The KGB Files

Doha Landscape

2011-06-06T12:43:00.002+04:00

Doha is constantly changing. It reinvents itself on a yearly, monthly, and sometimes daily basis. If you are not good with constant change, Doha is not the place for you.

This is the new Renaissance/Marriott hotels which are due to open in 5 days.

weirdness

2010-11-25T14:21:00.004+04:00

Okay, so today I head to the Doha International Book Fair to see what is on offer. It's mostly books in arabic, which is expected, but there are a few English offerings.

However, there I am strolling through the book fair when I notice that there is one exhibition dedicated to just one author. L. Ron Hubbard. I kid you not. While there was no signage anywhere on the temporary store that said that it was sponsored by the Church of Scientology, it surely had to have been. One of the very well dressed gentlemen there said a cheery hello to me and obviously wanted to have a discussion but I just nodded and kept on walking.

Now, I'm not too sure about the laws in Qatar around proselytizing but I'm pretty sure that if it's not strictly illegal, then it must be seriously frowned upon. Obviously the managers of the book fair had no idea who L. Ron Hubbard is and just thought that the owners of the book shop were just really big fans of one author.

No matter what, it shows that the Church of Scientology certainly has some serious nerves of steel. Either that or they are just seriously ignorant about Qatar and its people's religious beliefs.

2010-10-25T12:22:00.004+04:00

Well, I've been back in Doha for over a month and the shine has worn off. I won't go into it with too much detail, as I'll get very angry and it will ruin the rest of my day. Suffice to say, I'm being seriously screwed around from an HR point of view, and it's starting to affect me financially and the mental wear and tear is starting to seriously bring me down. If another person says Inshallah to me I will stuff it right back down their throat.

The most frustrating thing about it is that it is so easily fixed. Had they done what they were suppose to do - when they promised they would do it - then I would be deliriously happy and going on with my life. Instead, they have neglected even their most basic duties and consequently they have a deeply unhappy staff member.

Anyways, to try to regain some of my sanity this week I paid a visit to the Museum of Islamic Art. It's a real showcase of a building, with some amazing things inside. The building was designed by the acclaimed I.M. Pei (responsible for the pyramid at the Louvre) and the inside was designed by the best of the best. The visit really helped calm me down a bit, but then I had to walk home. :)

2010-09-25T10:26:00.003+04:00

Well, it's been way too long since I've written in this blog. After a while I just ran out of new things to say. Work got in the way, the daily grind is not very interesting.

However, my original reason for doing the blog has come around again and so I thought I would give it another whirl. Yes, that's right. I've moved back to Doha. Crazy right? But it's for a great job and I liked it here the first time so what the hell, why not.

I've been back in Doha for a week and it's just like old times. I'm staying in a hotel in West Bay while the formalities are sorted with the appropriate government departments. West Bay is strange. There are buildings going up left right and centre, but the place is a ghost town at night. Seriously. I don't know who is going to live or work in these towers when they are done with them. The population here might have increased by 50% since I left 4 years ago (there is now about 1.5 million people in Qatar) but still there is too much space.

The best thing about this though is that it means that there is a serious glut on the market and I'm here at the right time to get a very good deal on housing. I'm going to start looking for a semi-permanent place in the next couple of weeks. The hotel is good, but I hate not being able to cook my own food.

Images of San Fran

2009-11-16T05:25:00.008+04:00

Me in a winery. Dan-ge-rous.

It's not red, dammit! It's international orange. Get with the program.

You're mine, bitches.

Hmmm, wait a minute, I've heard of that island!

Thanksgiving morning walk

2009-10-12T23:55:00.003+04:00

West Wing, S1, E18: 6 Meetings before Lunch

2009-09-11T05:48:00.000+04:00

Seems I missed this episode...funny.

It’s Toby’s day of jubilee – Mendoza is going to be elected today by at least 51 per cent of the Senate – but Toby won’t let anyone celebrate until the 51st vote is cast. Obviously in the last few episodes, Toby and Josh have been working on the confirmation process but we haven’t seen much of it.

But Mallory is going to disturb Sam’s day of Jubilee, she’s upset about a position paper that he has written about school vouchers and she commands his morning to talk about it, Sam is hapless and goes along with it even though it was a paper that was arguing the opposite of what he actually thinks. Mallory (played by Allison Smith) eats her words.

CJ has a great moment in this episode, as she lip synchs “the Jackal” for her colleagues. Allison Janney, as usual, is just great. She spends most of the episode trying to keep a story smothered about a supposed drug dealer that was arrested at a party that Zoey Bartlett was at (she left before he was arrested apparently).

Josh spends most of the episode talking to a black civil rights leader he wants to appoint to a higher office about financial reparations for slavery. It’s a good discourse and well worth listening to.

Mandy makes a pretty lame appearance here. We know she’s not in the next season and I guess that Sorkin was just trying to find something for her to do – I’m sure she was under contract and so might as well be used. She’s concerned about getting the National Zoo a new panda bear after the last one died. Boring!

2009-08-25T21:32:00.003+04:00

Here is one of the reasons why I found, and still continue to find, India an extremely frustrating country. This article just made me mad. Most of the malnourised people in India are women and children, especially female children. If there is food, it almost always goes to the men and boys first because of the cultural bias towards men. Therefore, the Indian government is punishing the most marginalized people in their society with this policy and decision.

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/indias-poor-suffer-in-official-food-fight/article1263143/

WW, S1, E20: Mandatory Minimums

2009-07-29T07:32:00.000+04:00

The administration starts their carpet bombing with the President sneaking in a comment in one of his speeches about the fact that against all tradition, he will nominate whoever he wishes to the FEC instead of taking recommendations from the political party hacks. All hell breaks loose with the press. The fury of the RNC is going to be unleashed and the senior staff are all for it. Bring it on.

We meet Andy here for the first time, Toby’s ex-wife who is a congresswoman. She’s smart, sexy, savvy and it’s obvious that Toby and her still have something going on.

But Danny’s in the doghouse himself for writing about Mandy’s memo. CJ is giving him the cold shoulder and then they have a big blowout in her office. It’s ugly. Mandy is still on the outs as well.

In their new invigorated spirit, the President is holding a series of brainstorming in his office to decide what to do next. They talk new drug laws and mandatory minimums surrounding drug arrests. And Leo threatens 7 hill staffers that if their reps don’t support him, their own demons with drugs will be put to air.

To do some polling they are bringing in Joey Lucas from California. Josh puts on a nice suit on for her. It turns out she is not sleeping with that creep guy she was before hand, which makes Josh happy.

Everyone is revved up to the max and ready to play ball…what will be the next step?

WW, S1, E 19: Let Bartlet be Bartlet

2009-07-29T07:06:00.000+04:00

The President is apparently not getting enough ruffage in his diet according to Mrs. Landingham. He’s in a pissy mood as he is about to start an address to the United Organization of Trout Fishermen. Really.

The administration is in neutral. They are getting nowhere in so many areas of their agenda….and they all know it. To make matters worse, a memo has surfaced written by Mandi when she was working for the opposition. It systematically goes through the weaknesses of the administration and tears apart the senior staff. Mandy is in the doghouse. And Danny has the memo and he’s going to publish it.

To make matters worse, Toby and Sam are sitting down with some armed services staff about the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy they have inherited. Everyone knows that the policy is going nowhere. That’s the way it is in this administration.

The wheels are just spinning. Something has to change. The senior staff are chomping at the bit to actually DO something.

The President and Leo have it out in the oval office. Leo thinks the President drives him to the center, and plays it safe, looking towards a second term. Leo is the hall monitor. Something has to change.

In the end they decide to let Bartlet be Bartlet. The senior staff serves at the pleasure of the president. The staff are off the leash.

West Wing, S1, E18: 6 Meetings before Lunch

2009-07-15T07:46:00.001+04:00

It’s Toby’s day of jubilee – Mendoza is going to be elected today by at least 51 per cent of the Senate – but Toby won’t let anyone celebrate until the 51st vote is cast. Obviously in the last few episodes, Toby and Josh have been working on the confirmation process but we haven’t seen much of it.

But Mallory is going to disturb Sam’s day of Jubilee, she’s upset about a position paper that he has written about school vouchers and she commands his morning to talk about it, Sam is hapless and goes along with it even though it was a paper that was arguing the opposite of what he actually thinks. Mallory (played by Allison Smith) eats her words.

CJ has a great moment in this episode, as she lip synchs “the Jackal” for her colleagues. Allison Janney, as usual, is just great. She spends most of the episode trying to keep a story smothered about a supposed drug dealer that was arrested at a party that Zoey Bartlett was at (she left before he was arrested apparently).

Much of today’s episode is used to frame a discussion Josh has throughout the hour with a black civil rights leader. The young lawyer that Josh wants to appoint to a higher office believes that the US owes financial reparations for descendants of American slaves. It’s a good discourse and well worth listening to, and as it’s been broken up throughout the whole hour, the minutiae is not too much to take in.

Mandy makes a pretty lame appearance here. We know she’s not in the next season and I guess that Sorkin was just trying to find something for her to do – I’m sure she was under contract and so might as well be used. She’s concerned about getting the National Zoo a new panda bear after the last one died. Boring!

West Wing, S1, E17: The White House Pro-Am

2009-07-15T02:56:00.001+04:00

The First Lady is back, and all the tension is between her staff and the President’s senior staff. Are they trying to handle the First Lady? No one handles Abigail Bartlett.

The chair of the Federal Reserve kicks the bucket and a story is leaked out that the First Lady favours one candidate in particular (her ex-boyfriend, no less). The senior staff is pissed – they wanted to control the news cycle. The President wants a day to sort stuff out.

In the meantime Josh and Toby have to court some congress votes for a trade bill that they already have won by 15 seats – but they have to go through the motions. There’s some wonderful writing here, and acting between Richard Schiff and Bradley Whitford. But while Sam is in the gym, he is told by a congresswoman that she is attaching an amendment to the bill, stalling it. In the end, Toby has to bring out his game face and suck up to the senators.

The President finally sits down with Zoey to tell her about the death threats against her. She won’t be able to go to a club opening with Charlie – white supremacists are out for them and the club just doesn’t give the right protection. Charlie gets his back up about it – but a quick talk with Danny convinces him that his job is to make Zoey happy at the moment. Being the first daughter cannot be a cake walk.

Abigail also saves the day by getting the congresswoman to stop her amendment. The episode ends with a rocking, socking dust up between the President and Mrs. Bartlett, right in the Oval office. Abigail and stand up to herself, yes she can!

West Wing, S1, E16: 20 hours in LA

2009-07-15T02:34:00.000+04:00

The President is taking Air Force One out for a spin – the crew is going out to LA for 20 hours to swing through some meetings, townhalls and to do a fundraiser at a Hollywood bigwig’s house. The bigwig is pissed that the government isn’t doing enough for gay rights, and threatens to cancel the $50,000 per couple fundraiser. He dresses down Josh.

On the way, the President meets agent Gina, who will be responsible for Zoey’s security detail. She’s played by Jorja Fox, who went on to be on CSI for years. She’s a good actress and her story ark goes for quite a few episodes.

The main part of this episode is that the team is down to a 50/50 split on an ethanol tax which is suppose to be going through the house. The team tries to break the deadlock in their favour, but they are having trouble doing it. It may have to come down to the Vice President breaking the tie, meaning he would have to go back on several years of his own policy decisions.

After sitting through some mind-numbing meetings about the subject, the president asks if there’s an epidemic of flag-burning throughout the country.

There’s cameos here of David Hasselhoff, Jay Leno, Veronica Webb. Josh, Sam and CJ are approached by movie hacks trying to recruit movie developers. Marlee Matlin is also back here, Josh obviously has a thing for her character Joey Lucas..and she dazzles the senior staff with her interpretation of the latest polling numbers. Obviously Joey Lucas has a future with the President’s people. But maybe not for Josh – he goes to say goodbye to her in her hotel room and finds her just coming out of bed with a cretin. He’s crestfallen.

In the end, the bill doesn’t pass, because the President won’t put the VP in the position to go against his morals. But it means more battles in the future.

A wee break from the West Wing...some recent pics

2009-07-06T03:09:00.009+04:00

WW, S1, E15: Celestial Navigation

2009-07-06T02:06:00.002+04:00

Mendoza has been pulled over in Connecticut for drunk driving when he’s on an antiquing holiday. Funny thing is, he doesn’t drink. He was actually pulled over because he was Hispanic and in Connecticut.

I like this episode because it takes us outside of the normal stalking grounds of the senior staffers. Josh is at a university speaking engagement where he’s telling the audience about the last 24 hours in the White House through flashbacks. Toby and Sam are sent out to Connecticut to pick up Mendoza. We get to se the actors outside of their comfort zones, mixes things up a bit, and we get to see Sam and Toby bicker about the directions to the Connecticut courthouse.

Allison Janney has some lovely comic moments in this episode, after CJ has an emergency root canal. She can’t do an important briefing about a new education bill, so Josh decides to do it. Some of this is quite slapstick. Josh is an unmitigated disaster as the Press Secretary. By the end of it he has told the press that the President has a secret plan to fight inflation, and called one member of the Press stupid for asking if the President still smoked. He gets a serious but amusing dressing down from the President.

“CJ, if blood is gushing from the head wound you just received from a stampeding herd of bison, you do the press briefing.”

Great, great lighting in this episode, especially in the jail cell.

WW, S1, E14: Take this Sabbath Day

2009-07-06T01:27:00.002+04:00

A man’s death sentence has been upheld by the Supreme Court, and it’s up to the President to decide whether or not to commute the sentence. This puts the staffers in a hard situation, and to boot it really ruins their weekend plans. Sam is suppose to go sailing, Josh has a bachelor party, but Sam convinces Josh to come in on a Saturday to take a meeting with someone named Joey who is trying to get a congressman elected.

There are some wonderful comic scenes here between Josh and Donna. Josh spends the night on the floor of his office after a very large night out, and Donna ends up putting him in Sam’s sailing gear, rubber boots and all when Joey Lucas shows up. Joey ends up being a she – played by a wonderful Marlee Matlin.

We also get to know a bit more personal information about Toby in this episode. We see him at temple and trying his best to reconcile his Jewish beliefs with his governmental duties and the restraints of his position.

