Lousy Working Conditions and Rich Tourists

This monkey says hi to you and at the same time it is checking out some ceremonial cremation in Kathmandu...

God. I haven't posted a text in years. I am truely sorry but being outisde India has changed my routines I guess. About four weeks ago I decided that I had to realize my dream about going to Nepal and trekk in the Himalayas and about 12 days ago I left. Wonderful decision! But I never thought that trekking would be that strainful for my poor legs or that I would find myself having conversations in German on 3000 meters above sea level in the south of Asia. Do I have to say more than that to make you understand that Nepal kept surprising me? It is sometimes difficult to explain nature with words, my author friend would do fine but myself, I prefere pictures:

I have now seen more tourists in the remote mountain areas (don't even know if these areas can be called remote..) in Nepal in one day than I have seen during my whole two and a half months' stay in India! It was quite interesting to see how stunningly similair the skiing scene is with to the trekking scene. Let's make it easy with some points:

Trekking and skiing...
1) ...take place in the mountains
2) ...make both use of some kind of walking/skiing poles
3) ...are two sports where your outfit is deadly important. Note that Germans are far better dressed in the snowless mountains than I remember them being in the Austrian mountains in the middle of the ninetees. To make myself clear, I never saw any neon colours on any Germans this time.
4) ...bring an international crowd (as for all skiing resorts outside of Sweden I guess? Check out the picture further down) and the Germans are dominating, verbally as well as with their physical appearence.
5) ...bring French people who keep greeting in their own laguage despite the millions of miles' distance to their home origins.
6) ...is nice with a warm cup of something that can give you a great smile or just warm you up, with or without alcohol.
7) ...make your legs feel shit the subsequent day after going downhill.

As you can see, trekking and skiing come with a lot of similarities. For instance, you would see the small Tibetan flags on every roof top in the Nepalese mountains and for me they became the equivalece to the flags that mark the different sloapes when you go skiing, e.g where a green flag shows that the sloape is easy to descend whereas black is difficult. Well, in Nepal the flags are a little bit different, the Tibetan flags which come as a combination of 5 colours (white, yellow, red, green and blue) and this is hence no sign for the mountain's steepness but for the call for freedom... It is horrible the things that happen in Tibet and that no one keeps track of.

I walked for 7 days and my guide, Dhaka, was a really nice guy. We met a lot of nice people along the way and along with other travellers, also porters, who are carrying up to 50-70 kg on their backs, poorly dressed in cold clothes and worn out slippers (!!!) on their feet. This was probably the Nepalese equivalence to the European lifts in the alps, with the difference that the lifts in Europe probably would be better taken care of. To be honest, I found this porter thing rather disgusting and I felt even worse, talking to elder trekkers in the guesthouses in the evenings, telling me that they were sooo relieved for not having to carry their stuff themselves. I couldn't help myself from thingking; "Well of course stupid, but someone else is actually carrying your shit for no money, still feeling good are you?", but I never said anything. I am a coward.

Do I have to mention that female trekkers bring makeup with them or that middle aged couples probably have 5 sets of jackets, pants, sweaters and loafers tucked down in the backpacks they so gladely hand over to the Nepali porter, probably half their size in length as well as weight. Judge yourself, you see the backpacks in this very picture and these are rather light ones. There was never an end to smiles from the Nepalese, despite hard working hours, the porters were chating and having fun together...

It is not difficult to understand that if you live in the mountains with your family, and the neighbouring village is 10 km away, transport of groceries and goods, comes with manpower. This would be quite obvious, but it doesn't defend the fact that tourist porters have to work very hard for alomost no pay (40 euro per month). And it makes it even worse when you know that people in the north (e.g. people from developed countries) are the big clients, no Nepalese go for trekks. Now you might think it is good to provide the Nepalese jobs, yes it is, but aren't there certain conditions everyone should obey? Nepal have signed the labour rights as well, right? And as a tourist you do have a certain responsibility I reckon, don't you? These jobs would never exist in Europe that is one for sure. I would also like to add that dozens of porters die every year from cold, having slept in windsheds on 5000 meters above sealevel (do I have to tell you that the tourists sleep in well equipped tents with excellent sleepingbags?). I discussed this with most people a met besides for the ones using porters and I felt that I wanted to share it with you too. Hope you don't mind? By the way, I happen to love youngsters nowadays, check these kids out! I just love the girl in the tie, she is the gang leader, I reckon..

