The End

Okay, I'm not doing anything blogworthy here so I think it's time to put this site to rest. I've been lounging around my parents' postage stamp sized studio apartment in Manhattan with my sister and her boyfriend. She's got a journalism internship, he's working on a new CD, and they both wait tables at a Turkish restaurant. I get lost on the subway a lot. I've been trying to find yoga studios and am reading all the instructional books I got in Rishikesh so when school starts I'll be ready to teach my own classes at the rec center (which you should take).

Anyway, things will probably either stay like this, which is not terribly interesting, or I'll come back to VA, which is also not terribly interesting. But don't worry, if I ever start doing anything interesting again I'll make a new blog and let you know right away.

I'm Back

My flight landed in JFK New York Airport this evening and I'm currently at the apartment, wrestling with a good 9 or 10 hours of jet leg. The weather is a hell of a lot more reasonable here though, and the familiarity of it all puts me at ease.

It's good to be back in the U.S., but it begs the question of what to do with this blog. I'm thinking it may have to be retired until my next international adventure. I dunno, maybe there will be blogworthy stuff here in the Big Apple. I've may spend a few weeks here before heading back to the 'burg. I guess we'll see how things go. Anyway, seeing as I'm in the continent, lemme know if you wanna chill.

Desert Safari

I finally got to see some desert today. The first event was dune bashing, a.k.a. letting basically all the air out of your tires so you at least have SOME traction on the sand and racing up and down huge dunes in a 4WD. It's quite popular here and the dunes are all covered in tire tracks to spoil all my photos. It feels like being in those cheesy car commercials where they drive big SUVs around on exotic terrain to show how rugged and manly you'll feel if you buy it. You feel less manly when the car breaks down though. I also got some quick camel riding in. They're a lot larger than I thought they were, and hanging on while they stand up and sit down can be tricky. They're very cool animals though and they're a lot less unwieldy than the elephants. None of them had wood which was disappointing. I guess I'm just more arousing to elephants than to camels. Then it was time for dinner and the belly dancer. She was pretty good and actually managed to pressure some audience members into participating (I think the bar was a factor in this). There were lots of white, pudgy bellies (including mine) wobbling about in a very unsexy fashion. A few Swiss-German backpacker girls went up as a group and were actually able to shake up something tasty, especially when props were incorporated, but other than that the crowd was pretty pathetic, as is to be expected. Strange that a culture so protective of its women would allow a dance this blatantly sexual to be performed.

Head Count

I realized this blog was set up to only allow comments from people with blogger accounts, which I'm hoping is the reason why nobody comments. Anyway, that's fixed now, and I'd like to know how many people actually read this. You don't even have to give your name, I just want to know my readership size. Please?

Towering Achievement

Dubai is like a game of Sim City with cheat codes. It's estimated that 20% of the world's stationary cranes (the ones used for tall buildings) are in Dubai and it's easy to tell driving down Sheik Zayed Road where there are literally hundreds of skyscrapers under construction. Burj Dubai, the tallest building in the world, clocks in at 141 stories and there are three stationary cranes on top working on another twenty. What makes everything so striking though is it's all been built in the past few decades so everything's ultramodern and flashy. Adding to the atmosphere is a very subtle hint of arabian influence in the architecture.

The iconic Burj al-Arab's design was inspired by traditional Arabian sailing ships called dhows, and with a desert backdrop as well as a coastline, the landscape is striking in a very futuristic, almost alien way. The reason is because of Middle Eastern oil money and prudent management by the Al-Maktoum family, which has produced a life of luxury for the allegedly anti-materialistic Muslim rulers. You can find Emirati women in full burqa sporting several thousand dollar watches here. These men came by to pick up the latest iPod, possibly on their way to the in-mall mosque for afternoon prayer.

