Amiram Hayardeny's My China Experience

Trip to India: Day Five – Pushkar

Started the day at the Brahma Temple.  The one and only Brahma temple in the world.  As in other places around here, we've noticed that self appointed “guides”, “priests” and “Gurus” show up uninvited, and provide some service that you haven't asked for, nor do you know the price of.  It's a new place, you may be a little intimidated or way too polite to decline, and there you find yourself being given a lecture, in unintelligible English about Brahma.  The one word you seem to understand from the entire speech.  The undisclosed price may turn out to be hefty.  The first one of the day, though, was not.  He was a nice guy, claiming to be a “student” at the temple, and he even pointed at the general direction of his teacher, who must have been one of about fifteen similar looking people with white clothes.  Nonetheless, we enjoyed his company, and appreciated the flowers he gave us at the “give-up-your-shoes” point at the entrance.  Half the flowers, he said, are to be presented to Brahma as an offering, the rest must go to the Lake Pushkar.  We listened, but we didn't know how important the second half of the statement was.  He meant it, the flowers MUST go to the lake.

The temple, as the entire town and the people who populate it and the tourists who come to visit, is simple.  Unlike Buddhist temples which are glorious, the Hindu temples are minimalists, like the believers who frequent them.  There's something very touching in seeing people who are apparently very poor, yet happiness seem to burst from every pore of their skinny bodies.  They come in, bow down and kiss the floor, ring the bell, present their offering, and leave.  We have spent close to an hour at the Brahma temple, and every single visitor had an offering for Brahma, and a smile for us.  It was a humbling experience.

We then hit our favorite, the town bazaar.  A block away we recognized a face, which sent shivers down our spines.  It was one of our new friends from the Brahma Temple who gave us a stern reminder about the flowers, and that they must go to the lake.  A couple of blocks after that, there was our “student” with the same reminder.  After the third one, we were ready to surrender the flowers.  Apparently, this did the job, and our followers (the other meaning) disappeared.  They probably figured that a big donation will come from a different source.  No worries, though, the flowers did end up in the lake.  We wouldn't have it any other way!

We were warned that there are many temples along the lake, and that some may offer us a “Pushkar Passport” ritual, involving the reciting of some mantras, the names of your parents and grandparents, and blessing of “good health, good life, good travel, good body and good karma”.  Not sure about the order.  Anyway, we were instructed to avoid those, but like an animal walking into a trap knowingly, we did just that.  We walked in one of the temples, and immediately a Brahmin showed up and offered his services.  We followed.  Before we knew it we were sitting on a step at the edge of the lake, and he was standing in front of us with bright red and yellow colors, mixed with some rice, and he was reciting words we didn't understand, but were reciting nonetheless.  He asked for names from our family tree which we gladly provided, and some other information we didn't conceal.  He recited, and marked us with the bright colors on forehead, and tied a string of yellow and red to our hands.  At the end he suggested that a good donation would be a certain amount, and went on to offer some good rest for my grandparents, who apparently were not fed well up in heaven.  I paid for the food service as well.  All in all, we all agreed later, it was a worthwhile experience.  Some people go bungee jumping, we went to get our karmas straightened out.  I'm not making fun, I'm very serious about it.  We had a good time, it was time well spent, and if at all this improves our karma, then it was definitely a good investment!

Bazaar again, a few purchases for our home display – a nice copper jar, some face paints for Shiri, and some really nice hangers for our home.  Prices are relatively cheap, and as we understand it, mostly straight forward.  Bargaining exists, but don't expect more than twenty percent off.  China is very different that way.