Kathmandu turned out to a really nice city and I was lucky to find a jolly crowd of people in a French run guesthouse in the centre of the city. Going for holy sites, shopping and constant bakery eating (you found delights everywhere, yum), my stay in Kathmandu was a rather success! And I almost forgot, the sadu talks continued, in Hindi this time (well, I am slightly restricted to hold conversations with less than 15 words). The sadu to the right on the picture here, has five times as long dreads as I have!

I am now writing to you from Gorakhpur where I arrived this morning after a crazy night busride to the Indian border from lovely K-town itself. I am still alive and leave for Kanpur in less than an hour. Have realized that I am about to come home to Sweden in 11 days and that makes my remaining days here even crazier cause there is a lot of things to do before that!

Dhal Bhat* or what?
cheers people, keep fighting!
/LindiZ

* National dish in Nepal. Tastes wonderful!

Holy Places and Filthy Waters

The travel to Varanasi was less extravagant if one counts hours spend on travelling, compared to my previous journey to Khajuraho and Orchha. I was wise this time to bring a fellow traveller from IIT itself and therefore I never had to catch any trains or busses on my own. As a result, my friend Yash and I reached Varanasi after 10 hours in the train. I should probably not mention that we did get off (Yash's fault, not mine!!!) at the wrong station and once we (well, Yash did see before me) realized our mistake, the train had started to move and we were forced to run and jump on the train again. In the general compartment this time. Men everywhere and almost no room to put your feet. The moment after actually reaching the train coach again, I was very glad to know that I know the fun of running, otherwise, we would have been in deep trouble, considering that the station was in the middle of nowhere and that the time was 03.00 am. Not that I don't like crazy adventures, but even I have certain limits!

I had a great time in Varanasi. This place was like no other place I have been to before. The first morning was spent on photography, a cheap breakfast in the morning sun and walking. People in Varanasi take bath very early in the morning and after that, the procedure of washing clothes begins. I kind of assume that you all are familiar with the concept of Varanasi? The Holy River and not to mention the polluted river... Not that I had any scientific interest in this river, there are no textile dyes in it as far as I know, but the river is in desperate need of some kind of treatment nevertheless. And if not the river, than treatment of the people falling sick after taking bath with generous mouthful of cold water? I didn't take any bath (soory Maya and Johan for this) but I did see people doing it and these peole weren't always shy, if you know what I mean? To this particular issue I have some important points to state:
1) I will not demonstrate this "if you know what I mean" with any pictures - stay calm!
2) When I did experience this "if you know what I mean incident" I never shouted it out load because that would have been rude.
3) Other more decent pictures insted of demonstrating "if you know what I mean" will be provided for my international fanclub. Enjoy!
Varanasi is a very quiet and relaxing city. The drawback may be that other foreign people know this too. Walking along Ganges is by all means a must when visiting Varanasi and a walk to the temple could be rewarding to if one fancies that. Despite the fact that I am an atheist, one gets touched by all these Varanasi people and other Indians for that matter, devoting their whole life to the holy river and all practices that comes with it as far as religion is concerned. The men in saffron clothes are called Sadus and I have met such men before. They exist even in Varanasi and they don't ask for money here as I was accustomed to, bearing the old sadu man in Orchha in mind.

This Varanasi Sadu became my friend. We talked for a while, in different languages of course, but it was nice. Even Sadus have to wash their clothings I realized when I looked to the sky from the narrow streets of central Varanasi in the afternoon.