The woman helping them is an asian migrant worker, and being both asian and a woman makes her almost as much a product for sale as the iPods. I met female migrant worker and she painted a pretty grim picture of the situation. It's apparently quite common for Arab men in flashy cars to pull up next to foreign girls and flat out proposition them. It's like sampling ethnic food; they just want a taste of Indonesian women, Malaysian women, Chinese women, etc. Furthermore, as non-citizens (even for those born here), they have few if any rights. Work visas can be revoked quite easily and there's a 100 durham a day fine for being here illegally. There are no worker's rights or unions and sometimes jobs are simply taken to be given to full blooded Emiratis---who do not seem to understand how to take direction and therefore are frequently incompetent.

On the one hand the place is super-westernized and modern and on the other it's still ultra-conservative and backward. You can get your kid a McArabia meal at the megamall while using a wifi hotspot without access to websites like Orkut (a popular asian social networking site like Myspace) because of censorship. It will be very interesting to see what it's like here in a few decades.

The general feeling seems to be that the Arabs do not want permanent dependence on foreign labor. If they did, maybe they'd give them citizenship. All expats are simply hired help, and eventually they will finish their jobs and go home. This is impractical, however, as there simply aren't enough Emiratis (who constitute less than 20% of the population) to fill all the lower level positions even if they were willing to, which they aren't.

Dubai Days

The first thing you notice about Dubai when you show up in late July is that it is STUPID hot. Like, a hundred and twenty degrees. And with a sixty or seventy pound backpack to lug around that can be a real drag. However, now that I'm in Ethan's palatial studio apartment and have somewhere safe to leave my things, I think I'll be able to handle the heat. I got some good practice in Delhi where temperatures were similar.

The second thing you notice is the architecture. There are huge skyscrapers and ancient forts side by side, patches of desert sand next to huge highways. It's the same with the people. This seems to reflect the culture as well. There are women in burkas and masks walking around next to women in miniskirts with bare midriffs. I don't know much about the country yet but it is certainly interesting enough to be worth learning. Hopefully I will have more insights tomorrow.

Take a Hike

People in Rishikesh are gearing up for a major festival. I don't know much about it but I noticed there were people all over town selling blue plastic bottles and asked my pranayam teacher about it. He said people come from villages all over the area, sometimes walking hundreds of kilometers, and take water from the Ganga to bring home to local temples. Some of them actually go by prostrating, marking where their hands touch, standing on the mark, and prostrating again.

Today's my last day in India and I'll miss it. There's so much I haven't seen and done here yet. Then again, it would take forever to see it all, and it's not like I'm going home just yet. I'll take the overnight train to Delhi and from there I'm off to Dubai for a few days, where internet access not be readily available. I'll apologize in advance in case I can't update.

Ganga Mornings

I've been waking up hell of early since being in Rishikesh and I'm starting to like it. Today I got up at 5:30 am and went to morning meditation in the ashram basement with a few other westerners. When I came back outside the whole landscape was laced with mist. The Ganges even had its own stream of fog flowing over it, though this street sweeper seemed disinterested.

At sundown I went to check out the Ganga Aarti, which had a lot less pomp and circumstance than the one in Varanasi and was conducted by Brahmin children. However, the most interesting part was the sprawling temple across from the Ghats (stairs leading down to the Ganga). There were loads of statues, many of which were quite striking.

Piles of coin offerings laid next to better liked deities. It was interesting to see which gods got the most: a sort of Divine Idol contest. I was surprised to see Shiva (above) didn't win, given most Hindus here are Shaivite. Krishna (left) was probably the most popular, followed by some Tamil gods I didn't recognize.

Delishikesh

Today I learned how to make kichari (good for indigestion and delhi-belly, which is WAY useful here) and chapati. Like in any good cooking class, we got to eat it afterwards and it was TASTEY. My diet here can only be described as 'off the chain.' Here are some fruit and vegetable carts a few minutes walk from my ashram in Shivanand Jhula. They've spoiled me every day I've been here and it'll be hard to go back to storebought produce. I think I'll have to actually wake up for the farmer's market now, especially for Ayurvedic cooking ingredients. Hopefully I'll be needing them as I've picked up a few cookbooks with the intention of getting good at this.