This episode also gives us a look into the spiritual side of the President. He calls on his priest to help him deal with the emotional consequences of the decision he will have to make. He wrestles with the decision he has to make, whether or not to commute the sentence. Sadly, Karl Malden, an Academy Award winning actor who has died recently, has a nice role here as the President’s priest.

WW, S1, E13: Take Out the Trash Day

2009-07-03T04:45:00.000+04:00

It seems that Fridays are take out the trash day from a PR standpoint. The White House releases all the stories they want buried on a Friday as no one reads the papers on the weekends (do they at all anymore) and there’s only so many column inches that can be filled (and journalists want the weekend off as well).

CJ has to bury a story about the parents of a gay teenager who was killed because of his sexuality. CJ and Mandy are originally worried that the father is quiet because he’s ashamed of his son’s sexuality. After a tense meeting with them, we realize that in fact he’s quiet because he doesn’t think the President is liberal enough and they hate the fact that their son was a second class citizen when it comes to US law. CJ buries it but it eats her up that sometimes it’s her job to do things not in the public interest, but in the political interest of the administration.

The buzzards are circling around Leo. Sam and Josh go to a nasty meeting with some Republicans and they cut a deal to keep a hearing off the table until after the mid-term elections if the White House shelves a sex education report. But one of Leo’s supposed friends is about to publish an op-ed piece that says that Leo should leave. Leo’s really finding out who his friends are, and who aren’t. Donna finds the girl who works in personnel who leaked Leo’s file to the Republicans. Sam fires her, but Leo and her chat and they decide to give each other another chance. Leo’s

This is a quiet episode, but there are a few lovely scenes between Danny and CJ as the chemistry between them continues. It seems that they have been snogging around corners for the whole week. CJ knows it can’t continue. Danny probably knows as well, but he seems a bit less reticent.

WW, S1, E12: He Shall from Time to Time

2009-07-02T07:48:00.000+04:00

It’s State of the Union time, Toby and Sam are writing draft after draft but the President has the flu. He passes out on the floor of the Oval Office. The First Lady diverts away from her trip and heads back to the White House.

India and Pakistan are still at each others’ throats, and Fitzwallace (Head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff) is keeping the President abreast of what’s going on. Lord John Marbury advises the President to buy off the Indians – by helping them to build up their computer infrastructure. He thinks it will work and it’s the price the Americans must pay to be rich, free and alive all at the same time.

And, the story about Leo’s past is on the internet, and so the shit is going to his the fan tomorrow. Him and CJ are going to put together a statement and talk to the Press pre-emptively.

It’s a busy evening.

When the First Lady gets back into the White House we realize that this First Lady is something else. It appears that on top of being just a wonderful person, she is also an accomplished doctor, as she tends to her husband. But why and what is she injecting the President with?

Leo smells that something is going on and corners the First Lady. Her running back to the White House for just the flu isn’t right. So what is going on? We get a bombshell. The President has MS. Stockard Channing in this scene is magnificent. She looks terrified as she finally admits what she kept from everyone for so long.

Leo and the President have a very touching moment, admitting what they really feel about each other – what they mean to each other.

In salacious news, Mallory walks up to Sam and kisses him passionately when she finds out that Sam wrote a wonderful press release on behalf of the President in support of her father. CJ sees it and decides she can’t keep her hands off of Danny. She invites him to her office and kisses him passionately. Yay! Finally! But is it right for the Press Secretary to be fraternizing with a journalist? Who cares?

WW, S1, E11: Lord John Marbury

2009-07-02T01:09:00.001+04:00

India and Pakistan are on the verge of war. The Indians have done an incursion into Pakistan-held Kashmir territory, and the two sides line up for all out war.

This episode, for the first time really in the show, we start to see the influence the Presidency has outside the United States. The President starts a round of diplomacy and calls into the White House the Chinese ambassador, and the Indian and Pakistani ambassadors. Toby keeps CJ out of the loop, which in turn makes her look like an idiot in front of the press. He also calls into question her distance from the press, she seems to be too close to some journalists (ie, Danny Concannon). He knows he has gone too far. His apology to CJ is quite lovely.

The President calls in Lord John Marbury to advise. Leo hates him but the President finds him insightful. Played by a wonderful Roger Rees, Marbury is an awful snob and obviously a loose canon. He offers good comic relief to a fairly serious episode.

And Josh is subpoenaed by an organization looking to get the down and dirty on the drug use in the White House (yes, this is still on going). Josh blows the disposition, and Josh, Sam and Leo realize that the lid about to be blown off of Leo’s passed pill use. It’s going to hit the papers imminently.

In other news, Zoey asks Charlie out on a date. He in turn asks the President’s permission, which is granted.

WW, S1, E10: In Excelsis Deo

2009-07-02T00:47:00.002+04:00

Whoever edited this Christmas episode should have won an Emmy for it. It’s amazing. I cried and cried and cried.

CJ and Danny are still dancing around each other, comparing notes why they should and or shouldn’t go out together. In the end, CJ can’t take it anymore and asks Danny out. And Leo knows that their enemies are coming for them via his past pill addiction. However – the real heart of this episode is Toby.

Toby is called by the DC police to go down to the Korean monument where a homeless man has died on a bench out in the open. It turns out that he was called because his card was in the pocket of the homeless man when he died – Toby figures out that the jacket was his – the man had got it from the Goodwill – and Toby had left his card in the pocket by accident.

Any normal person would leave it at that, but Toby realizes that the man has a tattoo that distinguishes him as previously having been in the navy. Like a dog to the bone, Toby won’t give up until he figures out this guy’s story. He wants to bring him the dignity he deserves. He uses the president’s name to get an honour guard at Arlington National Cemetery. He and Mrs. Landingham (who we learn in a lovely scene with Charlie lost her twin boys in Vietnam) go to the funeral.
The way this scene has been shot and edited is amazing. Set to the backdrop of a choir singing in the White House foyer, the rituals, traditions and imagery of the funeral is really very affecting.

WW, S1, E9: The Short List

2009-07-01T05:46:00.001+04:00

This is a really interesting episode. It walks the viewers through the process of filing a seat on the United States Supreme Court. Why? Well, the episode starts off with Josh and CJ confirming an old white guy – Judge Harrison – as the administration’s nominee. But the episode ends with the President dumping him because of a paper he wrote over 25 years before which buts into doubt his support of privacy as it stands in the Constitution.

So what does this have to do with now? Well, the guy who replaces Harrison, a judge called Mendoza, is Hispanic. In West Wing world, this is a first. In the real word, this is happening right now. Obama has nominated Sonia Sotomoyer to the bench – and she is the first Hispanic in the real world to be nominated, and one of only a few women. Talk about parallel universes. It only took the real world about 10 years to catch up to the West Wing world.

In other moments from his episode, a congressman has gone public saying that members of the administration take drugs. It’s come out of left field and no one can understand where the accusation has come from until Josh thinks it through. When Josh talks to him about it, Leo confirms that he’s a recovering alcoholic and, in fact, he has a history with pills as well and spent time in rehab. Someone is after Leo.

Danny is still pursuing CJ relentlessly for a date. Josh mentions to him that CJ likes goldfish. In a really lovely moment Danny walks into CJ’s office with a real live goldfish in a bowl, when it turns out that CJ likes the goldfish crackers. CJ loves the live goldfish – although Danny is mortified. When CJ gives him a kiss on the cheek for thanks, Danny looks like his heart has exploded. It’s just a gorgeous moment.

WW S1, E8: Enemies

2009-06-29T22:58:00.001+04:00

The rocky relationship between VP Hoynes and the West Wing staff continues on its bad path when Hoynes takes it upon himself to start the cabinet meeting without the President. The President doesn’t like this so much, and he dresses down Hoynes in front of the whole cabinet. Hoynes looks like he could kill the president. They have it out in the Oval Office at the end of the episode.

The bad blood seems to go back to when they were campaigning and the VP made the President beg to be his running mate because Hoynes could bring him the South. “You shouldn’t have made me beg, John” says the President. This rivalry runs deep.

Danny Concannon hears about it and asks CJ and corners the Vice President about it. Timothy Busfield is very good in this episode. His perusal of CJ is sweet, in a very witty way. CJ accuses the VP of the leak, and he takes her to task.

Sam and Toby are having a hard time “locating our talent” – their writing is a bit flat. To keep him away from his daughter Mallory, Leo asks Sam to write a birthday card for the assistant secretary of someone. Sam takes to it with gusto. And in the meantime he finds his talent.

This is an all-over-the-place episode. I think it’s a determined effort to lighten the load after some fairly serious episodes lately.

Josh, however, realizes that the administration has a lot more enemies these days and they talk about them more than they used to - he mentions it to the President. The administration is making them. Is there a way not to? A battle is brewing.

West Wing, S1 E7: The State Dinner

2009-06-29T09:51:00.001+04:00

This is the first episode of this season that makes me sob. The White House is having a state dinner for the President of Indonesia, and some American navy ships are stuck in the middle of it. The President gets in touch with one of the seamen in the communications room of the smallest, supply ship, and the episode ends with the President vowing he won’t hang up until the line is inevitably cut. It’s a poignant, sad moment and I’m not ashamed of my tears.

Oh yes, and the Teamsters are going to go on strike. Food distribution across the country is going to decend into chaos. Toby again shoots himself in the foot. The speech that he wrote insulted the Indonesian President publically and because of it the Indonesian President’s aid doesn’t feel like doing him a favour by releasing a friend of his being held in an Indonesian jail. And Mandy thinks she knows best about how to handle a siege situation where a militia is holding up with women and children and saying they won’t come out without a fight. She gets burned. Badly. Can she play with the big boys?

Danny Concannon, the journalist, puts CJ on a wild goose tray about some piddly protesters who are across the street from the White House protesting the use of vermeil. He does it to flirt mostly, and he does it so well. You can CJ not believing that it’s happening but she’s enjoying it – against her better judgment mind you.

We meet with First Lady for the first time, at the State dinner. Stockard Channing is a classy broad. Oh yes, and Sam’s call girl is a date for one of the Democratic schmoozers at the State Dinner. That doesn’t end well either.

WW S1, E6: Mr. Willis of Ohio

2009-06-29T09:33:00.000+04:00

Did you know that there’s only three words in the English language which start with dw? Name them. Dwindle, dwarf and dwell. Just some of the inane trivia the President likes to bore his poker buddies with. Can you name the 14 punctuation marks used in the English language? Chew on that one.

I like this episode because CJ is totally clueless about why the census is important. In fact, Sam is the only person on the senior staff besides Leo who seems to know why it is important.

This is the first episode we meet Ron Butterfield, who is the head of the President’s Secret Service detail. He is played by Michael O’Neil, who is a fantastic actor. We’ll see a lot more of him in later seasons. But at this point, I’m just glad to see him.

The Mr. Willis in the title of his episode is a congressman who has taken the place of his now deceased wife. He has a wonderful moment with Toby, who really exploits him to get his way and get the bill passed, but we soon learn that Mr. Willis is not the rube he comes across as. In return, Toby is enriched by this gentle, kind man, and reinforces to Toby why he does the work he does.

The President wants Josh to take Charlie out for a beer tonight. And Mallory – Leo’s daughter – and Zoey want to come as well. In the end, and as a sample of things to come, Zoey is harassed at the bar by a bunch of guys, and Charlie is really the only one of the men who notices until things had spiraled out of control. The Secret Service are called in and drag the thugs away.

Leo finally tells the President that him and his wife have separated. The President takes it hard and tells him to fix it before taking it back the next day.

I have to admit that although I like this episode, it’s clear that through the dialogue between Sam and CJ that Aaron Sorkin is trying to teach his American audience the importance of such mundane things as the census. Hey, I learned a thing or two.

WW S1, E5: The Crackpots and These Women

2009-06-29T01:14:00.001+04:00

The episode opens with the male staff members playing a game of pick up basketball. In the end, the President brings in a ringer, a former MVP who played in the Final Four for Duke.

Today is the day that the staff is being told to throw open their office doors to ‘the crackpots’ – members and parts of the public service who rarely get heard by the White House. Sam meets with someone from Space Command who is worried about the lack of White House attention on UFOs. CJ meets with some environmentalists who want to build a highway to Alaska only for wildlife.

Josh is then given a card by that tells him where to go in the event of a nuclear attack. He’s been chosen as one of the few who would survive. It throws him off. What about his staff? His friends? How could he possibly leave them behind. (It doesn’t seem to occur to him that the likelihood of such an occurrence is very unlikely. He makes a panicked visit to his shrink for the first time in 10 months – a man with dreamcatchers on office window.

We learn that Josh’s sister died in a house fire when he was younger – and he was there when it happened. It’s something that has obviously greatly shaped his life.

He hands back his card to the president. He wants to be with his friends if the bomb hits.

Elisabeth Moss makes her first appearance in the show, as the President’s youngest daughter Zoey. Charlie meets her for the first time too. God she looks young here. She practically grows up in this show. And as we know she has gone on to star in the very good Mad Men. This is where she earned her chops. Can you imagine being a teen and getting to act with Martin Sheen and the rest of this great cast? Talk about an acting slam dunk.

WW S1, E4: 5 Votes Down

2009-06-29T00:51:00.002+04:00

The president is speaking at a fundraiser before a huge poster that proclaims “practical idealism.” What a concept.

The staff have lost 5 votes for a bill they need to get passed in 48 hours. As Leo says, ‘there’s two things in life you never want people to see how you make them – laws and sausages.’ They have to bring in the Vice President to get one of the votes back in their favour but Leo is resisting. In the meantime, Josh is breaking balls with congressmen to get them in line.

Toby is in a bind when they are releasing financial disclosure paperwork about the staff and he finds out that the one stock he owns increased 1000% after a friend of his who ran the company testified in front of congress. He’s so, completely screwed.

Leo arrives home late to his wife waiting with her bags packed – she’s had enough being a politician’s’ widow. So, he goes back to work after she leaves, to see the Vice President. Once Leo tells him that his wife has left him, the VP asks when the last time Leo has been to “a meeting.” This is first reference in the series to Leo’s alcoholism past.

The president makes a brief, funny appearance in the Oval Office. He’s obviously high on back pain pills. Martin Sheen is great in this scene, and is obviously having a lot of fun. Toby’s face when the President hugs him is priceless.

In the end, the Vice President takes all the credit for the bill passing, but Leo thinks they deserve it. Josh visits the VP to let him know he isn’t impressed with how things shook down, but the VP lets him know that he’s playing in the big leagues now.