Pushkar is a town of holiness.  People who come here should expect the Hindu religion with all its bright colors, simplicity, and vegetarianism.  Like India it's full of opposites: old vs. new, old vs. young, old vs. modern.  It's a strong experience for one's entire being.  All senses are attacked, physical and mental.  The smells, colors, noise, tastes and even the occasional and accidental touches, can't leave a person indifferent.  The curries and the chillies, the red and the yellow, the barks and the moos, the water and the air, and even the hand of the Brahmin from the river edge, all these leave you a different person.  Writing this paragraph, I realize that the opposite of different is indifferent.  Pushkar can't possibly leave you indifferent.  I therefore can state that someone has entered Pushkar a couple of days ago, and it's me who is leaving here tomorrow.  We are not the same person.

We went to see a Sikh temple right outside the circle around the lake.  Coming out of the temple, we saw this woman (picture up top).  I can only speculate that she was married, that her husband was next to her, and that he was very flattered that we have asked his permission to take her photo.  She smiled to the camera, and made our day.  So whoever this lady is, it's been really nice meeting you.  Keep smiling.

 
Enlightenments of the day: “Smile Therapy by Guru Hayardeny”: If you want to feel better, smile at someone, anyone.  Your own smile will open your mouth and your heart.  The smiles you'll get in return, will magnify the effect tenfold.

Posted at 11:27PM Feb 07, 2008 by Amiram Hayardeny in Personal  |  Comments[2]

Trip to India: Day Four – Khimsar Fort, Pushkar

One by one all my thoughts, beliefs and myths of India are being shattered.  As it turns out, the forts that we're seeing along the way were not built by the British while occupying India.  They were built by local kings, Rajas, who apparently were very rich and built these amazing palaces with fountains, gardens and pools.  We stopped at the fort at Nagaur, not too far from Khimsar Fort.  Frankly, like many other things, the visit was exciting and surrealistically impossible at the same time.  The fort is huge and is maintained by quite a few people who appear to be soldiers, with the uniform and all,  They will charge you 15 rupies for the visit if you're local, and 50 if you're a foreigner.  On top of that they will charge 25 rupies for each stills camera used during the visit, and 50 rupies for a video camera.  I promise you one thing, during the ninety minutes we were there, no other visitors were spotted.  We were on our own.  The juxtaposition of the market outside, poor people trying to make ends meet, and then walking inside this glorious palace, makes you think.

We then drove back to Pushkar.  Pushkar is a holy city and is the only home in the world for the God Brahma.  People from all over the world come to Pushkar to worship Brahma.  Indeed, the city is beautiful, with well over four hundred temples surrounding this small lake.

It's a long drive, and a dangerous one too.  The road is single-lane, and shared with buses, trucks, camels, other cars, humans.  On the way to Pushkar we saw a Jain nun.  She was bare feet, to avoid killing any animals while walking, her mouth covered with a white cloth – to avoid inhaling any insects, and she was carrying this big white brush.  When she gets into a situation where her only way to go would involve stepping on living things, she would use the brush to move them aside, so she can move on, while not harming the animals.  Can you imagine going to such effort to avoid taking a life.  I immediately regretted the who-knows-how-many chickens, cows, and tuna fish which I must have consumed over the years.  I'm not taking back the mosquitoes though, I hate the bastards...

We also saw women carrying water on top of their heads.  They indeed looked as if they came out of the book of Genesis when Eliezer went and chose Rebecca to be the wife of Isaac.  Our drivers informed us that most of the countryside people are literate, certainly the young ones, that they do have electric power, running water and cooking gas.  By choice they collect firewood and pump water at the local well to avoid paying.  

Our driver and tour guide dropped us off by the lake, not before warning us that some kids will try to lure us to throwing flowers into the lake while reciting some prayers for us.  This service may be pricey.  Some reported to having paid hundreds of dollars after being told that bad luck will come to them or their families if they didn't cough it up.  Around the lake, there are hundreds of shops, selling everything from clothes to religious relics and books.