In other news, I've finished my Reiki training, yes! Here is a picture of me meditating on my belly full of kichari after the Reiki initiation ceremony, just before I take prasad (eating the blessed fruit offerings of puja).

RishiCashMoney

The sleepless bus got in to Rishikesh at around 4am and I groggily helped a couple Korean backpackers make it to a good hotel safely. They had only been in India for a few weeks and were super grateful and nice. They even bought me some fruit as a thank you present and invited me to dinner, where they insisted on having pictures not only of the food, but of them posing with the food. Their cameras were full of pictures of people, and they seemed almost surprised to see mine full only of pictures of India.

Rishikesh is hands down my favorite place in India right now. It's a lot like Varanasi, only cleaner, quieter, less crowded, more authentically spiritual, and less debilitated by poverty---at least on the eastern side of the Ganges where all the ashrams are. There are cheap eats (pure veg only) all over, sadhus on every corner, and yoga classes galore.

All the best courses are mad pricey though, because Rishikesh is THE place to study. Like, actually a really big deal. There are classes on other things too, like pranayam, reiki, and ayurvedic cooking. I think I'm gonna have to drop a couple hundo on it. It would cost a hell of a lot more in the U.S., and I'll probably never get another chance.

Trouble in Nepal

I spent the last two days in transit because I decided to go the discount route and bus to Rishikesh (yoga capital of the world). Somebody snagged my cell phone and this time there's no chance of getting it back. I am also pretty peeved about there NOT BEING ANY BANKS IN NEPAL. WTF. I literally ran out of money and had to borrow a few bucks from a friend I met on the bus just to get to Rishikesh.

Anyway, despite me being really pissed off at Nepal right now, it's actually a pretty interesting country. Here's the breakdown. It's divided into three parts: the mountains, the hills, and the plains. Kathmandu valley is in the hilly part, as is most of the money and education. The Madhesi people who live in the Terai (flat part) are pissed off because they pay high taxes and the money goes to Kathmandu. Farmers rack up huge debts and frequently commit suicide or sell their daughters into prostitution in India (Nepalese virgins go for huge sums of money because having sex with a virgin is said to cure AIDS).

It is in these circumstances that the corrupt communist Naxalites---a Maoist group known for acts of terrorism like abduction and murder of bureaucrats from the hills---are able to thrive on prejudice against hill people, calls for an independent state, and promises of lower taxes. Their tactics have made the Terai region quite dangerous and have done very little to improve the lives of the Madhesis, who frequently migrate to places like Bangladesh for education and work. Here they face yet more prejudice. The college kid who loaned me money was born and raised in India but is legally Nepali and doesn't tell his friends about it because "they would dominate [him]."

And yet the country is one of the most stunningly beautiful places I've ever been. They have some of the best trekking in the world too (including Mount Everest). Hopefully one day I'll go back, after the Raja has been deposed and a proper government has been formed. For now I'm glad to be gone though.

Kickin' it in Kathmandu

I dropped twenty bucks on a trekking guide named Indra and went hiking to the top of Nagarjun (snake head) mountain today, about 600 meters above Kathmandu valley. There’s a Buddhist temple up there and while we were taking in the view from the top, a Nepali military patrol rolled up. There was an officer with them, Major Shah, who offered to take us for a jeep ride to another good viewpoint. I asked him about religion on the ride and he told me (off the record) that the communists here pretend to be secular but they celebrate Hindu holidays.

Afterwards, Indra bought me lunch (buffalo steamed momos) and took me out to Durbar Square for some sightseeing. I bought a well worn traditional Gurkha dagger called a Kukri from a sweet little Nepali girl named Sharnita (or something like that) in the bazaar and clicked some more pictures. On the way back to Kathmandu Guesthouse where he works and I stay, we stopped at a music shop in Thamel and I picked up a Nepali CD on Indra’s recommendation. Maybe I'll post a track if it's good.