The show ends with Leo visiting a secret AA meeting just for high profile members of the government. Heartbreaking.

WW S1, E3: A Proportional Response

2009-06-28T08:11:00.001+04:00

CJ has found out Sam’s indiscretion with the call girl and she’s furious. She feels it’s her job to protect the staff and she can’t do it if she doesn’t know what’s going on. Her and Josh have a classic spat. Josh calls her a paranoid Berkley shista-feminista. CJ calls him elitist, Harvard facist, missed-the-Deans-list-two-semesters-in-a-row Yankee jackass. But really, they do love each other.

In the meantime, the President is on the war path, literally. He is chomping at the bit to drop bombs on the terrorist who killed his personal physician. He’s even snapping at his cherished secretary Mrs. Landingham. He’s not impressed with the retaliatory options that his security people have given him – not a lot of civilian casualties, striking easy, proportional targets. He screams at them to come up with something real, something vengeful. In the end though, we know that he will do the right thing.

The focus on military issues means that Josh’s regular political issues are sidelined. He doesn’t have a lot to do.
CJ and Sam really go at it when he visits her office at her request to talk about the call girl situation. Sam gets all defensive. CJ takes none of it.

In this episode we also meet Charlie for the first time, who is destined to become the President’s body man – personal aid to the president. He applied for a messenger’s job as he needs to take care of his sister after his mother was killed in the line of duty. Josh sees something special in him. He’s a great addition to the cast.

We also meet Danny (Timothy Busfield) for the first time in this episode. He plays a very well connected White House journalist who knows about Sam’s indiscretions. The chemistry between him and CJ is crackling already this early episode.

WW S1, E2: Post Hoc, Ergo Propter Hoc

2009-06-28T08:10:00.001+04:00

I think Moira Kelly, who plays Mandy in this season, is possibly a good actress, but God is she annoying. Am I’m someone who is all for strong, smart, bossy women on television. She drives around DC her in stupid Beemer, jumping curbs, getting all in the face of Congressmen.

Josh is drinking from the keg of glory, while Donna gets him the finest muffins and bagels in all the land. He has squashed Mandi’s boyfriends’ attempts to be the next president. Josh is ecstatic. He also thinks that they need a new media director. Enter Mandy! Josh, her ex-boyfriend, is no longer ecstatic.

CJ has a dust up with the Vice President about his attitude….and it’s a doozy. No one puts CJ Cregg in the corner!

Josh practically spits out his coffee when Sam tells him he slept with the call girl. Toby just stare at him and asks him if when he says that he “accidentally” slept with a call girl, did it mean he tripped over something? Priceless. Sam still can’t keep away from her though, he seeks her out and pulls her off one of her paying dates.

Leo takes Vice President Hoynes to task for blowing off CJ. He plays hardball with an arrogant, ugly Vice President and tells him if he continues on the path he is, he’ll end up playing celebrity golf for the rest of his life.

There’s a serious end to the episode when Leo has to tell the President that his personal physician has been killed in a terrorist attack in Jordan. The President takes it hard. He promises to blow the terrorists off the Earth with the fury of God’s own thunder.

West Wing, Series 1, Episode 1 - Pilot.

2009-06-27T05:09:00.001+04:00

The series opens when we meet Sam Seaborn for the first time in a bar, talking to a journalist and making it clear that Josh is not going to be fired. It’s a shame that Rob Lowe left the series after a few years. He is perfect for Sam. Clean-faced, whip-smart. And funny. One the best thing about the West Wing is the humour.

We also meet Leo McGarry. I was so sad when I heard that John Spencer had died just before the end of the series. After seven years as Leo, he WAS that role. And is there a better actress than Allison Janney? Gosh, she is great, talented in so many ways and she commands as Press Secretary CJ Cregg. In her first scene we experience her great physical humour, as she tries to pick up a man running next to her when she falls off her treadmill while reading her pager. Janney’s since gone on to Broadway where she is playing a role in the musical 9 to 5. She is not only a talented dramatic actor, she has perfect, wry comic timing and talent.

The walking and talking in the show used to drive people nuts, but I love it. Having worked in television for years, many of the best conversations of my career were had walking down corridors to or from editing, our offices, the studio, the master control. It’s how work is done.

Apparently the character of Josh Lyman was based on Rahm Emanuel, President Obama’s current Chief of Staff. If you’ve ever seen an interview with Emanuel, it makes perfect sense. I laugh with glee when Josh tells a crazy right wing cow that he’s sharing the stage with on a television show that her god is too busy being indicted for tax fraud to care if she’s praying to him. We aren’t sure if he’ll keep his job as Deputy Chief of Staff. We also meet Janel Moloney here, playing Donna Moss, Josh’s assistant, who is often cast in Aaron Sorkin dramas. She is consistently under-rated. Her wit is dry, her timing is perfect and her chemistry with Josh is crackling.

Richard Schiff is so, so good as brilliant, curmudgeonly communications head Toby Ziegler. He breathes the role. I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten more work since the end of the series – it’s a shame.

In the end, the President (Martin Sheen) kicks the right wing religious zealots who had come in to accept an apology from Josh out of the White House because some nut jobs had sent his granddaughter a doll with a knife through its throat (it’s a good thing, Toby was about to kill them with his own hands after one of them says an anti-Semitic statement). Sam gets his pager back from the call girl he accidentally slept with last night after meeting her at the bar. The president tells his staff to get back to work, because they’ve been spending too much time on non-important things. Oh yes, and Josh gets to keep his job, and we are all the better for it.

One of the best things about the West Wing is its endearing idealism. These characters go into work each day sincerely wanting to make their country a better place. This series probably taught most Americans most of what they know about their government and legislative process. The show never talks down to his audience, it expects more from its audience than anything that is on television today. It forces the audience to rise up and meet it. When’s the last time you watched a show that did that?

The TV Gods are angry with us.

2009-06-27T04:16:00.002+04:00

I mourn the loss of good television. Gosh it’s amazing the amount of crud that is on television these days. I am sad to say that I have been responsible for small parts in some of that bad television, but hey, the money was good and whether I participated or not didn't affect the outcome, that's for sure.

Instead of striving for good, honest, humanist drama, we are left with the dredges of society. Vapid people who hunger for fame first, riches maybe a tight second.

I miss good television. Well-written drama can provide amazing insight into what it means to be human, why we live the way we do, why we are structured the way we are. The West Wing was one of those dramas. I doubt that there has been a better first season for any drama in the history of television. Even at its worst, the West Wing beat the crap out of almost anything else on tv at the time.

In an effort to escape the absolute toddle that fills my screen, I will be spending the summer systematically watching the West Wing, from season one, episode one, all the way to the series’ very sad end. And I’m going to try to blog about it as much as I can (don’t throw this in my face if I falter). Come along with me for the ride. It can be no worse than the crap on TV at the moment. In fact, I’m sure it will be a hell of a lot better.

DC

2009-05-23T20:17:00.006+04:00

Vietnam memorial

NY NY

2009-05-19T05:33:00.010+04:00

You know this place.

The UN General Assembly! We got to go inside!

The remnants of the best damn hamburger of my life. Yes, it was that good. Am I going to tell you where you can find it? Not a chance. Don't worry though, I threw out the wrapper responsibly. Brooklyn Bridge

Went all the way there to find it was closed for the day. Ah well, pretty building nevertheless.

2009-04-25T03:24:00.001+04:00

Great headline on the Vancouver Sun website today:

B.C. couple caught having sex in dumpster

Don’t bother knocking if the dumpster is rocking

Essential albums

2009-04-19T10:34:00.004+04:00

I had the occasion last week to finally take my new little car out for a serious drive. I’m not talking on highways and byways, I’m talking about winding, twisting roads through virgin rainforests and mountain passes, where you can feel the pull of the road on the cornering. Gosh I love driving these roads. It’s such a treat and pleasure to take a serious, intense drive. Add some good tunes and you’ve got something sublime.

I pulled out some good old Canadianna on this drive, stuff I hadn’t heard in years. After years of not listening to it, I finally pulled out one of my very favourite albums, The Tragically Hip’s Day for Night.

I’m sure all the non-Canadians reading this are saying “who?” Well, suffice to say that The Tragically Hip are Canada’s Rolling Stones or Bee Gees. They are part of the Canadian culture and lexicon, absolute icons in our country. They originally went very large with Fully Completely, which is chock full of every Canadian reference you can think of, from the vastness of the prairies to ingrained hockey references. It was the album to have in my last year of high school – very trendy. I thought it was okay but never thought it was amazing.

Then Day for Night was released and suddenly I was a convert. There is just something about this album that stays with you. It’s relentless. The bass is dark, deep, menacing, pulsating and never-ending. From song to song, a profound sense of unease permeates every note, every phrase. It’s catchy, disturbing and so full of hooks and changes that it’s ultimately a very frustrating album as well. Nothing is ever answered, nothing is ever complete. At the moment you think you have a handle on things; you suddenly realize that you have a handle on nothing at all.

One of the creative pushes for this album came from the 60th anniversary of the end of the first World War, and it’s evident in every song, every phrase. Some of the imagery conjured is downright frightening. In “Nautical Disaster,” a man recollects a dream he had – is it shellshock or just a bad dream?

One afternoon, four thousand men died in the water here

Five hundred more were thrashing madly as parasites might in your blood

Now I was in lifeboat designed for ten and ten and only,

Anything that systematic would get you hated.

In “Scared,” we evesdrop into the conversation of a menacing predator.

I can make you scared if I want me to

I'm not prepared, but if I have to

He said I can make you scared

It's kinda what I do

If you are prepared to

Here is what I propose to do

You’re in Russia

And more than a million works of art

Are wisked out to the woods

When the Nazis find the whole place dark

They'd think god's

Left the museum for good

Each song on this album brings it. Not one song is weak, they flow into each other, relentless like the tide. My favourites are “Scared,” “Nautical Disaster,” “Titantic Terrarium,” and “Grace, Too.” But honestly, each song is excellent.

This is a timeless, precious album. It is as fresh as it was when it was released 15 years ago. Gord Downie’s lyrics are so much more than just lyrics; the music is built around his poetry, and intertwines with it for a finished, complex and ultimately very satisfying product. It’s music to ponder and contemplate by and every listening reveals a new way of exploring and experiencing it. It is all so comfortable but also so unsettling all at the same time.

If you don’t have this album, you really should buy it.

You can't beat Vancouver on a sunny day

2009-03-30T02:57:00.004+04:00

Turtles and ducks sunbathing in harmony.

2009-03-27T09:14:00.001+04:00

Oh oh oh! The Times has published the 50 best food blogs going at the moment.

At #1? My beloved Orangette. Plus, several others of my favourites are nominated.

Check it out here.

2009-03-26T00:12:00.003+04:00

I went to the gym last night for the first time in 2 weeks. The flu just kicked the crap out of me, and then it took my appetite, so it wasn't until Monday of this week that I felt good enough to go to the gym. One hour pump class. It was packed. I managed to do most of my usual weights on the tracks, but my right shoulder was giving me problems at the end. Doesn't surprise me, my right shoulder is always a mess.

Curling tonight, pump tomorrow and am hoping for a step class on the weekend. That should get me up to speed.

2009-03-18T02:13:00.001+04:00

I don't know about anyone else out there, but I'm so over Twitter. I've never done it, never seen in, have no interest in it. Maybe I'm getting old. Maybe I'm out of the mainstream when it comes to technology but really, I couldn't give a flying fart what celebrities, has-beens, nobodies and anyone in between have to say on any given subject in less than 140 characters. Honestly.

2009-03-13T09:21:00.002+04:00

I am sick. I am achey, nasty, creaky, sniffly, kill-me-now-I-should-have-had-the-flu-shot sick. It ain't pretty. The achey has settled well into my pelvis and my skin is so sensitive that I can barely take the feel of sheets on my skin. I haven't been this sick in more than 10 years.

It came on so quickly. I did a step class on Monday night and felt just great. Had a glass of wine that night and then bam! Tuesday morning I was a goner.

2009-02-21T21:23:00.002+04:00

Can I do a shout out to my amazing friends? I've been having a bit of a rough week and my friends have been so supportive, so wry and funny and...well...just awesome. I'm a lucky gal.

Some pics from the last couple of months

2009-02-09T09:44:00.003+04:00

2009-02-06T20:56:00.000+04:00

Fina Flichman Misterio Malbec 2007 (ARG)

2009-01-31T09:30:00.003+04:00

This is a nice, soft easy going wine. For a wine that's only a year old, it's very mellow and gentle, with a light, easy taste rolling across your tongue. There's not an overwhelming taste, maybe a bit of plum, but it has a nice, uncomplicated aftertaste. It's been aged four months in oak casks, so there's just a hint of the wood in it. Nothing about this will bamboozle you, but if you're looking for a quaffing wine with some red meat or pasta, this will be a good match. It also goes well with Chinese food - I know this for a fact. It's a good deal for $13.99 and it's available at BC liquor stores.

A good week

2009-01-23T01:43:00.004+04:00

Gosh, has it really been that long since I have written?

Today is the 36th anniversary of Roe vs. Wade. And it comes 2 days after Obama's inauguration.
It is a good week.

Once

2009-01-06T22:35:00.003+04:00

Once has been on my radar for a while now. I’ve heard that it was a lovely, beguiling film. This week I finally got around to renting it. I don’t know why it’s taken me to long to do so. I’ve been in such a mood when renting DVDs that I have been going for the easy, non-complicated stuff for a while. Then, this week, the mood suddenly grabbed me and I decided that it was time to pick it up.

I am glad I did. The movie is indeed beguiling and modest, and comfortable like those old sweatpants you wear when you’re at home and need to be relaxed. The premise is simple, it tells the story of a vacuum repair guy who busks on the streets of Dublin. Then along comes a woman – an Eastern European immigrant - who becomes friends with the busker over their shared love of music. The two spend a few weeks together, learning about each other and creating music.

The movie was shot throughout Dublin on a very tight budget. Often the street scenes were shot without permits and with very long lenses, allowing the inexperienced actors to behave more naturally. The busker is played by Glen Hansard – lead singer of The Frames, and the girl is played by Markéta Irglová, also an accomplished musician. This is the first film for both. These two musicians also composed most of the music in the film, one song of which won the Oscar for best song.

