Everything you’ve heard about India is true, and nothing you’ve heard about India is true: the poverty, the palaces, the traffic, the smells, the riches, the sacred sites, the press of humanity, the profusion of animals, all make for a collision of extremes that’s astonishing, maddening, and exhilarating. We saw beggars, hucksters, brahmins, sadhus, gurus, sari-clad beauties, cows, water buffaloes, goats, monkeys, elephants, camels, donkeys, chickens, pigs, dogs, cats, pheasants, parrots – and that was just the hotel lobby. As Allison said, it makes a lot of sense that meditation developed in India, because the only place to have peace and quiet would be inside oneself. Still, this was our second trip to India, and already I’d like to take three more, or maybe four . . . last time it was South India, so this time we headed North, to the great shrines for Hindu, Muslim, Buddhist, and Tourist pilgrims.

New Delhi
The capitol of a nation with 1.1 billion people, by far the world’s largest democracy, New Delhi is of course sprawling and chaotic, and perhaps not unrelentingly charming – but it has some unique sights, and I don’t just mean the lane-markings on the roads (the only ones we saw in the country, I think). We saw the Lal Qila, or Red Fort, built by the Mughal Emperors. The Mughals were Muslims who conquered large parts of India starting in the 14th C., and held much of it until “the Britishers” stole it in the mid-19th C. Some of them, like Akbar the Great, fostered religious tolerance and got along with Hindus, Parsees, Jains, Buddhists, a few Christians, and the two Jewish guys. Unfortunately some of them were a bit crankier, and the religious tension still exists. But back to our story . . .

We took a cycle rickshaw through the streets of Old Delhi (video) to get to the Jama Masjid, built in 1656 -- it's still the largest mosque in Asia.

It was inspiring to see the Raj Ghat, a memorial on the site where Mohandas Gandhi, the great champion of freedom and non-violence, was cremated in 1948, and it was funny (both strange and ha-ha) to see families arguing over positioning for photos in front of the eternal flame.

Briefly we buzzed along the Rajpath, sort of the Pennsylvania Avenue of Delhi, to see Parliament House, the war memorial India Gate, and the President’s Palace (where a monkey was crossing the front yard). The Rajpath definitely has the best traffic in India. Political Fun Facts: the President is Pratibha Patil (a woman leader? Golly!) The Prime Minister is Manmohan Singh, a Sikh chosen by Sonia Gandhi, leader of the Congress Party, and an Italian-born Catholic (an immigrant leader? Golly!). She’s the widow of Rajiv Gandhi, who was the son of Indira Gandhi, who was the daughter of Jawaharlal Nehru. Sonia, Rajiv and Indira are no relation to the Mahatma, M.K. Gandhi. Got all that? (And you thought we had it rough with the Bush/Clinton/Kennedy clans.)

Delhi also has Humayan’s Tomb (Humayan, a Moghul emperor, is not to be confused with Hanuman, the monkey god. I did this once. Once.) The Tomb is the architectural forerunner of the Taj Mahal – and not even remotely as well-maintained or preserved, but it’s still fascinating. Our last Delhi sight was the impressive Qutb Minar, a 238-foot high stone tower built in the 12th C. At its base stands the first mosque built in India.

Agra
That night we drove to Agra, passing by the Tomb of Akbar the Great at Sikindra in a near-blur (sorry, Akbar). We woke up very early to see the Granddaddy of all tourist sights, the Taj Mahal. It’s such a cliché that you almost expect to be disappointed, but it’s so stunning that you’re not; it somehow manages to justify all the hype. Built by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan as a memorial to his beloved Queen Mumtaz (his favorite wife), it’s exquisite, audacious, impossibly indulgent – a tremendous tribute to both love and excess. It knocked us out to see it, as we celebrated Allison’s 40th birthday in fine style. On a lark, to celebrate her birthday we took some glamorous Bollywood style shots at the Taj, too.

Shah Jahan, by the way, spent the last seven years of his life locked up in Agra Fort, where he could only look out over the Jamuna River and admire the Taj in the distance, having been imprisoned by his own son. Now there’s a cautionary tale for ya. At least he had the Pearl Mosque to console himself with.