Subsistence

I bought a bus ticket to Kathmandu and left this morning. The monsoon is starting here, and the ride through rural Nepal was very interesting. Because the primarily agricultural country is still pretty backward thanks to the incompetence of the king, there isn’t any irrigation technology and everyone has to start planting whenever the rains come. As a result, everyone was out with their buffalos and their plow-looking things, doing whatever the hell farmers do.

In the hilly region of Nepal, the farmers have to cut little staircase looking shelves into the land so there are flat parts to grow rice in. Each plot has raised edges to trap pools of water out of which tall and super green grass grows. I’m pretty sure that somehow becomes rice. Anyhow, it looks pretty neat when the rain stops long enough to actually see it in the light.

After seeing how it's grown, I was disappointed to find Nepali cuisine rather dull. It's basically just rice, dhal, vegetable curry, and maybe some meat. I had the buffalo meat with some rice it may have helped plant. It tasted like cow meat but chewier and less blasphemous.

Hello Buddha

Yesterday I crossed the border to Lumbini in Nepal, the birthplace of the Buddha. The place is old as sin. There were tons of monastery ruins dating back to B.C.E. and thousands of tattered prayer flags. Apparently the Buddha knew that after his death people would want to make pilgrimages to his birthplace (below) and somehow it was arranged for there to be a marker stone on the exact spot he was born.

I stayed for free at the Korean Monastery on the recommendation of a South Korean girl named Ashok who I shared a taxi with. It was one of many truly stunning Buddhist temples identified by the nationality of its builders, just like in Kusinagar. Unfortunately, though, I didn’t wake up in time for morning meditation (4am) or even breakfast (5am) with the monks.

YES!

I got the camera back!!! For free!!! I think the guy who found it figured I wasn't coming back so he took it home. Below is a picture he must've taken. When I called asking for it he figured out who I was, pretended there was a bad connection, and hung up. When I called back, his boss answered and had no idea what had happened. I kept trying to offer baksheesh (bribe money) and he was just sort of put off.

The culprit came back with the camera, telling his boss he'd just found it, and the boss filed a police report. Anyway, after filling out some paperwork and providing a passport photocopy, I'm back in blogging business!

Note: The picture looks to have been taken in one of the villages outside Gorakhpur. Lots of people commute from here because housing is cheaper. And yes, that kid is naked. Indian children here rock out with their cocks out pretty frequently, especially in the villages. I think a lot of them just don't own clothing.

FUCK

I think my camera was stolen in a cybercafe Gorakhpur. If I cancel my ticket to Patna and go back there I may be able to get it back (for a very large fee) but there are no guarantees. This is basically the shittiest thing ever. It has about a week's worth of pictures on it / is fucking expensive.

Bye Bye Buddha

"All component things in the world are changeable. They are not lasting. Work hard to gain your own salvation."

-Last Words of Gautama Buddha

I took a day trip to Kushinagar today and visited the site where the Buddha died (left) and was cremated (right). It's the off season and well over a hundred degees out so there weren't any pilgrims about and town was a heck of a lot more peaceful than Varanasi. The only people there were Hindus on field trips, hanging out in the park, or actually making offerings to the Reclining Buddha statue (below) as though the Buddha were a Hindu God.

The area is also home to a plethora of Buddhist temples, each with its own ethnically distinctive architecture, which people refer to by the nationality of their builders. The Japanese temple (below), which was the best cared for and best attended, is particularly stunning. I watched the gardeners trimming all the interestingly shaped hedges to Japanese perfection while field-trippers watched me sweating out a puddle in the July heat---no one in Kushinagar was descrete about being fascinated by foreigners and I was the only one around to gawk at.