I also had a boatride in the evening from where I had the chance to see real night arts of Varanasi. You can judge yourself.

In the morning I had a boatride in the sunrise and this gave me an even better opportunity to see people taking bath, but from a different angle this time and since this morning the manager of blogspot.com has contacted me on this matter (I am now referring to "if you know what I mean") and I will therefore only provide one single snap from this particular morning. I know you might be disappointed now but sometimes one has to respect the right of others. The rest remains in other words confidential...

I visited my friends at Agmotex Fabrics this week too. I was ment to go by bike (read motorbike) with the assistant in the lab. I had my gear all prepared, the sunglasses, the look, the cargo pants, my black rugsack. In the very last minute, the factory translater and besides main buyer from the factory, called me on my cell to inform me that he would have to come with us and he would be driving (read a car). As a consequence, I had to forget my prepared bike look, step down from the bike and half an hour later I found myself in an air conditioned car with a half corpulent Indian, discussing the benefits of wastewater treatment on textile dye industries.

Reaching Agmotex felt almost weird, I thought to myself that these people don't have the slightest clue about how many hours I have spent in the lab due to their use of these stupid dyes. So yes, I was mentally upset there for a while but also excited about being there again of course. The place was crowded by men. (Recall that almost no women work here.) I actually had two missions on the site this day, collecting water, which this day was blue if you are interessted, and collecting of....?

I won't tell you more than this, you will have to figure it out yourself. The picture of the particular incident is attached here below. The one giving the correct answer will get a delicous sweet in the middle of November...31 days are left for me in India. And guess where I will be heading next Saturday (to my supervisor's deprecation)?

Hare Rama and goody nighty

Yours forever and long lasting sweets fan

/LindiZ

(Bacterial) Friend's Week

I don't really know what it is that makes time fly but this is exactly what is happening in Kanpur and India at the moment. I am counting remaining weekends and try to even these out with desired travelspots and at the same time I realize that I won't have time to do everything! Damm it. I have to choose and plan my time carefully, that is my new recipe at the moment and I know that after having spent two visits in India already, one has to come back for a third. Well, I am not leaving yet and I will therefore do everything to enjoy the last month here at IIT and elsewhere...

I think that this particular week must be namned (bacterial) friend's week. I have no other words. These little funny bottles contain different kind of bacteria, some like oxygen (AS), some don't (AN) and others are mixed together. I also found some bacteria at the textile industry, these are found in the bottle to the right on this picture. The control bottle has no bacteria at all :( This is why it is still very coloured. This picture accounts for the bacterial part this week.I don't know what it is but somehow, people start to like me more and more here at the hostel. I am not just the funny dreaded non Hindi speaking girl who likes jogging anymore. This is the explanation to the "Friend" part of this week's name.

Anyway, I have been to so many different girls' rooms here at GH II (Girl's Hostel 2) since last Sunday, even been singing and playing guitar in some of the rooms! For instance, last Tuesday night I was jamming with Rahika who has an incredible voice. We might just do some recordings before I head back :) This place is actually partly run on solar energy which I realized when I climbed the stairs to take this picture of GH II. My room is down to the left hand corner if you happen to pass by one day. Don't bother to knock on the door, I tend to play music at times and might not hear knocking.

In addition, last Sunday I visited Ruchi's family in Kanpur itself. To be honest, this was the first time I actually gave this city a genuine chance to show its proper face. Last Sunday was really a success. Me and Ruchi had a minor photo session on her roof top terrace, after a delicious lunch with her joint family (uncles, aunts, cousins, siblings, parents, grandparents etc all live in the same house). The photosession turned out to be both incredible as well as unbelievable. The latter, since there were 25 men starring at me from the other building's roof top terrace on the other side of the street (women come from Venus, right?). To be honest, I never expected it to be THAT interessting to look at :)

The session was incredible since Ruchi turned out to be a natural talent when it comes to modelling. After our "Lipton-Tea-Session" on her roof (in India this means Chai and nothing else), she is now very much considering a new reunion in the lab with beakers, flasks and testtubes and me behind the camera. I am quite sure she will do well, her dress was really nice too.