Over a delicious meal of thalis, we caught a cheesy puppet show (video) with musical accompaniment – Frere Jaques, Volare, and the Macarena on Indian instruments. We bought a puppet for 400 rupees, about ten bucks, and soon learned the going rate is one or two hundred. But hey, being scammed is just part of the fun, right? We were comtributing to the local economy.

Speaking of contributing to the economy -- an eternal law of the universe is that there is always, always a "silk factory" (or craft workshop, or carpet museum) to visit on every stop along the way on a tour of India. These thinly veiled buying opportunities can actually be fun, though, if you don't sweat them, and sometimes we learn new things, like how inlaid stonework (video)is made.

Leaving Agra, we stopped at nearby Fatehpur Sikri, a bizarre, beautiful “abandoned city” that combines Muslim, Hindu, and Jain architecture. Here we were passing out pens to some little kids (they love ’em, I swear), and an old guy of at least 80 got in line for his pen. Sure, little fella, here you go!


Jaipur
They call Jaipur the “Pink City,” but it’s really more terra cotta. The highlight of our visit to Jaipur’s Amber Fort was definitely the elephant ride from the foothills up to the fort ramparts. Aside from the photos we took, freelance photographers were shooting pictures of us on spec, looking like maharaja and maharani -- we bought a few of these, and then to my horror I realized I was wearing the worst possible combo of flooder pants and short socks imaginable. Check out the least stylish elephant rider ever, it's good for a laugh. We queued (American translation – “lined up”) for nearly an hour for our elephant, trapped with the other tourists as the hawkers descended on us in a feeding frenzy on par with paparazzi at a Brittany Spears court appearance. (No, for the 47th time, I really, really don’t want the plastic turban.) The ride was worth it, though. The Fort, with its Palace of Mirrors and its sweeping views, was cool to see, too.

Briefly passing the gate of the Hawa Mahal or Palace of Winds (the inside is closed for repairs, but check out the snake charmers on the sidewalk outside), we went to the City Palace and its museum, and the neighboring, awesome (to me, anyway) observatory, built hundreds of years ago by Jaipur’s founder, Jai Singh. At first it looks like a weird collection of giant abstract sculptures, but it’s really a laboratory of huge instruments used by medieval scholars to study the position of the sun, stars, and planets. I liked it so much I bought the book. These people just see me comin’ . . .

That reminds me -- Jaipur had plenty of"silk factories," like this fabric shop where we learned how to do block printing (video)-- and got a table cloth AND a bedspread, and also a carpet workshop (video) where, thankfully, we resisted.

Jodhpur
Our next stop was Jodhpur – you know, where the pants come from. It’s known as the “Blue City,” and it’s really lovely, dappled all over with indigo-blue houses. We saw the royal crematorium (much cooler than it sounds), and the Mehrangarh Fort and museum with intricate glass and stonework, and miniature paintings. And, I got a great new polo hat, which you cannot borrow. We strolled down the hill through town, admiring the blue buildings and Krishna's little red footprints.

Leaving Jodhpur, on the road to Udaipur, we stopped off at the Jain Temple in Ranakpur. We thought this would be a quickie, but we were amazed by this stunning 15th C. temple, still active and incredibly well-preserved, with 1,444 carved marble pillars, no two alike. If this place were in Agra or Delhi, it would be nearly as famous as the Taj Mahal, but it’s in the middle of nowhere, and thus wonderfully peaceful. The Jains, by the way, are the people with such reverence for life that many of them will brush aside insects in their path to spare their lives.

Udaipur
Udaipur is justifiably famous as the “City of Lakes,” one of the most picturesque and romantic cities in the world (and remember, I’m from Des Plaines, so my standards are high). At the Sahelion-Ki-Bari, or Garden of the Maids, our guide duped us into believing that the fountains started when commanded by our claps (just like the Clapper, remember?). Actually we just woke up the guy sleeping next to the button, but it was really funny. We checked out the folk museum and made up 50% of the audience for the puppet show (video). Our guide and one Japanese guy were the other 50%. But as you might recall, I’m a sucker for puppets, and this one was better than the restaurant version in Agra.