Lovely Lassi

Lassi is a popular Indian yogurty beverage from the Punjab region which is a delicious and nutritious alternative to the water, which is obviously not an option. I'd been enjoying it without any idea how it is prepared though, so when this adorable little boy offered to make me some for 5 rupees, I jumped at the chance.

I didn't get to see how it was made because after I revealed my camera I had to take pictures of half a dozen other adorable children. It was delicious though, and came in a cute little clay pot which is the Varanasi equivalent of disposable cups. They litter the streets but I think they're biodegratable and I know they're fun to step on.

When in Rome...

A lot of people have asked me if I have or am planning on bathing in the Ganga, seeing as it has the power to wash away all sin. The answer, in short, is no. The Ganges river is by far the mankiest body of water I've ever seen. People dump all manner of waste in it, from toxic chemicals produced by the leather industry to raw sewage. The fecal coliform bacteria count is three thousand times the maximum regulation levels.

Above is a picture of a young boy wrapped in yellow fabric floating down the river with a clump of garbage. Below is a picture of boy diving (albeit poorly) into that same river, in which he will pray, bathe, and drink.

The Luminous

Varanasi, the religious heart of India, is rife with fascinating spiritual practices. There are Sadhus (Shaivite ascetic beggars) wandering from temple to ubiquitous temple and in places the sound of bells and drums are actually louder than the sound of honking horns. The most interesting part of the city, the older part, is located right where major tributaries form the Ganges, which is said to flow directly from the crown of Shiva's head.

The ghats, or stairs leading down to the water, lie just beyond the maze of arms-length wide alleys I've been totally unable to navigate. People come here to bathe in the mindbogglingly polluted holy water which can wash away all sin. There are also several burning ghats where funeral pyres burn. Those who are cremated here immediately attain nirvana.

I went to check them out after watching the elaborate nightly ganga aarti ceremony (pictured) and was shocked by how nonchalant everyone was. The family members seemed oddly unphased, and although pictures weren't allowed, no one cared how close foreigners got to the pyres.

Apparently sometimes the bodies don't burn completely---it's very difficult to know how much of the very expensive wood is necessary and people pay by the log---and are simply thrown into the river. Maybe people don't grieve as much when they know the person will attain moksha. Then again, female family members aren't allowed to come for fear they will commit sati, self immolation on their husband's funeral pyre.

Number One Wonder

I met a French Canadian on the bus named Rachel who works for an NGO (non-government association, usually social services) in Delhi. Her plan was to catch a train to Varanasi instead of coming back with the bus and I decided to tag along. We split off from the main group and took some pretty killer pictures at the Taj Mahal.

Everybody from Agra is pretty excited because some newspaper ranked the Taj Mahal as the number one wonder of the world. They were all quick to brag and tell fanciful stories about it. One legend tells that the Taj Mahal was built by a mogul king whose main wife died and who wanted her tomb be as spectacular as their love. He thought the architect needed to know his sorrow to build it properly though so he had the man's wife beheaded.

Speaking of violence, I think there may be concern about Hindu fanatical terrorism. Security was pretty tight and they made Rachel leave her backpack in a locker outside. There haven't been any attempts as far as know but the place is a mosque and people actually worship here. Some playing cards in my bag were even confiscated because (I'm assuming this is why) they're used for gambling.

New Friends

Indian buses range from full to packed like a sardine can, but with less ventilation. I was on my way to Qutub Minar in one of these mobile hell holes, asking around to find out exactly which incomplete stop was the one I needed, when I met a very helpful man named Nashin (right). He decided to come sightseeing with me and invited me into his home for a delicious lunch with his brother Basu (left) who works as a hotel chef.

The decidedly middle class pair speak excellent English and are a lot of fun, especially with their insights on life in India for the average joe. They're super friendly and even invited me to a family party in Bihar to celebrate Basu's upcoming wedding. We stayed up almost all night with their two roommates who all work late in the hotel industry---they share a cozy but cramped one bedroom apartment and whoever gets off work first gets the bed---and then I checked out of my guesthouse and groggily caught the 6 am bus to Agra.