Walking around the lake we realized that while we weren't watching, someone, particularly evil, had changed the country on us, and that we weren't in India anymore.  We were in Israel.  Signs everywhere advertised Israeli foods like Falafel, Hummous, Shakshuka and more, and others were offering rooms to rent, bed covers, pillows.  All in the holy language of the bible – Hebrew...  Furthermore, some of the shopkeepers started conversations with us, in Hebrew, and we overheard many around us, speaking, arguing, laughing and bargaining – all in Hebrew.  When a rickshaw driver offered me a ride, in Hebrew, I asked him why does he find it appealing to leave one place for another only to find the first place waiting for you right there.  He was surprised.  He offered that he addressed me in Hebrew because he wanted to learn the language.  I proposed that he travels to Israel.  A little on the cruel side, I know, but frankly, I don't like feeling at home when I travel.  That's exactly the reason I travel in the first place: to be away from home.

Amazingly enough, if you spot the most fanatic of devotees, wearing no shoes, with piercing everywhere obvious (and possibly a few other places), with the local clothes and some really empty look in their eyes, I promise you – they are Israelis.

The other thing that beats me, is how the hell can they tell?  We are all American, we live in China, and we're visiting in India.  How do they know that we're Israeli?  Beats me.

Pushkar is really nice, and we actually started already to collect our keepsakes: a nice copper symbol of “OM” - the three Gods.  A table cloth and a wall hanging piece, and a native dress for Shiri, whom with a Tika between her eyes, and wearing this dress will make a perfect Rajahstan native on Halloween...

Another interesting point.  When we ordered chicken for dinner we realized that no animal flesh is served in or around Pushkar.  I liked it.  I also loved the purely vegetarian dinner we had, although it did give me a heartburn.  

 
Enlightenments of the day: Old glory right next to debilitating poverty is tough on the human eye.  One doesn't have to be rich in order to be happy.  When I travel, I'd like to be away from home.

Posted at 11:26PM Feb 07, 2008 by Amiram Hayardeny in Personal  |  Comments[2]

Trip to India: Day Three – Azhmer, Khimsar Fort

04:15 wake up call.  Inhumane.  05:15 downstairs for pick-up for the train station.  Going to Ajmer.  The city is waking up, hundreds are already crowding the city buses.  In the last twenty four hours, my idea of “crowded” has changed significantly.  One hundred people on a bus in not an unusual site here, twenty on a tuk-tuk is not that rare either.

But the train station is nothing like what I've seen before.  Passengers, human and others, porters, shoeshine vendors, business people and blue collar workers, all in one big human salad racing to get a train ticket, to get to their seats.  It was still dark when we got there, and the strong train lights threw a moving beam of light on the platforms and its content.  Surreal in a very attractive way.

We boarded the “executive” car on the “Ajmer Shatabadi”.  The internals of the car is nothing to write home about, but the service is like first class on a Virgin Atlantic flight across the Pond.  Two waiters, running around, delivering newspapers, tea, water, snacks, meals, tea again, fruits, in a continuous parade of offerings and lots of smiles.  Speaking of which, smiles, with lots of teeth seems to be a way to communicate here.  People smile, a lot.  Quite an experience.  Looking out the window, green fields, cows, but also the occasional temple and the devoted believers who go with it.  Living in tents, sitting around camp fires, doing their laundry, feeding the monkeys.  The concept of existence changes significantly.

Car ride to a near fort, converted to hotel and resort for lunch.  Then back to the car for a couple of hours for a night at Khimsar Fort.  We took a short walk to the nearby village only to realize that our worlds are too far apart.  They simply had nothing we could possibly want or need, and we both knew it.  It didn't stop us all from smiling a lot.  It was an interesting end for a long day, most of which, in motion.

If you happen to be in the area, Khimsar Fort is a wonderful choice for an overnight and more.  A real fort, with the thick walls and the occasional cannon.  Excellent breakfast too.  Two thumbs up.

Enlightenment of the day: many people hit the treks when they're young.  Older people can do it to, with style, and with kids!