This is a subtle, gentle movie about the chemistry between people and what attracts people to each other. It is also an uncompromising look at how the relationships between young people these days live and die, and the unanswered questions which are generated out of each encounter. The filmmaker doesn’t take the easy road. It’s beautiful. It’s uplifting.

Patty Griffin - just buy it already

2009-01-06T02:53:00.003+04:00

If you haven't listened to Patty Griffin yet after all my encouragement, watch this and pick up Children Running Through. I've been listening to this CD for over a year and I still can't get enough of it.

Twilight trailer

2009-01-05T08:57:00.002+04:00

2009-01-03T22:54:00.004+04:00

A lot of trash talk has been written about Twilight, the blockbusting vampire teen romance released in November. It’s been called vapid, an advertisement for the religious right, stupid, clunky and any number of other horrible things – mostly by white old men reviewers who can’t remember their teenage years or have purposefully blocked them out altogether.

I decided that I would go see the movie before it was released. I don’t know why, it just seemed to be something that I would be interested in. It’s filmed in my part of the world, and I thought that it would be great to see this very atmospheric, sensual part of the planet on the big screen where it can be experienced properly. I didn’t get around to seeing the movie until this week though. I didn’t want to have to deal with tons of screaming young girls in the theatre.

Most of the crap talk about Twilight is dead wrong. Yes, it’s not a significant piece of cinema. It’s not going to win any awards. It’s not for everyone. However, it is a well-made, well-acted film about being young and falling in love. Robert Pattinson stars as a teenage vampire called Edward, and his romantic interest Bella is played by Kristen Stewart. Bella has just moved to Washington state to live with her father and meets Edward at her new high school. They connect. She figures out Edward is a vampire, they work it out. In the end, of course Edward and his family of fellow vampires save Bella’s blood from being drunk by another predator vampire. It all ends up well.

It’s not a bad movie. Mostly this is because Pattinson and Stewart are both really good actors and bring real conviction to their characters. The movie doesn’t talk down to its audience but it also doesn’t pretend to be anything more than it is – a good teen flick. The special affects are pretty crappy but the cinematography of the North West corner of North America is really beautiful and is almost its own character.

Don’t believe the hype. Twilight is a solid, engaging, entertaining flick worth seeing on the big screen.

I want to be Tina Fey

2009-01-02T10:09:00.003+04:00

I sort of missed the Tina Fey bandwagon this year. It takes a while for things to filter down to Australia and in India I might has well had been on another planet I was so far out of the mainstream. So, it’s taken until now for me to bother looking into this savant of comedy and impressions. I’m sorry it has taken so long.

Fey is, without a doubt, a real talent. This is cuttingly intelligent, shrewd and just extremely funny comedy. I have been trolling through the back catalogue of her show 30 Rock which is in its second season I believe. Fey plays Liz Lemon, an executive producer of NBC’s The Girly Show. The show follows her daily life as she battles her stars (the brilliant Jane Krakowski and Tracy Jordan), her writers (Judah Friedlander and Keith Powell) and her overbearing, off-kilter boss played by Alec Baldwin, in a role which was made for him. 30 Rock is not only funny, it mercilessly satirizes the American television business and the show’s owner NBC. Fey is the star, writer and executive producer of 30 Rock. That, along with her spot-on impression of Sarah Palin and her hit movie Babymoma this year has put her to the forefront of the US’s entertainment industry, something she greatly deserves.

New Years

2009-01-02T00:26:00.003+04:00

Blah. Not for me.

I went to bed at 11 pm and slept for 11 hours. Yes, 11 hours. It was bliss. Bring on 2009 I say.

Happy New Years to all my readers, I hope this post finds you loved and happy.

Geek Love take 2

2008-12-27T09:19:00.004+04:00

Those of you who have been reading for a while will remember that I tend to carry minor torches for geeks. I mean real geeks. John Safran has been one of my geek crushes. He remains one, albeit from more of a distance these days.

However, John has been joined by Matthew Gray Gubler, of Criminal Minds. Yes, I know it's only a semi-decent TV series. I know he's an actor. I even know that he might be good looking in real life as he's a model. But his character in Criminal Minds is pure geekiness. Love it!

Give me strength

2008-12-24T02:08:00.005+04:00

Doing some last minute shopping today, and I stopped by Canadian Tire to pick up a joke gift for my secret Santa person. I had already bought a decently priced gift card for them already, and wanted to get a joke gift to lighten the mood.

Can you freaking believe that Canadian Tire had sold out of hundreds of Chia Pets? Chia Pets! My god, do people actually buy these things seriously, as in something they would want to give to someone sincerely? You have got to be joking. They are the tackiest, silliest things ever invented....and they are sold out! Dear lord, please help me.

2008-12-21T22:48:00.007+04:00

It's a Sunday morning and it's snowed perhaps 10 cm overnight and it has just started up again with gusto - perhaps another 10-15 cm in it so the forecasters say. It's beautiful. I am curled up on the couch, slippers on, and am enjoying a wonderful cup of tea after a breakfast of grilled cheese. Micheal Enright and the Sunday Edition are keeping me company. Lovely.

I am losing my hair. There I said it. It's been happening for the last three weeks - maybe a month. For a while I thought that I was just noticing it on the floor more as I have hard wood floors now - and it's hard to miss my long brunette hair when it falls out and lands on the ground and gathers in dusty heaps in the nooks and crannies of my home. However, I knew that it was more than just normal shedding when it started to come out last week in almost literally clumps. It clogs my drains and builds up on clothes. It's distressing to say the least. I would estimate that I have lost about 30-40% of my total hair at the moment. Luckily it is coming off evenly across my head, so it may not be noticeable to the naked eye yet.

Yes, don't worry, I have been to the doctor - went just yesterday actually. He believes that it's my body's reaction to the trauma of my giardia and intense weight loss when I was in India a few months ago. Often it takes a few months after a trauma for this to happen. He assures me that I will not go bald. That's good. Apparently your hair follicles can go dormant and shed for a while after a trauma and then after a time they will regenerate. Usually you're back to your normal head of hair within a year or so. There's nothing I can do but patiently clean out my drain every day and studiously ignore the end of my brush after I have finished combing my hair. I am vacuuming every day to get the evidence out of my eyesight.

Patience. Something I'm not good at.

Winter Wonderland

2008-12-18T01:15:00.007+04:00

Vancouver is known for its mild climate in compared to the rest of the country. However, we've been experiencing much colder temperatures than usual the last few days - well below the zero mark Celsius. And today we've been hit with a much bigger snow storm than was forecasted.

These gorgeous shots were taken by my friend Sheri on a walk earlier today. Pretty, but I'm not looking forward to my commute home!

2008-12-16T02:57:00.004+04:00

Roger Ebert, the legendary film critic, has been doing amazing, touching work lately. Ebert has been facing his salivary gland cancer which had spread to his jaw head-on, and writing about it with gentle humour and real, iron-strong dignity. If you have a few minutes, it's really worth a read. Since his sickness, Ebert's writing had shined with clarity, humour and compassion. He's writing really amazing stuff these days, and not just about movies.

Also, for those of you who have not seen Magnolia yet, his recent "Great Movies" review will compel you to pick it up.

Aresti Carmenere 2005 Estate Selection (CH)

2008-12-06T08:31:00.001+04:00

This might become my next regular drinking wine. It’s a well balanced red, not too jammy or pucker-ish. It’s an easy-drinking red, with no real distinct flavour to reach up and grab you except a slight licorice scent that lingers. The screw top means that the wine will last for a few days on your countertop before it gets too much air. At $16.99 at specialty wine shops, it’s a good deal.

2008-11-25T06:27:00.001+04:00

I took a little walk this weekend at one of my favourite places in the world.

Dona Paula Los Cardos Syrah 2006 (ARG)

2008-11-18T06:34:00.006+04:00

This syrah is a nice, light red compared to its Australian shiraz counterparts. It initially leaves a tartness on the top of the mouth but a few minutes of airing smooths out the rough. Not too much of a nose bouquet but tasting reveals blueberries, a hint of stawberry. An easy-drinking quaffing wine that will go with a variety of meals - a nice pasta sauce, chilli con carne, some red meat, but probably not a heavy hitter to go with roast beef or lamb.

My receipt was blotted out by water, but I believe it's about $16.99. Good value.

I hurt

2008-11-11T22:45:00.004+04:00

Now that I've got a bit of time on my hands after finishing that pesky degree, I've set up a quest for the next year to try as many new things as possible. New sports, new experiences...whatever comes my way I want to try it. Time to get out of the shell, to get out there, to enjoy my free time.

The following of this quest last night led me to try cardio kickboxing for the first time. You know, I lift quite a bit of weights, I do some cardio, I do this strange blend of yoga and pilates. I thought I was pretty fit. Cardio kickboxing is a whole other level. I hurt. Tomorrow, it' s uncertain if I will be able to get out of bed. And I think I've pulled a muscle in my groin. The instructor was not very good though, no set up of the moves. I think she was making it up as she went along, so that was a bit disappointing. But I will probably return. I need more cardio in my life.

2008-11-10T03:31:00.002+04:00

I've been um-ing and ah-ing over what I'm going to do about this blog. The raison d'etre for this little ditty has been my travel journals, someplace to let my family know that I'm still alive where ever I might be in the world.

For the next 18 months, however, I am going to be relatively stable back in my hometown, so the reason for the blog is no longer. Of course I have other interests that I can blog about. Wine, food, reading, politics - they all take up a bit of my heart, but since they have not really been the focus of my blogging, I'm not sure how it will evolve.

So, regular readers, please be patient while this blog evolves organically into something else. What that else is - or if it will even exist at all - I'm not sure yet.

Anyone got any thoughts?

2008-11-05T03:47:00.000+04:00

"[Obama] would be the guy the jocks didn't choose to towel-snap, but he would kind of stand there looking disapproving while they towel-snapped. Whereas McCain would be more likely to towel-snap you, and Sarah Palin would make out with the guy who towel-snapped you."
-Benjamin Nugent, author of American Nerd: The Story of My People.

Some final India thoughts

2008-11-03T02:52:00.000+04:00

Since I’ve been back at home for the last month, I’ve been reluctant to write my final thoughts on India. It would be quite easy for me to go on about how much of a cheap, great destination it is. I could talk about the monuments, the train system, the weather, the people and the food. I could opine on the backpacker culture and spiritualism and finding my inner yogi. I could do all of those things, but I wouldn’t be getting to the core of my impressions of India.

More than anything else, my time in India has left me with a profound sense of frustration. I have just completed a higher degree in international politics, and so it is impossible for me not to see India through the paradigm of my studies. What has struck me most about India is the almost complete disregard of the upper elites of India has for the profound and humiliating poverty of the majority of its people. The poverty in India is striking. The health care for almost everyone is nearly non-existent. Simple civil duties like the provision of fresh water, a sewage system and garbage pick up does not happen. It’s nearly impossible to get any service from civil government such as a post office box or other services without issuing a bribe to a fat, greedy member of government. The Indian people deserve better.

Ignore most of what you hear about India being the next big player in the world. Sure, a billion people is a big market for foreign companies to sell to, and perhaps there are enough Indians who are reaching into the middle class to provide that market, but the reality is that most of India’s people live in rural countryside, where they are hampered by bad health care, horrible infrastructure and hygiene conditions that make medical issues worse.

More than anything else, the Indian people should be overwhelmingly angry with the state of their country. Why is India spending millions of dollars sending rockets to the moon when over 80% of its people live on less than two dollars per day? Why are they increasing the instability of the region by building nuclear arms when the caste system, educational system and gender bias cripples its national economy? It seemed to me, as I saw people defecating on the side of the railway tracks like they do every morning, that the Indian people deserve much better than what they are getting.

The most frustrating thing I find about India is that India has it within itself to change these horrible parts about their country. They have the natural resources to exploit. They have the human resources to become extremely competitive internationally. They have the tax base to fund great infrastructure projects to develop and diversify their economy and thus pull people out of poverty. India has all the opportunity to make sure that every woman, child and man gets a good education, access to healthcare and a bright future. But this is not happening. The country is too rooted in its caste system, its gender bias, its anger at its past subjugation, its war with Pakistan and has too many absolutely corrupt politicians for any serious change to happen soon. And the only people that are responsible for this, more than 55 years after the end of colonialism in the country, are the Indian people themselves.

The Indian population should take more responsibility for its system and take it to task for failing them. They should demand more from their government. Men should insist that their daughters get a good education. People from the lower class should have real opportunities to advance themselves out of their standard work. They have the power to make sure their governments live up to their promises. But they don’t. And that’s the real shame with the country. These things can be forced to be improved, but all I got out of my time in India was a sense of malaise in its people, as if they are defeated by the system and too accepting of their dire plights. Many seemed to accept the status quo as if it was their fate, or something they deserved.

Yes, I enjoyed my time in India. As a single woman traveler I found it exhilarating, exhausting and probably the most challenging country I have ever been to (and believe me, I am well traveled). The hassles are immense but the riches are rewarding. However, more than anything else I take away from India a sense of frustration that one month after my return to my home country I have not managed to shake. I have never been to such a cofounding country. It is a huge puzzle that I will probably never solve and I am happy that I went. However, a sense of sadness at the plight of many of its people has shaken me to my core. Individuals deserve justice, hope and a sense of dignity; things many people in India don’t have because of their government. The governments of India have a lot to answer for.

Enchanting Udaipur.

2008-10-16T07:20:00.009+04:00

My blog on Udaipur can be found here. The famous Lake Palace (where they filmed Octapussy) at dawn

Beautiful sunset

Inside the city palace
Jain Temple, Ranakpur
A little visit from someone during my morning coffee

Pretty and prozaic Pushkar

2008-10-16T05:26:00.002+04:00

My blog on Pushkar can be found here.

Jodhpur: Not fun, but pretty!

2008-10-16T05:18:00.006+04:00

My blog on my traumatic time in Jodhpur can be found here.The fort. One week after I was here 148 people died in the fort when a wall collapsed during a religious festival and a stampede developed. Sad.

Boys behaving badly during a festival.

See my blog for more details.

Point and shoot perfection: Jaisalmer

2008-10-13T21:36:00.011+04:00

My blog on Jaisalmer can be found here.
The unbelievable Jaisalmer fort and palace.
The Jain Temples inside the Jaisalmer fort.
Patwa-ki-Havali, Jaisalmer

Bikaner: Forts and rat temples

2008-10-13T21:22:00.009+04:00

Some blogs surrounding my time in Bikaner can be found here and here.