A neighbouring woman offered me her bicycle the other day. She had a spare one anyway. This is why I am now flying from one building to another at campus. I love racing and hate loosing. :) So far so good. The guy who repaired my cycle, did rip me off; I paid 80 rupees too much (approximately 15 SEK). But I am happy anyway :)

Since some of you might already know that I am a fan of sweets I wanted to show you my vegan delights over here. I even attached a photo of the shopping center at IIT (abbrevated as shopC amongst IITers)

When I don't buy sweets by the nice (English speaking) gentleman in the sweetshop (I buy the balls on the upper shelf on the left side of the picture.), I look at books and get myself a cold drink. Yes, that is what you can do at shopC.

I realize I have to run to my bacterias or friends or, no, I lost it there. Sorry. Well, catch you later. Maybe I just need a sweet refill? Will definetely see you next month!

So long and keep letting me know how you are

sweets and cycles

/Lin

Experience and Clumsiness Walk Hand in Hand?

The time had come for my second trip. I had company this time too, my friend Ari, whom I met in Dehli on my arrival, was ment to join me in Jhansi. Jhansi is only a few hours away by train. My train departed in the middle of the night (1.20 Am), so did Ari's, but his train from Dehli. Everything seemed so easy, the taxi took me to the station, the big screen in the entrance hall of the trainstation annonced my train along with this loud voice from the speakers, altering Hindi with English: "Train 9168, plattform 7, arrives at 1.20..." I found the platform easily and I arrived 40 minutes before departure. Piece of a cake. But something went wrong. Holy cow. Something DID go wrong. I can't really tell you why since I am not sure whether it is due to:

A) ...my by far great experience in travelling combined with my age of 26 (hahah)?
B)...the inherited clumsiness from my mother?

You might have guessed it already;
I took the "down" train instead of the "up" train, as it is called here in India. In pure English this means that trains going north and south can depart from the same platform but from different locations on the actual platform. And sometimes only with a few minutes in between, which was the case for my train. So instead of going 4 hrs west, I travelled 4 hrs eastwards with the down train. And by 5 am, when I was ment to go off, I woke up, knockered and a bit dissy, eager to reach Jhansi station, keen on meeting up with Ari, and asked my fellow travellers where we were. The look on the two elder men, sitting close to my berth, revealed everything but confirming my arrival to Jhansi. This is when you call your Hindi speaking friend and let him sort out the problem. My reward this time was the following:
"take a bus (read: a couple of different buses) and go to Khajuraho (the second place we were meant to visit this weekend) and we will meet there. I will go there now and wait for you".

The couple of buses were:
0) From "wrong train (=stupid Lindiz)" to busstand in order to catch "soon-and-very-soon-reaching-Khajuraho-bus" = 4 minutes in morning sun, not too bad and I was the ONLY tourist in this little town that day...

1) Faizerabad (a VERY small town) to Allahabad = 5 hrs. On this bus I met Nikita. We couldn't talk that much but I showed her my camera and we smiled at each other. She turned out to be one of my best friends on this madrush trip.
2) Allahabad Town by Rikshaw to Allahabad Bus Stand = 7 minutes during rush hour
Arriving to the bus stand in this "city of Allah", I had some black tea (kali chai) and a couple of samosas served and prepared by this gentleman in the white tank top, before I then headed towards Mahoba:

3) Allahabad to Khajuraho = 9 hrs
This busdriver loved his horn and I loved the amusing massage my arse got after already 2 hours in this bus. Luckily I had about 8 hours left to get used to the akward feeling. Puh.

But then, all of a sudden, something went wrong again. Oh no, you might think but oh yes, I write. But this time there was only one reason:
I) People had fooled me. I arrived only in Banda which wasn't a place you'd like to stay in. There were 10000000000 of insects, everywhere and they ended up at the least expected places on your body. Crawling and biting you to make sure you were aware of their presence.