Posted at 11:25PM Feb 07, 2008 by Amiram Hayardeny in Personal  |  Comments[0]

Trip to India: Day Two - Delhi

We arrived at Delhi at about 4:00 AM local time and were out of the airport an hour and a half after that.  I'm  not sure that this place actually deserves the title “airport”, considering that the remote airport of “Sde Dov”, just outside Tel Aviv, which serves three small airplanes a day, has a tenfold better services, equipment, and immigration officers to accommodate the incoming traffic.  And Sde Dov is a very local airport, with no international traffic whatsoever.  Face it, if you want to be considered an international airport, you have to recruit a few more immigration officers to complement the existing three...

But we didn't mind that much.  We came with the “Shanti” attitude of “we're going to have fun, no matter what”.  So we looked at each other and moved down the line.  By the way, this is the only place in the world I've seen that asks the tourist to take responsibility over their own fate and check that a stamp, with the correct entry date, was actually placed in the passports...

We checked in to the hotel.  Clarks Inn.  Don't get near.  And at 10:00 AM after a reasonable breakfast, we were on our way to see Delhi.  We hit the road right away.  A hundred “Tuk Tuk”s, as many rickshaws, hundreds of people, buses, a few cows, a hundred or so dogs, a few monkeys, peddlers, beggars, dirty kids were all going in the same direction.  We thought it was crazy, but remembered that people actually told us about it, and that we read about it.  And then our driver, Kishan, said that it was Sunday and the traffic was about 10% the normal traffic...

We went to Masjid Al Jama (Mosque of Friday), and while looking at it I understood that the entire region near Delhi and to the north is very strongly influenced by Islam and so it was for almost a thousand years (I had no idea), and that Muslims certainly know how to build monumental structures.  The mosque is outstanding, beautiful.  If you're planning a trip to the mosque, remember to bring some thick socks, as you can't go in with shoes, a plastic bag, to keep your shoes from getting wet while being watched by the shoekeeper (may be a typo, but the profession exists, trust me), and most importantly, small bills and coins to hand out to the million kid beggars and “service providers”.

The next place was the site where Mhatma Ghandi was cremated.  If I had to use one word to describe the place, I'd use “peaceful”.  As in life, so in death, Ghandi is peaceful.  I have learned that when the British had left India, the huge country was divided into Pakistan and India.  The Muslim part became Pakistan and the Hindu part became India.  But Pakistan requested a huge sum of money for the deal to materialize.  Ghandi agreed, but he had many opponents.  One of them killed him.

Another unbelievable place was Kutab Minar.  A 72 meter high tower built 900 years ago (Muslims) and apparently used to call people to prayers.  This amazing tower has 379 stairs to go to the top.  But climbing to the top is now forbidden.  The word “stairs” may be a little deceiving, as while you may imagine a six inch comfortable stair, these are at least thrice as high, uneven, and as dangerous going up as they are coming down.

Trying to avoid generalizations, all the local people we have met so far were warm, nice and very welcoming.  While driving, Kishan, our driver, answered many questions about the Hindu religion, the Hindi language, the Punjabi people with the turbans.  Kishan was eager to provide answers.  At one point in time, he told us that maybe 5%-10% of the marriages in India are “love marriages”, while the vast majority is “arranged marriages”.  The groom and the bride only meet a few times and then they get married.  He pointed out that the divorce rate in India is around 5% (with no relation to the same percentage of “love marriages”), and that the arranged marriages are successful because the entire family on both sides chip in and help in good and bad times.  While driving we saw a horse all dressed up in red and gold cloth, Kishan said that the horse is being prepared for a wedding.  He said that every single groom in the Delhi area arrives to his wedding mounted.  White horse with a gold and red cloth.  It was pretty.  Then we saw a few people pushing heavily loaded tricycles, Kishan said they were special lights to be arranged for a wedding.

There was one sight though, that was disturbing despite the fact that we were warned and prepared for it.  Children doing acrobatic performances on the roadways for a few rupies.  A common scene is a couple of little kids dancing showing their flexible movements, while another is beating a drum, and the entire gang is being watched by an adult or an older brother.  Women begging with children in their hands.  and of course, the snake charmers.  I saw many on TV, but seeing one for real is quite different altogether.