Then we took a little cruise around Lake Pichola, a highlight of Udaipur. We circled the famous Lake Palace, (video) which seems to rise up directly from the lake (it’s actually on a Palace-sized and Palace-shaped island), and stopped on Jag Mandir Island (where they shot Octopussy, as everyone in Udaipur will tell you) for some lovely, overpriced refreshments, taking lots of pictures and shooting video like we were Coppola on the set of Apocalypse Now. Sadly, the video is not yet available for this -- we're struggling to work out the nuances of our new camera. (I wonder if that's what Coppola said? Probably not.) After the cruise we visited the City Palace and museum on the shore of the lake. The courtyards, fountains, and gardens are beautiful, and they couldn’t have a better location.

Varanasi
From Udaipur we caught a flight to Varanasi. OK, actually we had to fly to Delhi, hole up in a dumpy hotel next to the airport where we cringed beneath stained sheets and ate cheese from a can in the alledged "dining room" before flying to Varanasi the next day. But such connections are part of the price you pay for the wonderful package that is India, and Varanasi is truly a sight to behold.


Varanasi (once called Benares by the “Britishers”) is considered the oldest living city on the planet. It’s at least 5,000 years old, probably much older (according to some historians, and/or judging from the roads). Like Mecca for Muslims or Jerusalem for Christians and Jews, Varanasi is the city of holy pilgrimage for Hindus. It’s where Shiva created the River Ganges, the Mother of Rivers, and the devout come here to wash away their sins. Allison and I just took a nice shower at the hotel (much better than our Delhi stopover), but we nonetheless found Varanasi incredible.

Right next to Varanasi is Sarnath, and that’s actually where we began our visit. Sarnath is where the Buddha preached his first sermon after achieving enlightenment under the Bodhi tree at Bodhgaya. He came here to reveal the eightfold path to Nirvana, and the place is a great pilgrimage site for Buddhists from all over the world. There’s a giant stone stupa surrounded by the ruins of a monastery that are still being uncovered by archeologists. The museum here is probably the best one we saw – it contains the famous four-headed stone lion that’s a symbol of India (photography was prohibited inside, but it’s on all the rupee banknotes, so just check your wallets for the visuals). We also visited a Sri Lankan Buddist temple with terrific with Japenese murals, and a modest but very touching Tibetan Buddhist temple where the Dalai Lama visits when he’s in town. We got to bust out our five words of Tibetan and flash them for a surprised monk here.

That night, back in Varanasi proper, we climbed aboard a little boat and were rowed down the Ganges to a cremation ground, where several funeral pyres were burning (photography is only permitted from a respectful distance). Hindus cremate the dead to release the soul from the body. It’s considered extremely desirable to die in Varanasi, because it’s a tirtha – literally a “crossing” where mortals, gods and goddesses can move between worlds. Many hope to achieve Moksha here – the salvation of the soul from the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth.

Our little boat then rowed back to the main ghat (steps down to the river) where we watch the Ganga Fire Arti, a prayer ritual in which young Brahmin priests perform an ancient ceremony (half sacred, half Vegas in appearance) with smoke, flames, and conch shells in synchronized movements, accompanied by a drum-heavy band, and hawkers selling flowers and candles. Yes, we got some, lit them, and set them adrift on the Ganges. If you're reading this, consider yourself blessed.

The next morning at dawn, we cruised the Ganges as the sun rose, and saw the faithful taking a plunge in the river along the many different ghats; it’s a bizarre and strangely moving scene. Then we strolled through the streets of Varanasi, and we also filled a plastic water bottle of holy Ganges water that we’re bringing home with us. Sprinkles are available for the low, low price of 200 rupees. All right, for you we make special price, only 100 rupees – very good bargain!

That was the end of our tourist time in India – we flew to Silicon Valley, aka Bangalore, for a few days (and got to havedinner with Eswar, Anu, and their adorable kids Aishwarya and Aryan – hi guys! And Joy from Shanghai too!), and then home sweet home, Hong Kong. At least for a week or so, before Cambodia . . .

Hope all is well with you, blogees. Let us know. Our little “bean” is growing, and we have a 20-week ultrasound scan coming up soon. All best thoughts from David and Allison.