Junagarh Fort, Bikaner.

It had wonderful interiors but my pictures didn't show up very well.

Yes, here they worship rats. But they seemed to be in pretty sorry states.

Karni Mata rat temple near Bikaner.

Sometimes you just have to get things from A to B.

Agra:a tomb & a fort

2008-10-09T07:33:00.006+04:00

My blog relating to these pictures can be found here.

Hmm, this place looks familiar for some reason.

Agra Fort

Timeless Varanasi

2008-10-09T07:23:00.006+04:00

My blogs on mind-blowing Varanasi can be found here.

Looking south down the ghats in the morning. View from my hotel room.

The view down from the roof of my hotel.
The ghats from a boat.
This is the wood used for cremations.
Scales to measure the wood are in the back of the photo.

Haridwar: Not so bad after all

2008-10-06T05:31:00.004+04:00

My grumble about Haridwar can be found here.

About hour 6 of my 10 hour Haridwar train station ordealHaridwar ghats: the faithful bath and worship

Rishikesh: boulevard of broken souls

2008-10-06T05:18:00.007+04:00

My blog on Rishikesh can be found here.

There are two bridges over the Ganges: here's one!"Spiritual seekers welcome".....riiggghhht.

Talk about leading you down the garden path.

Cow and the Ganges. Can you get more holy?

Shimla

2008-10-06T05:09:00.005+04:00

My blogs on Shimla can be found here and here. The very picturesque Christ Church.

Nice view Mr. Monkey

On the Kalka toy train down from Shimla

Dharamsala & McLeod Ganj: Home-in-exile of the Dalai Lama

2008-10-03T05:29:00.007+04:00

My blog to go with these photos can be found here.

Main temple complex

Prayer wheels

I was in McLeod Ganj during the Beijing Olympics.

Protests were a regular occurrence.

Amritsar: Golden Temple and more

2008-10-02T17:54:00.008+04:00

My blog relating to these photos can be found here.

Contemplating sacredness
Golden Temple complex
The main meal itself: exquisite

Amritsar street scenes
Amritsar street scene
Sri Durgiana Hindu Temple Amritsar
Sri Durgiana Hindu Temple Amritsar: amazing door panel

Finally some photos: let's start with Delhi

2008-10-02T17:39:00.004+04:00

My blog relating to these photos can be found here.

Ghandi Museum

Red Fort

Ahh, the famous Indian autorickshaw

Humayun's Tomb

Paharganj: backpacker ghetto & uncontrolled chaos.

Udaipuurrr

2008-09-26T10:04:00.001+04:00

It's known as that place where Octopussy was filmed. It's known as the place with the floating palace that is now a hotel where Liz Hurley apparently got married. It's known as the jewel of Rajasthan. To me, it's the last stop on my two month tour of India.

Udaipur is situated in the South of Rajasthan and it's a destination unto itself in India. The famous lake palace floats on a calm, monsoon-dependant lake and is surrounded my gorgeous rolling hills. Really, it's quite pretty compared to many other places I've been to in India, and it's quite unique compared to the other parts of Rajasthan that I've seen.

Udaipur is also very good for tourists as there's a lot to see if you could be arsed to get off your butt and go see them. Thankfully, I met a nice German girl, Eva, on my way down on the train. Eva is just in her second week of travelling and so is full of zest and energy and touristic enthusiasm, unlike my tired, lethargic self. So, Eva has been the catalyst to me being a serious tourist again, and we've been doing it with a vengeance.

We've done the city palace and the monsoon palace. We've visited cultural centres and dancing performances. We even rented a car and spent the day tootle-ing around the Udaipur countryside which was definitely a highlight.

I have to admit that at this point in my trip, palaces and forts don’t really impress me - after a while you do get fort fatigue. However, our day visiting the fort of Kumbalgarh and a beautiful Jain temple as turned out to be a highlight of my trip. For 1200 rupees (about 25 dollars) you can rent a taxi out of Udaipur to visit these delights over a 10 hour day. They really are worth the time and money, especially for the exquisite Jain temple with over 140 pure white marble pillars which appears to have been built in the middle of nowhere for some reason. However, what really made me happy was just getting out of a city and seeing a bit of the devastatingly beautiful Rajasthan countryside. It was a lovely break from the hustle and bustle of the Indian city, and it allowed me to see some small simple villages where people go about their lives oblivious of the world outside of its boundaries. The images of local women in their electrically-coloured saris walking down dusty roads with a mound of crops balanced precariously on their heads will stay with me for a very long time.

The biggest bonus about Udaipur however is the food!! There are 3 or 4 restaurants here which really have it right, both food-wise and service-wise. We're talking about apple crumple so light it dances on your tongue. We're talking about homemade gnocchi and pesto sauce. We're talking about Twinning's Earl Grey Tea. And chicken curry with garlic naan which is to die for. On man, have I been a happy camper, hanging out in coffee shops drinking espresso and talking to other travellers about their trips. And gaining back some of the 10 kilos I have lost in the last two months.

Of course, it hasn't been all perfect. I was nearly purposely run over by two teenage guys on a motorcycle. The street was empty, I was walking on the side of it, so their screeching to a halt less than a foot in front of me was for no other reason than to provoke a reaction. I was sure they were going to run me over and it's a miracle they didn't. I asked them what their problem was and if they realised that the whole street was empty. They told me to f**k off. That was fun. And Eva was confronted by an angry teenage boy when she walked by him without answering his hello. You must understand, as a foreign woman in this country literally not a minute goes by without a teenage boy saying hello to you. And they all want to sell you something too. When Eva explained nicely to the guy that she would not get anywhere in India if she talked to everyone who said hello to her, the boy responded by telling her to get out of the country because they didn't want Europeans here anyways.

So yes, India continues to throw up its challenges. Eva was very upset by the experience. I'm much more philosophical. There are s***heads in every country, even India.

Tonight, I'm on an overnight train to Delhi where I'll hang out with friends for a few days before I fly out of the country on October 1. I'll do at least one more post on my trip. I hope to get some thoughts on paper to sum up my time here before I head into the next phase of my year. Stay tuned for that and some photos!

Pushy priests in Pushkar

2008-09-23T13:16:00.003+04:00

I’ve been wondering for the last few days what I would blog about Pushkar. I mean, there’s not much to say, it’s a small, quiet town. And although I was there for 4 days, I honestly did not do much at all, something which made me immensely happy.

Pushkar is a very holy city however. It’s situated about 10km outside of the larger, prosperous town of Ajmer. A local bus (for about 20 cents) will take you the ½ hour journey over a small mountain pass to Pushkar, which is surrounding by small, rolling mountains. The geography of the area really reminded me of the Okanagan area of British Columbia, Canada. Rocky mountains, desert area, lots of shrubs and bushes, and quite dry. I was having déjà vu moments from my childhood as we entered the city.

Pushkar itself has a small population of about 15,000. It’s famous throughout India as the place where Brahma dropped a lotus flower from heaven onto the Earth, and Pushkar floated to the surface. The town is centered around a small, holy lake, its banks totally enclosed by sacred bathing ghats (steps leading down to the water so pilgrims can bath). It takes all of 30 minutes to walk around the lake and take in the sights.

As a traveler, Pushkar is heaven. The level of accommodation is very good and it’s small enough to walk everywhere – so no need to negotiate with pushy autorickshaw drivers. There is good food to be found as well – I even found a restaurant which served very good pasta using imported olive oil. May not seem to be a big deal, but after 2 months on the road it was a big treat. Also, the size of the town equals less hassle. The shopping is very good for tourists, and the touts and sales guys are fairly relaxed. No hard sell here really, just friendly “namaste’s (hello) as you go by. The only real hindrance were pushy fake priests who would accost you on the main road, thrusting flowers in your hands for you to put into the lake, at the same time demanding money for the privilege. By this time my shoo-ing skills are quite developed and they were never too much of a pain.

So, my four days in Pushkar went like this: get up, shower, eat breakfast, go for a walk, eat lunch, maybe shop, read for a couple of hours, spend time on the internet, go to dinner, sleep. Repeat. Lovely, just what I needed.

I left Pushkar a few days ago and have been in Udaipur since. This is the last city I’ll be visiting before I head back to Delhi at the end of the week. Udaipur is gorgeous, there is much to do, and I’ve found a good hotel at a great price, so it’s a nice place to end my India trip. More on Udaipur and surrounds later in the week.

Namaste!

Me & Jodhpur: Not busom buddies

2008-09-17T11:07:00.001+04:00

Shame. I thought Jodhpur and I would be fast friends and that we would get along like a house on fire. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

It all started when I left Jaisalmer for Jodhpur on the 4 o’clock train. We were suppose to get into Jodhpur at 945 pm but were late by well over an hour. Luckily I had asked for a station pick up and after a quick phone call, my autorickshaw arrived to ferry me to my booked hotel.

The level of accommodation in Rajasthan had been very good thus far, but the Cosy Guest House – although recommended – was a disappointment. I had been promised a room with a private bathroom, but it wouldn’t be ready until the next day. So, my first night in Jodhpur was in a very hot room with an open grill for a roof – making changing my clothes a magnet for peekers from above.

The next day I was moved into a very cramped room with private bathroom as originally requested but as it was relatively clean, I accepted it. The view was unbeatable as well I must mention – an open and clear view of the main reason to come to Jodhpur – the fort that dominates the landscape for miles around.

I headed out for the fort after a quick breakfast. I had no energy after the last 24 hours and the trudging up to the very high fort took a lot out of me. It was then when it started to pour down rain, really just drenching everything. Rain is a good thing for the water-starved locals, not so good if you want to relax and enjoy the outside courtyards of the fort. The fort really is very nice with an excellent audio guide included in the fee, although I did enjoy Jaisalmer’s more I think.

At the end of my long tour, and once the rain had subsided, is when it all started to go wrong. As I was walking down from the fort on cobble stoned streets, I started to hear the occasional very large bang which reverberated off the large fort walls. I had heard from some other backpackers that there had been bombs in Delhi, and I furrowed my brow wondering what these blasts heralded. I was sure that it wasn’t bombs though, I heard no screaming or yelling.

It wasn’t until I got to the bottom gate of the fort that I understood that I was going to caught up in local festivities on behalf of Ganesh, the elephant-headed god of Hinduism. The blasts were very large fireworks being set off. As I gingerly made my way through the famous blue-washed old city, I began to be accosted by more and more young men and boys who would surround me, singing, chanting, throwing each other in the air and covering each other with different coloured power – violent red, pink, blue and yellow. I quickly realized that I was becoming a target, as the young men increased in numbers. I did what I usually did in these sorts of situations, I seeked out women to sit with.

Women didn’t seem to be taking part in this celebration, instead they watched proceedings from the sidelines while the festivities seemed to give the young men a license to behave quite badly. The processions down the narrow streets continued, as statues of the deity were held aloft. Once word spread that there was a foreigner around, then I was done for. I was singled out time and time again as the processions went passed. I was pulled, prodded and goaded. Most of all, however, I was a target to be strewn with their powder, from head to toe. None of the other women were touched, it was just me who seemed to be the centre of attention. I didn’t start to feel particularly panicked until some young boys of about 6 or 7 started pelting me with something hard. I’m not too sure what it was, perhaps very hard devotional food, but it hurt and I screamed at them to stop, which they eventually did. I hovered behind a wall of local women until it was safe to get back to my hotel. I was covered from head to toe in garish powder and spent the evening cleaning my clothes and bag as best I could. Even my camera wasn’t spared.

The next day was little better. I spent the day hanging around downtown, shopping. I didn’t find the locals particularly friendly, and the city itself is quite dirty and smelly – something it has a reputation for. I decided to head out early the next morning and my guesthouse worker was quiet annoyed that I decided not to book my ticket with him. I went to bed early to be able to get to the bus station early.

But it was not over yet! At around 9 pm singing through a very loud loudspeaker began just outside our hotel. This sort of thing happens often in India, and I was sure that the devotional singing would be done within a couple of hours, at it has done before when I encountered it. But this time it was different. The singing and drumming didn’t stop until 430 am – believe me, I was checking my watch every ten minutes or so. I think I only got about an hours sleep that night. When I walked downstairs in the morning to leave the guesthouse, I enquired (respectfully of course) why the singing had happened for so long. The guesthouse owner just surly told me it was prayer. She scowled at me as I left to the public bus station as I refused again to buy her ticket – I ended up saving about 40% of the fee by just taking an autorickshaw to the public bus station myself.

So, yes. Me and Jodhpur are not friends, but sometimes on the road things are like this. I spent yesterday on a bus to the small town of Pushkar, a holy city which is backpacker nirvana. I am happy again. I will stay here 4 nights to get over a cold I have acquired and then head out to Udaipur – one of the jewels of Rajasthan. Only 10 more days on the road before I have to re-enter Western society. I can hardly believe it.

The stuff of fairytales: Jaisalmer

2008-09-13T08:57:00.000+04:00

Jaisalmer...wow. I had heard through other travelers that Jaisalmer, near the border with Pakistan in the state of Rajasthan, was a pretty amazing place. They weren’t joking.

Jaisalmer is a fairy tale mirage, a crumbling, golden angel food cake of a fort, rising out of the vastness of the desert which surrounds it. The fort has 99 fat turrets, is over 850 years old, and it’s one of the only forts in the world which is still inhabited, as over 300 families still call the inside of the fort home. The fort is full of beautiful old houses and beguiling laneways which beg you to follow their curves. There are several Jain and Hindu temples, hundreds of years old and crammed with amazing beautiful carvings, just waiting to be discovered. You can happily get lost for hours, taking pictures of the light which bounces and caresses off the golden stone and overdose your camera on fascinating architectural angles. I know that I did.

But, the fort is in danger. Because of the increased water usage of the modern world, the very foundations of this amazing world heritage site is beginning to crumble. You can see the water levels on the bottom of the turrets, slowly slinking up the building and strangling it via stealth. Conservation efforts are ongoing and travelers are urged not to use the hotels and restaurants in the fort itself, as it contributes to the ongoing problems.