We then went to the Parliament and the government offices, and finally to the President's Official Residence.

We were dropped off around six, exhausted after one sleepless night and way over average day of  new experiences and sights.  We went to the mall next door for dinner, and headed to the room with a lot of hope for a good night sleep.  And I saw her.  She was beautiful.  White and shiny.  She must have been way older than thirty, but she looked at most twenty.  In fact, she looked brand new.  Ambassador Classic, a car very common in India for many years, and stopped being manufactured only recently.  For those of you who like cars, there was a Peugeot commercial a few years ago, showing a few young guys, so fascinated with the Peugeot, that they shaped an Ambassador Classic into a Peugeot using hammers only.  You can only imagine the result, but the commercial was obviously very effective, and I wasn't even familiar with the Ambassador Classic until today.  Here's the YouTube Video.  While getting ready to go to bed, we realized that there was something going on.  Drumbeats that pretty much shook the entire hotel, chanting very loudly.  We went to look through the window and saw the wedding procession coming in to the wedding hall.  And exactly as Kishan described it, the groom was mounted on the horse, wearing Rajah clothes, and the accompanying sword.  Friends and family were standing on both sides carrying the special lights.  It was a very happy scene.  As soon as it was over, we were sleeping.  Not even the Delhi noisy night could interfere with our sleep.

Enlightenment of the day: India: behind, peaceful, welcoming, colorful, dirty, interesting, disturbing, contradicting, fascinating, beautiful, delightful.

Posted at 11:24PM Feb 07, 2008 by Amiram Hayardeny in Personal  |  Comments[2]

Trip to India: Day One – The Passage to India...

I haven't quite figured Beijing International Airport yet.  As a result I always seem to make the wrong decisions when it comes to the question: “how early should I report to the airport prior to the flight?”.  Three hours before departure is the general guideline post 9/11.  But it seems that when my assessment suggests that the airport will be packed with thousands of travelers, like on the eve of the New Year, the airport seems as if it was deserted in a hurry.  and vice versa.  When I assume that the airport will be relatively calm, the line to go through customs is snaking all the way out of the terminal, and thousands of angry people are pushing their way through while cussing and yelling.

When we were driving in, the driver asked what was the time of departure, and immediately suggested that we're too early.  I didn't say anything, but I was thinking to myself that being the world traveler that I am, I should know better than him, a guy who had never left Beijing.  Needless to say, he was right.  The flight didn't have an assigned gate at the time of check in, which should have alerted me to the fact that at least one crucial element was missing.  The airplane...  We took off two hours late.

I had a realization.  A two hour delay in departure isn't bad, as long as the passengers are informed.  Air China did a good job in informing, distributing water, and essentially caring for their passengers.  Another surprise was the 767-300.  It was spacious and clean, and provided a more than reasonable flying experience.  Flying United Airlines to the US is a much worse experience in every aspect of the flight.  Flight attendant attitude included.

The other realization I had was that Meizu, the MP3 player supposedly in “head on competition” with iPod, needs at least a few years of development to get near the quality of iPod.  I bought one last week.  It's cute, appealing, and has all the promising elements of success.  Nice design, interesting interface.  It differs from the iPod in that while the iPod has its famous dial, Meizu has a straight sensitive line with a touch-pad like interface for navigation.  Interesting idea, but not as effective.  But the main problem that I saw was that the directories were not well organized and disappeared on occasion.  Also, the font is smaller and the navigation line way too sensitive.  Chances are you'll navigate to the wrong place.  Nice try, but not quite.  Then again, for the price of one iPod Nano, you can purchase roughly three Meizus.  Quality or quantity – your choice.

Enlightenment of the day: adjust your attitude, and you shall be satisfied, and for a great MP3 experience – go with the iPod...

Posted at 11:06PM Feb 07, 2008 by Amiram Hayardeny in Personal  |  Comments[0]