Dry Delhi

The rains still haven't made it to Delhi yet and the people I've talked to about it are all a little confused. It's a nice change of pace for me though, and it makes for much better pictures. I got a few pretty good shots at Humayun's Tomb today because of it. There was a heavy shower this evening in the rickshaw ride back to Paharganj and I thought my luck had run out but it stopped after about two minutes. If this lasts another day I should be able to click some decent photos at the Red Fort, which is supposed to be quite striking.

I just wish I could play a few rounds of ninja capture the flag in some of these Indian ruins. Somebody should at least make a counterstrike map out of them or something. The buildings are loaded with great places to snipe.

Note: In India you don't take pictures, you click them. I wonder where else this is the case.

7th of July

I met up with my friend Ed, a Brazilian backpacker I met in Mumbai, and we rented a car and driver to go sightseeing in. We saw the parliament building and the India Gate, a bazaar where I got a bangin' dress shirt for 4 dollars, and an abandoned building which has been completely taken over by monkeys. We also checked out the Lotus Temple, a temple of the Baha'i faith which teaches that religion has to evolve to suit the needs of the times. They read and sing from all religious texts and the echoes off the petal shaped walls give a very otherworldly feel to the service.

I headed over to the hamburger-laden Independence Day celebration at around seven to meet up with Neah and Gordon. Most people there were drunk rich Americans and their fat kids but there were a few twenty-somethings who work for the embassy or lobbying groups and such things. We stuck with them and ended up going out dancing, which I was of course much stoked on. I lost track of Neah and Gordon but ended up in the VIP section of some hellafancy nightclub by tagging along with an African ambassador's daughter. After too many drinks and not enough dancing, I drunkenly rickshawed back to my room to sleep off the impending hangover.

We Fly High

I got picked up by a Bollywood casting agent---he's the one in the green shirt---who was looking for Angrez (westerner) kids to be in some photo shoot or something. They bought me a desperately needed trim and shave only to find out I can't do it because they're shooting after I leave for Delhi. I'd change my ticket but I have to get to the U.S. Embassy on the 7th and meet up with some American friends at a Fourth of July weekend party that we're all RSVPed for. So basically I'm a fuckin' balla.

Indian Theatre

I went to see a play last night called Confessions. It was very dark comedy and entirely in English, although put together completely by Indians. On the whole it was a pretty good show but most of the actors were nothing special and the lighting scheme was thematically appropriate but poorly designed.

Anyway, the interesting part was that I ended up sitting next to a Bollywood actor couple from some national TV series. The woman left at intermission, apparently rather unimpressed by the show. The man stayed till the end "for the learning experience" and muttered 'good ending' when it finished (quite rightly) but seemed like kind of a dick.

Doin' It Pose

Unfortunately, in order to get into the Iyengar Institute classes you need eight years experience and reservations one year in advance. There's another place that's much more famous here called the Osho Ashram, but it's hugely expensive and you need to take an HIV test on arrival. I talked to an Italian backpacker named Annalisa who had been there about it.

Apparently Osho, the highly controversial founding guru, taught sexual liberation as a means to spiritual realization and got quite popular in the west for it. Now lots of hippies and high-powered businesspeople come to the commune and hook up. I figure I'll check out the public meditation garden, but the hell I'm gonna drop 1530 rupees on that sketch-fest. I can eat for at least a week on cash that thick.

Train to Pune

I met a bunch of people on the train to Pune, the most interesting of whom was a sixteen year old whose dad wanted him to practice English with me. The conversation was pretty boring and generic until I asked him if he had a girlfriend. His father was right there so he said no, nobody dates in India. Marriages are arranged by the parents once a man has 22 years and is earning good money. Most people use matrimony sites, which are basically dating sites but they take into consideration caste and astrological compatibility (which explains the plethora of matrimony site popup ads on public computers here).