From Banda to Khajuraho, it was another 4 hours by bus but peole let me know that I couldn't reach Khajuraho this night. It was too late (8 pm), only a bus for Mahoba was there and Mahoba was 2 hours from Khajuraho. This is when I met Shewda, a very beautiful 22 year old girl who was heading for Mahoba too. She let me know that I could stay in her house that night and then reach Khajuraho the following morning. Shewda was really nice. I was actually thankful but I had travelled for so long. I couldn't give up now. I wanted to reach Khajuraho that very minute, that very night! In addition, Ari had been waiting 12 hours already and I didn't want him to take the piss the whole weekend. I like to take the piss, not to be given the piss! There is a slight difference there actually. So, this is example two of when it can be very useful to call your Hindi speaking friend and ask for help. Ari said he would do some research. Less than 10 minutes later, I was told there was a taxi waiting for me in Mahoba. OMG [Oh My Gog], I was saved! Excellent! I arrived in Khajuraho 11.40 pm. Only 17hrs and 40 minutes later than planned with a soft arse and stinking feet!

Arriving in Khajuraho was more than just nice. The bed was softer than ever and the company made me feel safe and alive again. I kept smiling the whole weekend and Ari didn't take the piss after all. I was lucky. Khajuraho is known for its temples showing sculptures, carvings and drawings of erotical figures. Isn't this something one would like to have hanging in the livingroom for instance? It would be excellent in our female nest at Noble Square I am sure.

Travelling with a fellow countryman of a different sex comes with a few surprises but also new experiences, for the foreigner as well as the native Indian. We had different versions to the question "How do you know each other"

a) I was writing for Lonely Planet and I liked the hotel whose owner was driving us to different sights in Khajuraho
b) I was Ari's wife
or the last but not the least
c) I was Ari's friend :)

There were thus seldom different guesses to that question, we were definetely a couple, but quite a few were not sure wheter both of us were foreigners or not. The fact that one of us spoke Hindi fluently didn't seem to guide people in the right direction when buying tickets or visiting restaurants...

Khajuraho had incredible temples and even resting dogs. If I HAD been a writer for Lonely Planet, I would definetely recommend people to go here.









Since I was used to bumpy bus rides by now, we decided to leave Khajuraho the following afternoon and head for Orchha, the old palace city. I was by far the greatest "how to ride by bus guide in the region" and since Orchha was only 6 hours from were we where and it is closer to Kanpur, once it is time to head back to the laborative reality in Kanpur, it was game. Arriving in Orchha by night was beautiful.

After the sunset, there comes dawn and Sadus. Sadus are holy men who give up everything to reach Nirvana. Sadus can sometimes have dreads and the sadus in Orchha wanted to talk to me in the early morning hour. The chat was pleasant, each one spoke in her/his own language. The desriptive word for this picture is ten.

Ari told me the man asked for money, yet Sadus are told not to beg. I don't know if the tickets to Nirvana are hard to find these days?


After my Sadu meeting, we climbed the major palace in Orcha and stared at other tourists. It is funny how these visitors tend to be different vistors than yourself. I never consider myself to be a tourist. I just happen to be there, in this foreign country. That is it.


There were plenty of palaces and nice architecture in Orchha. We made it a long weekend since Ghandi's birthday last Tuesday was a holiday. When I entered the lab on Wednesday morning, after a lucky train journey from Orchha to Kanpur with the correct "up" train, I was excited to see what my beloved fungus had done with the coloured waste water. My conclusion these last 5 days is thus:

If not lucky with trains. then luck comes with fungus, look at this decolourization!

Catch you on the train? My new plan is to visit Nepal during the mid term break and to be on the safe side, I will apply for a visa to Bhutan as well. Nothing can go wrong then I suppose. Just face it either you are in or out.

Waste and no horror
/Lindiz
ps Garzia: you fooled me. I will by you the Ipod. There are discounts over here, still no black ones to be found but ds