Jaisalmer is a great place to spend a few days doing absolutely nothing. Continuing my vows to be a lazy traveler, I get up around 8 am, go out and sightsee for a few hours and then head back to the hotel to watch TV during the hot hours of the afternoon. In the evening I head out for dinner before returning for some light reading. Jaisalmer is great for this schedule. It’s small enough that you can walk almost everywhere. The streets are relatively clean, the vibe is relaxed and the food is pretty good considering we are in the middle of nowhere. The people of Jaisalmer really depend on tourism – the only other real industry in town is a very large military base which patrols the border with uneasy neighbour Pakistan. Because of this dependency, the tourist facilities are very good. I found a great hotel on the recommendation of another traveler and have been paying a mere 6 dollars for a great room in a 300 year old havali (ornately carved indigenous type of house) which has satellite TV and a sparking bathroom with marble tiles.

I wander the streets of the town and fort, ignoring the pleas of shopkeeper to be their friend and empty my wallet at their establishments. I take pictures of houses which appear to have sprung from the desert fully formed. I meet other travelers have long dinners under the desert moon. I relax. This is the India I was searching for.

Next stop: I’m (slightly reluctantly) off to Jodhpur.

The life of a single woman traveller in India

2008-09-09T08:26:00.000+04:00

Please, let me explain to you a little what it is like being a woman traveling alone in India.

I like going to train stations well in advance of my train time. I like spending time sitting in a corner and watching the Indian world go by. Last night, while trying to ignore the throng of young Indian men surrounding me and taking my picture, I even saw a cow literally walk over a family of three who were taking a snooze on the platform before their train (a common occurrence here). The two adults seemed to come out okay, but the boy with them, about 7 or 8, had the cow step on his stomach directly, and was a little worse for wear the poor thing. The mob scene surrounding me didn’t bat an eyelash except to giggle at my horrified reaction to the cow’s antics.

To say that as a white woman you will be the centre of attention in India is a bit of an understatement. It’s a cultural thing with the Indians that they like to stare. Generally I don’t really have a problem with it, especially if they are just coping a look as they walk by. But last night, as I waited for my train out of Bikaner to Jaisalmer, it went to another level.

A Spanish couple saw me and sat beside me and that’s when the fun really began. Up until that point, I was getting the usual – groups of 3 or 4 boys walking past, asking “which country?” or “one snap” (photo) or just plain trying to take my photo on the sly. In short bursts I can deal with them. But when Fernand and Marium joined me, all hell broke loose. As we waited on the platform, we were literally surrounded by at least 2 dozen young boys, on all sides, standing less than 1 meter away. They were 2 or 3 people deep, and all they did was stare. We walked along the platform to talk to the station master, they followed and regrouped in their same places as we walked. We moved to a whole other platform, they followed. By this time they weren’t just subtly trying to take our photos, they were just out and out blatant about it, which really bothers me and makes me feel like I’m an animal in a zoo and not a human being.

When the train pulled in, we walked up and down the platform trying to find our coach. They followed. We got on the train and walked down its corridor to our seats, they followed from the outside of the train and stared through the open windows. We found our seats, they camped outside the windows, just staring, until the train took off about 20 minutes later. It’s incredible.

Bikaner is a small town, and there are fewer tourists here, so that might be why the situation was particularly bad last night, but all in all it is very disconcerting to be followed with such fervour. I do not feel that I am in danger because of it, but it does make me want to learn in Hindi “Really people, I’m not from another planet or anything so just chill out would you?”

Anyways, I enjoyed my few days in Bikaner. It’s a small, dusty town, and I had a great hotel and I met someone to bum around with for a couple of days. A visit to the ‘Rat Temple,’ where they literally worship rats and invite them in to stay, was creepy to say the least (photos will be forthcoming for sure, stay tuned). And a quick walk through the old city revealed a really spectacular Jain temple, with amazing paintings.

The train out of Bikaner has brought me overnight to Jaisalmer, a crumbling sandcastle of a city out in the middle of the desert by the border of Pakistan. I have been in town for about 3 hours but already I know it’s the stuff of dreams. I am here for 4 nights. I just know it’s going to be great.

India Part 2: Rajasthan

2008-09-06T17:11:00.000+04:00

Wow, how lucky am I? S and I met over the phone, he in England, me in Australia a few years ago. We were both working for a horrid reality TV series and had to talk several times on the phone per day for weeks at a time. Then, a year or so later, we finally met in person when I was working in Doha.

‘Lo and behold a couple of years later, S and his wife A have welcomed me into their home in Delhi and made me feel incredibly pampered and lucky that I know such generous people.

I have spent the last 3 nights in Delhi being fattened up, served drinks at will, driven around in an air conditioned car and generally just being cared for very, very well.

I will not lie. The last month in India has been tough on me, both physically and mentally. S’s daughter N believes that I have lost at least 10 kilos in that month. The weather, the constant hassle and the sheer energy involved in travelling through this crazy country had taken me a bit to the cleaners emotionally.

Now, after 4 days of pampering, I feel like I can take on the world. S arranged a taxi last night to take me to my overnight train. This being Delhi, the taxi driver was half an hour late for the booking and dropped me off at the wrong station even after I asked him a couple of times if it was the right place. A quick talk to the station master made it clear that the taxi driver was wrong, but the station masters put me in a rickshaw and I made my train with about 20 minutes to go, so not that big of a deal.

This morning, that train pulled into the dusty, small desert town of Bikaner, in the princely state of Rajasthan. Bikaner is a bit of breath of fresh albeit dusty air. The rickshaw drivers didn’t try to screw me over after I was sure they would. The hotel I have picked is cheap but extremely clean, so much so it’s almost freaking me out. I spent today wandering around the very well maintained fort in the middle of the city. The cost of entry includes a very good audio guide and the palaces inside the fort were pristine. My energy levels are up. I had a chocolate milkshake and I’m still standing, and I’m looking forward to my next three weeks in Rajasthan. I feel I have turned a corner. Just don’t remind me I said that when my next downturn arrives, will you?

I will spend the next two days in Bikaner. There is a temple that worships rats outside of town that I want to go see, and I might wander around the old city as well for a few hours. Then, on the night of the eighth, I’m off to Jaisalmer, which fellow travelers have said is absolutely stunning. Good, I need some stunning in my life.

Agra: The Taj, the Fort and Fatehpur Sikri

2008-09-01T08:25:00.003+04:00

They say the Taj Mahal is the largest and greatest monument to love in the world, and they are probably right.

I spent this morning wandering around the Taj and it really is an amazing place. I woke early - at 530 am and wandered down the road from my hotel to stand in the queue for a ticket. I got in around 6 am.

The first thing that grabs you is that the Taj is huge. No picture really does it justice, it is immense and gleaming and pretty much perfect. And unlike almost every other monument I've been to in India, it is extremely well kept. As well it should be, as the price tag for entering is exhorbidant compared to every other place in the country as well (about US$20 or so). It's a money making machine for the Indian government, so they better treat it well.

The Taj is well over 300 years old but it certainly is holding up well. The inlaid jewels sparkle with the morning sun, and the white marble gleams and twinkles as the dawn makes its way across the monument. All in all, I spent 3 hours in the peaceful grounds, sitting, reading, taking pictures. It really is most spectacular.

Most travellers spend only a day in Agra as it has a bad reputation as being dirty and polluted. I have spent three as I wanted to see the Agra Fort, which is one of the nicest forst in India. And yesterday I took a day trip to see Fatehpur Sikri, an abandoned Moghul town about an hour away from Agra. Both of these monuments were very nice, and pretty impressive from an architectural point of view. However, my trip to Fatehpur Sikri on the local bus really solidified my resolve to stay away as much as possible from Indian busses. They are an abomination. Quite horrible.

I'm spending the rest of the day here in Agra and head tomorrow to Delhi to stay with A and S for a couple of days. I need a vacation from my vacation. I am tired. My stomach has never fully recovered from the first problem, and I need a really good hot long shower. September will be in Rajasthan, which I'm greatly looking forward to.

Timeless: Varanasi

2008-08-27T15:22:00.000+04:00

Well, KK was right. Haridwar for 48 hours wasn’t the end of the world. I did go see the very holy bathing ghats (steps which lead into the Ganges, so people can worship, wash their buffalo, do their laundry and various other things). And a walk through the backstreets of Haridwar reveals some interesting and relatively well kept havalis (old, intricately carved homes, often with an inside courtyard) and ashrams.

However, my heart was in Varanasi already and thankfully my train wasn’t cancelled this time. Lesson number one for those taking an Indian train: the ticket inspector is your best friend, treat him as such and bounty will spring from his fingertips. As I have already mentioned, I could only get a sleeper berth for the 19 hour trip to Varanasi which means 19 hours of no air conditioning and windows open to the weather. However a quick pleading on the platform with the TI gave me an upgrade to 3 AC – an air conditioned cabin with 3 tiers of sleepers. It was exactly what I wanted. I heaved my sack onto my top berth and was lulled to sleep by the train.

Varansi is the beating heart at the centre of India. It looks like it is thousands of years old – everything seems to be crumbling – but various invasions means that most of the buildings we see today really are only a couple of hundred of years old. But that means nothing. Hinduism is thousands of years old and the city pulses with the vibe of that length of time.

Most of all for Hindus, Varanasi is a very auspicious place to die. If you die and are cremated here, it means that you break the cycle of reincarnation and immediately go to heaven. So, the dark and dank alleys of the old city are full of the old and infirm, and funeral processions are a regular occurrence.

On my first day of arrival, I decided to get lost in the old city. I wandered through ancient cobbled streets filled with people and shops and disappeared into a mass of humanity just as I have wanted. Really, with no particular intent, I ended up at Manikarnika ghat, the main burning ghat of Varanasi – this is the best place to get cremated. The place looks like it hasn’t changed for a thousand years, which it probably hasn’t.

I took a seat under a trap to watch the goings on. The body of a woman was about to be cremated. The wood for her funeral pyre was carefully selected a weighed so that the family will get charged the right amount. Her body, swathed in plain white cotton, was carried to the Ganges on the shoulders of four men. It is then plunged totally into the water before being put on the pyre. A holy man and the woman’s son (head shaved, plain cotton robes), circle the body and it is put alight by 300 year old fire (according to the man beside me). Then, nature takes it course as her son paces around the ghat. I was 20 meters away and I could see and smell everything. I thought it would make me ill, but infact I was calm. Cremation makes sense to me, I understand the rituals and why people do it. I found the experience intense yet calm. I am told it takes about three hours for a body to burn and the ashes to be spread in the Ganges. I stayed for well over an hour – maybe two – before bowing my head and thanking the men beside me and going on my way.

The Ganges is the soul of Varanasi. It is the centre of the city and of life. While Manikarnika is perhaps the most dramatic ghat, there are infact more than 80 that line the Ganges, often they are built by maharajas and other prominent people or families. People bath, drink and wash in the water but you won’t see me going near it. It is literally septic here – there is no oxygen in the water at all, as more than 30 sewer lines make their way from the old city to belch into the Ganges. Taking a lazy boat ride down the Ganges is a must however, Varanasi is all rundown and looks like it’s going to be enveloped by the river, which is seriously swollen from the monsoon. But even if it does, Varanasi will go on. It is timeless.

I will stay here another couple of days. I have a guesthouse right on the water with its own ghat, and the view is unbelievable. Today I spent the day in Sarnath, a half hour from Varanasi. Sarnath is particularly important as it’s the place where Buddha gave his first sermon and found his first disciples. But maybe more about that later.

Next stop: Quintessential India: The Taj Mahal.

Kick to the gut:Haridwar

2008-08-23T09:30:00.000+04:00

Well, that’s what I get for mellowing into India. Just when you get complacent India kicks you in the gut to remind you that YOU are not the boss, she is.

Yesterday I dutifully left my guesthouse at 12 noon and made my way to Haridwar, which is from where I was suppose to take my train. I arrived Haridwar at around 1400 – the train wasn’t due until 2215! Oh well. I sat my butt down in the railway station and just waited and watched. Indian railway stations are very interesting places, and Haridwar most especially as it’s pilgrimage season, when Hindus come to Haridwar to bath in the Holy Gages. So, along with the other interesting characters in a railway station (women in sarees, children, beggars, army personnel, dogs and even the occasional cow wanders by) there are also thousands upon thousands of religious pilgrims in their best attire, often with shaved heads.. It was fascinating, and I actually quite enjoyed myself for most of the day, talking to people, playing with kids, just hanging out.

However, at around 2115 the gentleman beside me turns to me and asks me where I am going. Varanasi on the 2215 train I say. He reluctantly informs me that the train has been cancelled according to an announcement. A frantic discussion with the tourist police confirms it. Not only that, but the train tomorrow has been cancelled as well! I am right and truly screwed.

So, I got a seriously dodgy hotel for the night and queued this morning to get a new ticket. I leave tomorrow night at 2215 but could only get a non-AC sleeper berth which I’m not very happy about.…inshallah. In the mean time I have 48 unexpected hours in Haridwar. Not a happy traveler.

The lost and found room for souls: Rishikesh

2008-08-21T18:14:00.002+04:00

Yes, so, Rishikesh. It’s like backpacker heaven up here, and it styles itself as the yoga capital of the world.

Rishikesh is situated about an 8 hour bus ride from Chandigarh but it could be a universe away. We have left the plains of the Punjab and moved onto a whole other state altogether. Nestled in the foothills of some mountains, in a lovely valley, Rishikesh is crammed full with Indian pilgrims, sadhu’s (holy men on spiritual journeys), backpackers lost in their own spirituality and trying to ‘find themselves,’ monkeys and literally holy cows. Ashrams fill the banks of the holy Ganges, which flows freely and strong here. Best not to bath in the holy waters, you may be stripped away and drowned by the very strong current.

I have to say that I find most of Rishikesh to be false and fake. I don’t commune with my fellow backpackers who are looking for answers about their spirituality, about their lives, their families, their loves. Perhaps it’s because I’m a pretty centered person generally, and have a healthy dose of skepticism, but I stay well away from any Sadhu who wants to befriend me, show me appropriate yoga poses, who asks for donations, hands cupped, eyes pleading. I hope that some of my tie-dyed fellow backpackers meet genuine people who want to help them, but I am dubious that there are many here.

It’s like a meeting point for the spiritually wasted and it attracts some bad elements that feed off of it. I honestly believe that if you’re not happy in your own country, then you are not going to find happiness in a totally foreign culture. I sincerely believe that the answers these people are looking forward can only be found within themselves, the “mystical East’ will not provide it for them. Infact, much of what can be found here in Rishikesh at least can only make things worse. Some of my fellow backpackers here have no life in their eyes, like they have taken one too make tokes off the bong and have had their soul plundered.

