It seems a long time ago that I left Orcha and headed with Manoj to Agra (Manoj had never seen the Taj) I didn't go see it with him since I've seen it and they charge foreigners almost 40 times what they charge locals. I did however get to stay in a wonderful homestay that I didn't have to pay for. The people who ran this place were so confident in it that they wanted me to experience it first hand as opposed to just a walk through-it was great and is somewhere I would have my clients stay!! I also had a chance to meet with some other guests staying there who were extremely nice and made the stay even that much better.
We arrived home the next day where the family was happy to see us and Manoj spent hours telling the stories and how different it is traveling with a foreigner. The following day I didn't want to leave the village, I really wanted to do nothing. However, since I was heading to the mountains I went into the city to find a thick sweatshirt. Finding a sweatshirt my size in an Indian market is like finding an Indian that really wants me to only look in their shop and not buy anything. (It doesn't exist) At the shops, many would wait until I made my request and then tell me they don't have my size, while others would see me approaching and tell me the don't have my size (it didn't matter what I wanted). I headed back to the village without my extra thick sweatshirt. Coincidentally, I woke up in a sweat and felt completely awful which lead to my village hospital visit the next morning.
Once I was cleared of Dengue fever and Malaria, they gave me a shot in my butt (first one of my life here) for the joint aches. Then, the nurse rubbed a cold pack over my stomach and chest to bring down my temperature. They filled me with hydration fluid while Ganeesh (my indian brother) rubbed my head as if I was 2 years old and told me I don't listen to him when he tells me to take care of myself and this is why this happened. 3 hours in the hospital with prescriptions cost me around $14; a tad different than the bill would have been in the US.
The next few days were for recovery. Also, I went to the bathroom every hour or so. Having this problem in India reminds me mostly of soccer conditioning. Squatting so often that my legs are sore. Sweating like I've been working my body hard and when it's over each time I am absolutely wiped out. Unlike hoping for thunderstorms during soccer conditioning, all I could do was wait it out. As my stomach continued to hurt for a couple of days, the family had a village stomach guy come over. He layed me on my back, put his thumb in my belly button and pushed my stomach muscles around. As one point he pressed hard on my foot, then raised my knees and bent my leg, and after a few minutes asked me if I was alright. Not speaking Hindi, I just said "I feel the same". He not understanding english took this as something good and left on his way. He learned what he knows from his father who learned from his and so on. Apparently, many villages have this person.
I spent the next couple of days on the couch switching back and forth between 3 english movie channels. India gets our worse movies we ever have made. Most, I have never heard of. Most, as I get into it, the power in the house cuts anyway. Power cuts are common everday to India. Most of the time when this happened I found myself somewhat relieved that I couldn't watch the rest of the movie and then drifted off to sleep. I cut back on eating heavy-ish foods and ate mostly rice.
After a few days I decided to get going and went into Jaipur to meet another friend Balveer. The meeting place was McDonalds. Now, I haven't eaten Mcd's in almost 4-5 years. I don't like the idea of them. This day was different. I craved french fries and a coke. This McD's I loved. It may have been the food, it may have been a taste of home surrounded by white people, it may have been that I got to go and sit on Ronalds throne. I think when I went into the bathroom and got comfortable, this is when every male in the restaurant decided that they too needed to use the bathroom. I heard the lock tested many times and for those who weren't sure in their ability to open doors gave a yell to see if someone was really in there.
I left that night on another train ride with Balveer and his parents to his village. We had general class tickets. This means that when the train stops you get your ass in there and get a seat or you will be standing. It is a fight at the door with pushing, shoving and sometimes punching. As the train neared I saw the mass of people pile up to the door when I then saw out of the corner of my eye Balveer jump through a window after throwing his bag through. I then handed him the other bags and we had our seats secured.
It was a nice, relaxing stay at Balveers house with his family.
Side Notes:
1. Manoj and I found another double banana.
2. I got my hair cut in the village on my day of rest. At home I find it difficult to explain to a barber how I want my hair cut. Not speaking the language and using my hands I find it doesn't differ too much, it always comes out fine, but not what I had in mind.
3. Lots of people in public transportation put their hands on my knee, always guys. I don't know why and usually I don't bother doing anything as it's usually crowded and I'm too tired to deal with it. I think this might be the lighter feel of prison where someone claims you and then everyone thinks you are with them.
4. I am attempting to find places to practice yoga for people I send to India. What westerners think of Yoga is in general what Indians think of as normal everyday life. Positions that would take me years to be able to do, everyone from little kids to grandparents do it. It is their normal ways while eating, walking, sitting, and even going to the toilet. Being calm is necessary here just for public transportation: everyone just sort of meditates while on a busy bus or train.
This photo was from Manoj and I arrived back to Jaipur and it was the start of wedding season so they were preparing all the flowers to sell in the markets. I think it's funny "wedding season"
It makes me think of hunting season where they take people out and then they are married.
With that, the toilet is calling and I have had a full day of looking at hotels.
Thanks for being patient with me, and next time you are stuck in traffic, think of me between five people on a bumpy, dirty bus with at least one hand on my knee and just calm down.
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