I asked if there was ever any premarital sex once his dad had gone and he said yes, and there is dating, but you can't talk about it in front of parents. I got the feeling his father was particularly strict though. The whole conversation made me really want to get to Pune where I can run into some college kids and find out what life is like here for people my own age.

Planz

Right now I'm in an internet cafe near Neah's family condo in Benaulim. Tomorrow afternoon I leave for Pune (Poona) where B.K.S. Iyengar teaches. B.K.S. Iyengar is the person credited with popularizing Hatha Yoga in the West, and Iyengar yoga is the style. Unfortunately he's stopped teaching since he's 88, but I hope to take an Iyengar style yoga class or two there before I get back on the train and head up to Mumbai on my way to Delhi.

Note: I think I may have forgotten to mention that Mumbai and Bombay are the same place. As part of the Indian Nationalist movement, many place names are being changed to sound more Indian. This gets very confusing at times---especially when it comes to streets---because sometimes people still use the anglicized versions, and maps usually only list the official names for everything.

Hindi Music Part 1

One of the mainstays of the Bollywood movie industry is soundtrack sales. Bollywood singers are famous in their own right and the songs are ubiquitous here. Whenever I ask people what they're listening to on their mp3 players their response is almost invariably one of these soundtracks. Here’s a track from a pretty popular movie called Metro.

01 In Dino - Soham...

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The program is over

Tomorrow everyone leaves Goa but me and Neah. We’re going to Candolim where her family owns a condo. Goodbyes haven’t started just yet because people are wrapping up papers and projects for class but you can feel it coming. I wonder how many of these kids will keep in touch.

For me it’s not so sad though. I’m starting the part of the trip I was most looking forward to: the unsupervised part.

Zoroastrian Burial Rites

Mumbai has the highest Parsi population anywhere in India. Because of this there are lots of agiaries, or fire temples, easily distinguishable by the winged lion gargoyles which guard their doors. These aren’t the only Zoroastrian buildings in the city though. Hidden in the forest below the Hanging Gardens is the Tower of Silence. This is where the Parsi dead are laid out to be eaten by scavenger birds. Only the faithful are allowed to come but the vultures can be seen circling from a distance.

Evil Eyes

A lot of people in India believe that when certain people give compliments, bad things happen to whoever receives it. These people are said to have the evil eye. It’s not necessarily even intentional, but for whatever reason misfortune always follows these people’s kind words.

That’s why lots of parents will put black face paint on their babies. This makes people less likely to call their children cute. Also, the black spots can potentially absorb the power of the evil eye. Alternatively, there are rituals that can be performed to cleanse people of its negative effects.

Low Court

We went to the High Court of Mumbai and I asked a lawyer if we were allowed into the courtrooms and he said yes so I decided to sit in on a case. Everybody was wearing judge-like robes, even the defendants. Although everything was conducted in English I had a hard time understanding the debate but afterwards I talked to the plaintiff and she explained what the case was about.

A development corporation had bought out some slums and was going to tear them down without relocating any of the tenants and was only going to pay a fraction of just compensation. There are apparently laws against this since it’s a common problem but the defense lawyer was a former judge who was good friends with the judge deciding the case. He actually sat up at the judge’s table and they left together after the case was postponed yet again over another technicality. It sounded like it involved a petition that was submitted a day late or not properly paid for.

Victoria Terminus

Due largely to overcrowding in the city and the lack of proper housing for the poor—especially with developers buying out slums to build high-rises for the middle and upper class—lots of people sleep on the streets of Mumbai or, when it rains, under whatever overhang they can find. This sort of thing looks pretty strange against the backdrop of stunning architecture left over from the century long British Raj. The eeriest part is that this man’s ancestors could have been the very same impoverished artisans who the Empire conscripted into carving the gargoyles looking down on him.