Now, with all of that said, I’m having a wonderful time. My guesthouse is spic and span clean, it has hot water and it has lovely, breezy windows on two sides which gives me glimpses of the lush hills surrounding. I’ve spent my time walking along the green paths of the Ganges and have spent a couple of days with a lovely Belgian woman I met in McLeod Ganj. I drink tea in cafes overlooking the river, I poke my nose into the ashram where the Beatles wrote the White album, now deserted and being devoured by the forest. I sit in the garden and talk with my guesthouse owner, Seema. Most of all, though, I read. I read like it’s the last thing I’m ever going to do on earth, something that I have missed during my time in academia. It’s taken a while but I’ve mellowed into backpacking, the motto of which is ‘take it slow, you have all the time in the world.’

Speaking of which, tomorrow I’m taking the train journey that will take about that length of time. A 19 hour trip to the holy city of Varanasi, one of the places in India I am most excited about seeing. Next update from there.

Shimla revisited

2008-08-20T10:14:00.001+04:00

Maybe I was a bit too harsh on Shimla. I mean really, it’s not the town’s fault that I was so miserable in it. When the clouds briefly parted for all of 3 minutes it really was a breathtaking place. It’s a miracle that it even exists actually. Who would have thought that after a crazy Scotsman would build a summer home up there, that the whole British government in India would run for the hills in the summers to escape the suffering of the summers on the plains. If you ever see Shimla, and have to get there by public transit, you’ll see how preposterous it all really is.

But Shimla is beautiful, and clean and like walking through a lovely British village, except that its full of rich Delhi-ites trying to escape the heat of the plains just like their former colonial masters did.

However, after two days of damp, I felt that I had to get out of Shimla before my clothes were eaten up by dampness and fungi (really, I’m serious!). P and I had booked tickets out of Shimla in a really laborious and bureaucratic way, and made for the train station early that morning. I was waitlisted on the train, so didn’t have a 100% confirmation that I would have a seat, but I found out soon after arriving for the train that I would get a seat. The only problem was that there had been a landslide overnight onto the tracks and the train was delayed! My heart sank. I had booked an onwards ticket from Kalka (the end of the Shimla line) to Chandigarh, which is the capital of Punjab. I was sure I would miss the connection.

But, luckily, the travel gods were smiling at me and the landslide was soon cleared and we made our way down the mountain on the famous toy train of Shimla. The views really are spectacular actually, and we slowly made our way down the narrow-gauged track through 103 tunnels. I had the fortune of being sat with a lovely family from Delhi, parents and a son and daughter. They were very welcoming, spoke good English and assured me that they would drive me to Chandigarh if I missed my connection as they were going that way anyways.

But, luckily, I made my connection as the toy train made good time. A quick 30 minute fast journey to Chandigarh was done without problems. I found myself an autorickshaw and made my way to my hotel.

Chandigarh looked to me an interesting place, very different from the rest of India that I had seen. Being the capital of the Punjab it was very green and spacious and controlled and clean. It had actually been designed by a French man. I thought that I would be nice to spend a day or two but really I had my heart set on Rishikesh and so I pressed on the next day on a public bus. It was a less painful experience this time as I found a prime place on the bus that protected me from the Indian masses that inevitably cram themselves onto public busses. I also shared the journey with a lovely young lady named Shelly, who was 24 and worked by herself in Chandigarh. We talked about our lives, about marriage, about women in India etc for the long journey. She left about an hour before we made it to Rishikesh and after a marathon 2 days traveling and an 8 hour bus ride, I had finally made it to the “yoga capital of the world”.

Shimla: the Wet

2008-08-18T13:28:00.000+04:00

Well, I last left you in McLeod Ganj I think, where I spent four days in the hills with Tebetan monks and a great ground of frenchies whom I fell in with and spent a lovely few days. It feels like ages since I left vbut really it was only a couple of days ago. So much has happened since!

I left McLeod Ganj early in the morning. I took a taxi down the mountain to Dharamsala, which is where the bus stand is. The bus I had booked was a “semi deluxe” which really is just a euphamism for “it sucks”. It was old, the chairs were stained, the breaks were dodgy but mercifully it was not crowded like so many other busses I have been in in this country.

Thus began a 10 hour journey from McLeod Ganj to Shimla, the ex-British Raj summer resort for the former British government of India. I cannot emphasize enough the rain that I was to encounter in the next few days. I’m a Vancouver girl, and so know rain, but this rain never stopped. As we climbed further and further into the mountains (Shimla is more than 2000 meters above sea level), the rain increased, and deluges came down the mountains in waterfalls and sloshed across our already dodgy roads. I pledged then and there not to take the bus down the mountain.

The ride from hell was made a bit easier by P, who I met on the bus. P is an interesting person. She is a citizen of one of the biggest pariah states in the world at the moment, where she grew up as an ethnic minority. She is currently doing graduate studies in the US and was in India doing summer work for an NGO. In a year, P has to make big decisions about her life, including whether or not to return to her home country, which is a wreck. She is reserved, but I can hardly blame her for that. We end up spending the next 3 days together in Shimla.

The bus drops us off well before the bus stand, in the pouring rain. We are picked up by a taxi and take some lifts up to the main corso area of Shimla, where there are no cars allowed. Thus follows a miserable hour in the rain, trying to find a place to sleep and wishing we were mountain goats so that our packs were lighter. Eventually we made our way to the YMCA, which overlooks most of Shimla. P and I take side-by side rooms, which are clean enough but damp as anything. In the two days we are there, none of my clothes dry and most begin growing fungi because of the constant damp. It really is incredible.

I’m sure that Shimla is a place of immense beauty most of the time, but my two days there were really just miserable. I had to wear the same clothes for days at a time, my feet were always cold and I never felt warm. The paper informed me that the weather was record-breaking but that didn’t make me happier. P and I walk the corso a few times, drink some coffee, and try a valiant effort to stay dry. It doesn’t work.

There are a few bright lights of my time in Shimla though. The first is a dinner I have with G, whom I have known for years but never met. We meet for dinner one night and have a fabulous time talking about India, about its people, how it treats its women and its future. G is a successful career woman in Shimla and she’s just fantastic.

The second bright light in Shimla is when P and I decide to take in a Bollywood movie, the latest blockbuster that is called Singh is King. It’s a comedy which stars Ashkay Kumar about a Sikh guy who goes to Australia and becomes the head of a sort of gang…it’s a long story, but it was fun to see a Bollywood movie in an Indian cinema, once I had sent two naughty young guys to the doghouse for bugging me.

Next stop: the decent from Shimla and the travel to Rishikesh.

Oh the people you meet!

2008-08-12T11:26:00.001+04:00

Ram runs the hotel where I have been staying the last few days. We have tea in his office as we watch cricket (India V Sri Lanka. Sri Lanka are apparently “well poised.”) while he chain smokes. Ram tells me he has trained as a chemist, was the head of the India-Tibet Friendship Society, and was involved in Congress politics. I believe him. We talk about politics, about Tibet, about drugs for dodgy stomachs. He is obviously well read according to the bookshelves that line his office. He checks up on me politely when he hasn’t seen me in more than 12 hours. He is a learned, gracious man, and he has made me feel at home in his hotel.

When I was at the temple a couple of days ago, I was taking it slow because of the condition of my stomach. So, I took a seat overlooking the magnificent valley. Beside me was a Tibetan monk and we started to chat. Turns out he escaped from Tibet in 2001, and made the long, arduous journey through the dangerous mountain passes to get to McLeod Ganj. We talk quietly for a few minutes about the beauty of Tibet and McLeod Ganj, and about where I come from and what I do. After about 5 minutes of silence, I bid him adieu with a head bow. Others take his picture. I don’t. The man has been through enough and he is not an animal in a zoo. He is a man persecuted for his religion.

On that same visit to the temple, as I am sitting among the Tibetan women outside the shrine, a young Western woman comes to ask me a question. Her name is Sarra, is French and is a science teacher. We decide to meet for dinner that night and have again each night subsequently. She is half French, half Tunisian and utterly beguiling. We share stories about our time in India, we share stories about our lives. She is just fantastic. It’s for people like her that I travel.

Unknown-named Nepalese Waiter Boy (UNNWB) asks me my name. Asks where I come from. Asks me if I am married, where my children are. UNNWB languidly serves me my tea so he can cop a good look at me. He finds it amusing to lie to me so he can see my reaction. He criticizes Sarra out loud because she smokes. Amazingly, he has cousin-brothers in every city I have ever lived. And they have all married Canadian girls and are very happy of course! UNNWB asks me what guesthouse I am living in. He contrives to finish work at the same time I leave his establishment so he can follow me into town. I lose him. Thankfully I lied about the guesthouse I am staying in.

Dharamsala/McLeod Ganj

2008-08-11T09:35:00.000+04:00

I can’t profess to be an expert on the Tibet-China crisis, because honestly it’s not a subject that I’ve had the time to explore from an academic point of view. And so, my observations here are only that – observations.

As I mentioned before, McLeod Ganj, where I have been staying for the last few days, is the home of the Tibetan government in exile. The current Dalai Lama and his entourage fled here in 1958 when the cultural revolution started by China penetrated deep into Tibet. Since that time he has been running the Tibetan government in exile from here in McLeod Ganj. As I write this, I am about 100m from his official residence at the temple in town. I’m not sure if he’s still here, but a couple of days ago I could swear I caught a glimpse of him as he drove past.

McLeod Ganj rings with the chants of protests. There has been at least one each day since I’ve been here. Lines of monks wander through the streets chanting anti-Chinese slogans and wielding banners. Although I sympathise with their plight, I do not join them. As a single female traveler I have to be prudent about where I decide to go and with whom. Joining would just court trouble.

The first day I was here I went down to the main temple. As temples go, it’s very modest. Consisting of a multi-storied cement structure, it has two modest temple areas which display objects smuggled out of Tibet by refugees. It’s not flashy, or grand. The place is crammed with monks and nuns studying and praying on cushions spread about the floor. Unlike the Indians, the Tibetans tend to ignore me as I walk by and sit by myself and I find it very refreshing. The attention foreign women can get in India can be stifling as sometimes it seems that every Indian male wants to be your ‘friend.’ To sit down and be ignored by a room full of people is like a breath of fresh air. And so I do, and I observe for hours on end.

The thing that has grabbed me most being here is the faces of the people, especially the older Tibetan women. Their faces are wrinkled, their eyes are haunting, as if they are not really seeing you and are instead living in a second reality in their homes in Tibet. They caress their prayer beads as they make their clock-wise moving prayers around the temple. They are hunched over, many appear to be in pain, but they continue thier praying and live day by day as exiles from their home country. It is a humbling experience to sit among them.

Health update: Still not 100% but am getting a bit better. One more day of pills then we will see how I am doing. I’m off to Dharamsala – about 30 minutes away, to book a bus to Shimla for the day after tomorrow. One of the pleasures of traveling is the people you meet, and I have met some wonderful and interesting people here in MG. I’ll write about a few of them tomorrow.

Amritsar

2008-08-10T11:22:00.001+04:00

Well, I can’t say that I’m feeling spectacular, but I’m feeling a bit better than I did a couple of days ago. Last night was awful though. I’ve started to have some reactions to the medicine I’m taking as prescribed from the doctor, so little sleep and some headaches.

I won’t pretend that the last few days have been delightful, but all in all I’m doing okay. I might stay in Dharamsala for another couple of nights and then see how I feel before I make my next move.

When I last left you blog-wise I was just leaving Delhi for Amritsar. Amritsar is in the Punjab, one of the most highly developed states in India and full of field upon field of beautifully-tended, fertile agricultural land. Many people from the Punjab immigrated to Canada after India’s partition from Pakistan. I can’t tell you how much going through the Punjab reminded me of Vancouver’s lower mainland, out around Langley. The fields are exactly the same. No wonder Indo-Canadian farmers feel so comfortable out there. The land is like a little bit of home to them. Incredible.

The trip up on the train went very well. Five hours in air conditioned beauty. Tea, coffee, meals, dessert all served up efficiently in air conditioned chair class. It was lovely. I arrived in Amritsar mid afternoon. Amritsar is a busy town, and is the home to the Golden Temple, the holiest temple to the Sikh people. I took a free bus to the temple from the train station and was deposited directly outside the temple. I wasn’t intending on staying in the temple, as I knew that they allowed foreigners to stay in simple rooms, however I was soon ushered into the sleeping quarters. It was simple dorms, basic at the best but by this point I wanted to meet some other travelers and quite frankly I was too tired to go looking elsewhere for a place to stay. So, I put down my bag and headed into the temple.

The Golden Temple cannot be accuarately described. It is an amazing place. It feels holy but it and the people who visit it are welcoming, relaxed, happy to be sharing their religion with you. Also, the temple (or Gurdwara (sp) as Sikh temples are known) is spick and span clean, something very unusual in this country. I mean it was perfect. You could have eaten off the floor. The temple consists of a large courtyard of holy water, where the devout ritually bath. In the middle of the tank of water is the temple itself, connected to land by a bridge. The temple is called the Golden Temple because it literally is gold, over 750KG of gold has been used to guild the outside of the temple. I spent many hours here, watching people bath, watching families make their pilgrimages, meeting other people, listening to the 24 hour chanting. It was wonderful.

Luckily for me, the temple also had some of the cleanest bathrooms in all of India that I have seen so far. I mean they were sparkling. This would do me well later on that night when I had that fateful thali. I’m telling you it was ugly. The ladies in the bathrooms got to know me well over the next 48 hours as I visited at all hours of the night and day trying to rid my system of the bug I had acquired. By the end of day 2 I hadn’t succeeded however I had to get out of the temple. I had to move on. The dorms were not suiting my medical condition and the oppressive heat was killing me. After slowly and deliberately visiting a couple more temples in Amrtisar, I got on a but to Dharamsala, where I am today. It was a hell journey. Non-air conditioned, 7 hours in a packed local bus. It seemed to go on forever and I wasn’t sure if my condition would hold out, but I knew I had to get into the mountains. That staying in Amritsar was not good for me. I finally made it but not a moment too soon.

Tomorrow I’ll give my thoughts on Dharamsala/McLeod Ganj – the home of the exiled Tibetan government and the Dalai Lama. It’s been fascinating and I’ve met some wonderful people – including finally a doctor when I admitted to myself that the Imodium just wasn’t working.

