagree, or anything in between. A good head-waggler resembles a bobblehead doll on steroids. I like to practice at home in front of the mirror.
15) Mr. Pai: This man deserves his own entry. He is our office assistant, an expert head-waggler, and he features one of the coolest moustaches I have ever encountered: it is long and thin and he has a wonderful habit of stroking it like an old movie villain. My favorite part of Pai is his constant disregard for the fact that Laura and I have work to do. Instead, he likes to sit and chat with us about all manner of offbeat topics. Today he asked us what brand of toothpaste we use and proceeded to launch a ten minute sermon on how Indians used salt and the ash of dried cattle dung before the British arrived. Not exactly conducive to working, but at least it’s amusing.
16) Indian look-alikes: Do you ever see someone and think to yourself, “wow, that guy looks just like so-and-so except taller/shorter/different hair/etc”? Well I’ve found several people here who could be the long-lost Indian brother or sister of Americans. My favorite is the doorman at the Punjabi restaurant around the corner who is unquestionably the Indian Paul Newman.
17) My Blog: Simply because I can title a list as “1,001 Things” and then only list 16 items. I’ll add more later.
1,001 Things I Love About India remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>The ICC World Twenty20 cricket tournament kicked off last week to a surprisingly small amount of fanfare given the nearly unhealthy level of obsession with the sport here in India. The tournament boasted a slightly new form of cricket, and India responded by holding some of their veterans at home; choosing instead to field a lineup of youngsters. Heading this group was MS Dhoni, the newly christened and surprising choice as captain. As the tournament progressed, India won several matches and the momentum and excitement began to build around Mumbai. Meanwhile, sneaking through the opposite bracket was Pakistan, improbably setting the stage for an unexpected clash of the fiercest rivalry in the world. On Friday, after Pakistan rolled over New Zealand and India trounced heavily-favored Australia, the match-up was set and the build-up began.
I got up at 6:00 this morning so I could ride to Pune, the second largest city in Maharashtra, to pack some testing kits and send them to Delhi. It was not the most exciting work, and the four-hour drive each way was not made more bearable by the fact that I had to wait several hours for the courier to arrive and take possession of the goods. I didn’t return to Mumbai until around 8:00pm, well after the 5:30 start of the final match. Luckily for me, the match started late and I arrived in time to witness a furious Pakistani comeback. They were on the verge of victory, and nationwide depression was beginning to take hold, until India salvaged a miraculous win! No sooner was the final ball caught than the firecrackers began exploding all over Mumbai. Laura and I took to the streets with the cheering masses, and as I write this the firecrackers are still popping and the streets are clogged with hordes of deliriously happy fans waving the Indian tri-color.
I think I’m beginning to become a cricket fan.
Chak De India remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>Laura and I have scheduled a bunch of meetings for this week with various NGOs in an effort to find children who might be infected with HIV but have been unable to access treatment. Most of the organizations we are meeting with target and work with high-risk groups, such as commercial sex workers or men who have sex with men. Our mission is to find out what they are doing to help the children of their target populations and to help where necessary. This morning we met with a group that works with floating sex workers (based on street corners rather than in brothels) and live almost exclusively in a large slum in the north of Mumbai, which, as previously mentioned, over 400,000 people call home. After a very productive meeting, the head of the NGO took it upon herself to show us their treatment clinic and give us a brief tour of the surrounding slum. The featured sight was the local hospital, which looked to be worse than derelict and would have been fortunate to have been condemned. The whole area managed to exceed my worst expectations of a slum in every category, most noticeably in overall odor.
After our auto-rickshaw tour concluded, we holed up in a cafe to type and submit reports for a few hours until our next meeting. This one was with one of the few organizations for gay men in all of India, and the only one in Mumbai. They work with over 60,000 men; a remarkable figure considering that homosexuality is illegal. Of these, untold thousands are married and have children due to societal pressures. After meeting with the director and planning ways to help them get their spouses and children tested without raising suspicion about their hidden sexual identity, he invited us to sit in on a support group meeting for HIV+ gay and transsexual men. Despite our reticence, owing to the fact that we were entirely unprepared and had no idea how we would communicate with the Hindi and Marathi speaking members, we agreed. The meeting ended up going better than I could have hoped, as two members spoke English and served as translators while we had an incredibly fruitful discussion about how to provide access to HIV testing and treatment to gay men and their families without compromising their identity. There was such enthusiasm from this group, despite their HIV+ status and position in society, about helping children, that I found it positively inspiring.
Finally, on our way home at 8pm (after getting up at 7:30am), we found the horrendous Mumbai traffic to be even more congested than usual. We finally figured out that this was due to the fact that today is Krishna Janmashtami; the day that Hindus celebrate the birth of the Lord Krishna. The festivities are capped by roving mandals, or districts, of children who travel around the city on chartered dump trucks. Seemingly every community sets up a handi, which is a string, garnished with flowers, suspended high in the air, usually between two buildings and around 3 stories tall. These mandals of children in dump trucks go to each handi and make a human pyramid and attempt to break the clay pot suspended on the string. The highest pyramid in each community receives a fairly substantial cash prize. In practice, it amounts to roads being closed and huge crowds of singing and dancing people watching these pyramids go up, one after the other, all night long. What a country, and what a day. And now I'm going to bed.
A Day in the Life... remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>But on a serious note, these few days without internet has also given me a backlog of work which, shockingly, takes precedence over updating my blog. So a full update will be forthcoming, presumably this weekend, and until then thank you for your patience.
And now that the serious note is over, I have a question for all of you. I am shocked and appalled at the lack of snarky comments left by my loyal readers. Why is this? How come nobody has yet to make fun of me or my writing? I'm looking at you, Derek Mullins, and you, Katie Macelbner.
Technical Difficulties remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>We have been in Delhi, the capital of India, for a full week now. Since our unexpectedly adventurous arrival we have been logging 10 hour days at the office while trying to see the city, meet our co-workers, and get over jet lag in our spare time. We have volunteered to become a part of the pediatric (or paediatric, as they spell it here in this formerly British colony) division of CHAI; a rapidly growing department since children are difficult to diagnose and treat for HIV/AIDS and are thus disproportionately under-treated. Much of our exhaustive work week has been spent meeting with various staff members throughout the pediatric program in an attempt to understand the structure of the organization and what we will be doing. So far it seems as though we will be working extensively in a program to identify more children who are infected with HIV and help them get to the treatment which the Clinton Foundation and the Government of India provide, free of charge. I'll write about how this is done when I actually understand how it is done.
At the end of this upcoming week, Laura and I will depart Delhi for Mumbai (formerly Bombay), where we will be stationed during out tenure. Mumbai is a nice, relaxing, calm town of about 20 million people. That's right 20 million people, which makes it the largest urban area in the entire world. Needless to say, I don't actually expect it to be relaxing or calm. Mumbai is the capital city of the state of Maharashtra, which as a whole clocks in at an astounding 96 million people. If it were its own country it would rank 12th in terms of population, and in terms of landmass it is slightly bigger than Norway and just a hair smaller than Poland. In other words, it's a bit bigger than Rhode Island. Once we arrive there we will be working in the CHAI field office, responsible for the entire state, with a goal of getting several thousand sick children on treatment. The work promises to be challenging and exhausting, and I can only hope it also proves to be rewarding.
Next installment: An Introduction to India
The Beginning remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>Arrival remains copyright of the author djreidy, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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