Felled by a thali

2008-08-07T16:22:00.000+04:00

I knew it was going too well. I am in Amritsar and last night I ate a Punjabi thali in a restaurant packed with locals and foreigners.

The 2 am dash to the restroom soon followed. And many more followed. Today, I've been taking it easy and putting in some immodium. I want to go to Dharamsala tomorrow but I'm not sure I'll feel well enough.

It's a shame, I like Amritsar and don't want my impression of it to be negative because of my health problems. I'm going to have to forego the border ceremony I think. I don't want to stay in the city when that's the only reason I would stay.

Thanks everyone for you kind words. Next update will be from Dharamsala and I'll catch you up on Delhi and Amritsar.

2008-08-05T15:08:00.002+04:00

Delhi seethes. Delhi is extremes. It is the newest Dior store right beside worker slums. It is cows, it is dogs and it is all their accumulated shit. It is beggars, it is Bollywood stars. It is cars, trains, auto-rickshaws, cycle rickshaws, motos, metros, it is busses. It is chaos yet it’s ordered. Delhi is everything you want it to be and nothing that you think it is. Delhi is unbelievable.

I have spent the last 72 hours in Delhi wandering around and checking it out as best as I can. I’ve negotiated taxi and rickshaw-wallahs with good effect. The only time I’ve been screwed out of money so far is by the pre-paid taxi dudes themselves – the ones who are supposed to help tourists. But thats the way it goes sometimes. And I should have been paying more attention anyways. I am comfortable enough to admonish severely a rather smelly and arrogant man who butted in line in front of me at the metro ticket counter, he scurried away to the great laughter of the ticket-seller. I am comfortable enough to tell the man at the Jama where to go when he wanted to take my money for taking pictures though I was taking none. There has been no eve-teasing, no harassment. I’ve held my own.

I feel comfortable here, like I’ve been here before. The stinking streets of Paharganj are just like any other backpacker ghetto across the world. It holds low-lifes along with children, priests and those just trying to get through life.

Today I have been humbled by the life of Mahatma Gandhi. I saw the watch, spectacles and the blood-stained clothes he was wearing when he was assassinated. “Mahatma” means great soul. The name is apt.

Today I took in the huge, old Red Fort, dating back hundreds of years. It was built by the Moghuls, it was taken over by the British, it was returned to the people of Delhi upon independence. It was surely amazingly beautiful at one time, but it is worn and it is tired – just like Delhi.

I also got to visit one of my favourite places to visit, a mosque. The Jama Masjid mosque can easily fit 25,000 worshippers when needed. The minarets soar into Delhi’s pollution, and the pigeons flutter between its dooms as if they were home. They probably are.

I can’t believe I have only been here for 3 days. It feels like a lifetime. Sydney seems very far away. Vancouver seems like another planet. India holds my heart for the next two months. Or until it really starts to bug me. Whichever comes first.

Day 2 and it's all good.

2008-08-03T15:58:00.002+04:00

Well it’s day 2 in New Delhi and all is going as expected so far.

My entry into this great capital was cushioned quite a bit by the fact that I was picked up by a car and driver who works for my friends. I was waiting for the rush of touts, beggars etc at the airport and there was nothing. I sailed through immigration and had my bags in less than half an hour. I breezed through customs and waited in the arrivals hall until I noticed Rajesh (the driver) walking around with my photo in his hand. I had forwarded it onto S last week. So, off to Delhi I was in a chauffered Scorpion and air conditioning. Not back at all.

The last 24 hours has seen me getting acquainted with S’s family. He’s away working at the moment and so his wife and children have graciously allowed me to stay for one night to get over my jet lag. Yesterday was mostly spent out at Gurgaon, which is infact another state altogether apparently. Gurgaon is a new IT center in Delhi and its construction is on par with Doha really – lots of glass buildings and modern extras. We went there to visit a friend of A’s and S’s, who lives in a posh block of flats out there. V taught A's son how to ride a bike. The kids swam in the pool. We ordered in. It was interesting to see the the expat side of Delhi. It’s quite the contrast from the other Delhi.

A negotiated a rickshaw for me this morning and I headed into central Delhi from where they live in the South. It only cost me 100 rupees as that’s what A bargained for me (she speaks fluent Hindi – yay!). The bastard dropped me off about 2 km away from where I was suppose to be dropped, but I quickly grabbed a cycle rickshaw and got to where I needed to be.

I dropped off my bag at the decidedly dodgy hotel where I am staying and headed out into Delhi. There have been no surprises, and none of the massive grief that I hear other people have gotten here. I think all my travels in SE Asia and the Middle East have well prepared me for Delhi. The touts have left me basically alone, and I don’t think I’ve been screwed around too much yet by people. Infact, I find most people to be kind and pleasant. I haven’t been accosted by anyone horrible yet, and when I’ve been asked for directions, they are given politely before they head on their way.

I can see why Delhi would be a horrible entry for some people into India. It is blazingly hot, it stinks, there doesn’t appear to be any road rules. But I think I’ve perfected my don’t-mess-with-me attitude. The key is to dress sensibly and walk at a medium pace and not stop no matter what anyone says to you unless you are interested in something. The hand wave I learnt in the Middle East – essentially waving your hand at touts using the back of your hand when it’s by your hip) scatters most of the dodgy characters, and if that doesn’t work then a quick “bos” or “chaley jao” (go away, essentially) does the trick.

This afternoon, because I’m still tired, I kept my wanderings small. I found and used the new metro system (fabulous! AIR CONDITIONED! Cheap!) and headed to Cannaught Place, a shopping area in the center of Delhi. I window shopped at the Western stores and then walked around an underground bazaar called Palika bazaar before heading home to Paharganj, the suburb I am staying at. It’s all good.

Tomorrow I think I will head to the Red Fort and maybe a mosque or two. I’m going slow to help me acclimatize after the cold of Sydney. I wanted warm….I’ve got warm!!! An energy-sapping humidity as well. Ah well, we can't have everything!

It's begun

2008-07-31T16:06:00.000+04:00

Well, it’s done. I’ve packed my bags. My boxes are being picked up tomorrow between 11:15 and 12:15 (how terribly specific), the property inspection is at 3 pm and then I’m out the door.

I have been in Australia for a total of 5 ½, almost 6 years, broken up by my 19 months in the Middle East. I should be very excited, as I’m heading to India for two months. But I don’t feel excited at all. I have just returned from the pub with some good friends of mine and I was talking to them about this dilemma. I’ve traveled so much over the last 10 years that I don’t get that rush that I used to. I remember when I first left Canada to branch out on my own – on the very not-tread-at-all-really tour through Europe. I didn’t sleep for days. There was a visceral twisting of my gut as I headed into the unknown, by myself. I don’t get that anymore, and I miss it. I suppose the reason is twofold. Firstly, I’m older. I am more centered and content in my life. Secondly, I have traveled so much in the last 10 years that I know that I can parachute into almost any country in the world and be essentially fine (barring Iraq and Afghanistan I suppose…but still). So that gut-wrenching experience of getting charged up is no longer needed as I know that I’ll be okay. I’m a bit sad though. I would love to be able to feel that charge again.

But enough on the negative stuff. I’m heading to India!! It’s been my dream for years….seriously…years to go to India. I’ve read the books, I’ve watched the movies. I’ve listened to the music. I almost feel like I’ve been there before, I feel I know it so well.

But of course I don’t know it at all. I’ve spent the last few years being very responsible. I went to the Middle East to work to make some money – even though it was an amazing experience. I have spent the last year finishing a master’s degree like a good student and career-minded woman. Now, at last, these two months are mine.

I want to disappear into a mass of humanity. I want to live by my wits. I want to walk down alleys that have seen empires rise and fall and buy vegetables from a man whose family has sold vegetables for centuries. I want to be shocked by poverty and humbled by humility. I want to switch off my head and switch on my senses.

I fly into Delhi early Saturday morning. I am being spoilt by being picked up from the airport by my friend S’s car and driver, so my entry into Delhi and India will be cushioned. However, Sunday morning I strike off on my own and dive into it. I will update this blog as often as I can, and I hope you will enjoy the journey with me. Drop me notes if you can. Thanks for your company.

A rough guide of my 9 week trip to India, starting August 1

2008-07-24T11:13:00.000+04:00

2008-07-21T10:45:00.003+04:00

Well, Catholic World Youth Day has been in town for the last week. Actually, they call it World Youth Day, with not a word of the fact that it is infact a purely Catholic event. Also, it's not just one day, it's a full week of road closures, traffic mayhem, and mobs of loved-up young Catholics taking over the city in all their grubby, well-meaning glory.

I'll reserve my thoughts on the church for now, however one thing struck me as I was watching the news of the last week. I was wondering about the women in the church, most especially the nuns.

These are women who have devoted their lives to their faith, just as priests and monks have done. They care for the elderly, they care for the sick and they educate thousands upon thousands of Catholic - and otherwise - children. More to the point, they make the same sacrifices as the men do for their faith. They often leave their homes for years at a time to live and work in foreign countries. They dedicate their life to reading and studying the bible. They promise to live in poverty and help other people. They don't marry or have children. The sacrifices are the same.

As a rabid feminist, I am sad for these women that altough they have the same dedication as men to their beliefs, they will never fully take part in the church. They are restricted in some of the services they can perform. They will never be able to preach from an alter. They will never be a bishop, a cardinal, and certainly not a pope - however I have heard that there was a woman pope before. These women are making the same commitment yet they will never be fully able to participate in their faith, and simply because they have ovaries and a vagina (although they are not used for what they were made for!), they will always take a backseat to the men.

I wonder how they can be happy with a system that is so discriminatory. I suppose they know going into their vocation that this is the reality of their situation, however I can't for the world of me understand how they can be satisfied with the system the way it is.

2008-07-21T10:43:00.001+04:00

Movie Review: The Band's Visit

2008-07-08T09:40:00.002+04:00

I learnt about The Band’s Visit - an Israeli-Arab movie which was released last year elsewhere but has just been released here in Australia - through the famous Australian movie reviewers Margaret and David.

D and R and I got together and went and saw it this past Saturday. What a little gem. The premise of the movie is that the Alexandria (Egypt) Police Orchestral Band had arrived in Israel to play a concert at the opening of a new Arab Cultural Centre. Through some bad planning and decisions, they end up in the wrong city. They have no choice but to spend the night at this middle-of-nowhere joint with the interesting local characters.

The Band’s Visit may seem to be about nothing much in particular, but this movie – spoken in Arabic, Yiddish and English – is about so, so much without ramming messages down throats. There is the stoic, glum band leader. There is the young, stubborn Romeo. There are proud military men who have lost their way in more ways than once. There is the depressed lady shop owner looking for a good time.

The movie manages to be both very funny but also poignant in a gentle, teasing way. Very little is resolved, but so much is quietly said. I highly recommend you go see this film if you have the opportunity.

2008-07-04T09:53:00.004+04:00

It's amazing how time flies when you've got nothing to do. I'm down to working two days per week and have a month of leisure in front of me before I leave Sydney. I haven't been bored yet. When I'm tired of reading I surf the net. When I'm not sure what to do, I take a walk along the water with the view of the Sydney Opera House. I go to pump class. Increasingly I'm spending time tieing up loose ends before I leave Sydney for good.

I am so glad that I'm back to reading. Uni had sort of beaten the love of reading out of me, as I had to do so much heavy, jargon-filled reading for the degree. It's taken an adjustment to get back to reading for pleasure, just simple pleasure. It feels so luxurious to do so, to give myself that time to relax and be happy.

For the last several years I've been reading feverishly about India, as much as I can get my hands on. I think I might do a few posts on this subject. If you're looking for something to read, why not try these:

Inhaling the Mahatma by Christopher Kremmer
I particularly liked this book because it delves into the heart of the politics of India much more deeply than William Dalrymple does in his books about India. Kremmer spent many years in India as a correspondent for the Sydney Morning Herald. In Inhaling the Mahatma he travels the country, talking to the movers and shakers of Indian politics as well as poor rural farmers in the countryside. You'll be surprised at how literal the title of the book actually is.

A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth
I first read this book when I was in London. All these wankers would be on the tube reading Harry Potter - slim little diddies. I would bring out this monster of a doorstop and watch all the jaws drop. It is an exceedingly long novel - 1471 pages. One of the longest ever written apparently. And the plot of the novel essentially revolves around the finding of a suitable boy for our heroine, Lata, to marry. In this journey we get to see many sides of the post-independence India and a real peek into how modern India was formed - warts and all. Pick it up and lose yourself. I felt a profound sense of loss when I finally finished it.

2008-06-26T11:16:00.002+04:00

Sorry I haven't been posting much. There has been much movement in my life these last few weeks, lots of changes and mind-shifts, which I wanted to let take their course until I seriously blogged again.

Don't worry, it's nothing really serious, and infact almost all of it is good. The end of uni has been great. I was expecting some sort of serious release, some rush of happiness, but that hasn't really been the case. I've sort of eased into all the extra time of my hands, but have been kept busy with other errands etc. Suffice to say that I'm happy that the degree is over. I don't get my marks until mid-July but I'm sure they are fine.

So, what next? Many great things. After obsessing, scheming, dreaming and plotting, I have finally managed to get myself some time in Inda. Not just some time. A quite respectable amount of time - 2 months. That's right. Two months in India baby! Woooooohoooooo! I arrive in Delhi August 1 and don't leave until the very start of October. I'll take in the North/West of the country (Delhi, Amritsar, Dharamsala, Rishikesh), Varanasi and then all through Rajasthan (Udaipur, Jaipur, Jaisalmer, Bundi etc). I am excited beyond belief. Finally I am back on the road again sans keys and with nothing but a backpack. (I must note here that I do have a friend in Delhi who has been a great support - it's lovely having such a support structure available to me in such a country).

What then? Well, it looks like it's actually back to Canada believe it or not. 14 years after I left it, I will be returning to my home city of Vancouver for a period of about 18 months. It's to work on a special project, but for me it will be about finally being an adult in my home city and being close to friends and family. I think it will be a good time to return - but I don't expect the move to be permanent. I will take all that I can from it though and appreciate the opportunity to go back and experience the West Coast.

So yes, many changes. I'm in the process of selling everything I own and packing up my life of 6 years or so in Australia. I am not sad. Usually I do not like such upheaval in my life but I am calm and I am centered.

It is time for a change.