Happy birthday Mom!

Today’s blog post is about my mother. Not because India didn’t show herself worth writing about, but because my mother – my sweet, wonderful, fun, beautiful, wise, fabulous and once in a while stupid mother – turns 70 tomorrow. And as she has invited a ton of guests tomorrow and is leaving for India and travelling with me and the family the day after; well, then today is the day to write about her. At least if I want to make sure she reads it before leaving.

My mother has many different personalities. She is the little girl, who tore her dolls apart to see what made their eyes open and close. She’s the builder, who might have had the same address for 40+ years, but whose home has changed several times. My mother is also a lady with pretty dresses and fancy jewelries. The lady, who introduced her kids to great literature, classical and modern theater, art etc.

I feel so safe when Im with my mother. Hiding away in her arms, when the rest of the world ought to go away but doesn’t. She’s one to call when everything else falls apart. One to fart with and laugh about it.

My mother loves company. Parties. Laughter. She would do anything for her friends if they need it – sometimes even if they don’t need it. I think I got that from her (though I try only to be there when needed). Funnily, she's the one, who once told me to take a little less care of my friends as I might risk forgetting to take care of myself.

And once in a while, my mother is also stupid. Never on purpose, but because she’s a human being – and sometimes humans do stupid things. Then she hurts me awfully, perhaps because she points out exactly what was hurting the most already. Other times Im the one saying the stupid things. Probably how it is. You can only be hurt by people you like enough to get hurt. Over the years I’ve taught her to say she likes me – in other ways than calling me a rotten child. She’s become much better at that.

For instance, I have no doubt that my mother loves my writing. She reads all my stories – even the ones I wrote about our common trip in Canada. She’ll happily forward my letters and blog posts to friends and acquaintances – and get offended if they don’t appreciate as much as her.

Since I began globetrotting, we’ve started travelling together. Spending a full day with each a camera, looking out for good – great – motives. A day in Kennedy Space Center equally fascinated by the moon landings and completely on the same page, when it comes to spend at least an hour in the museum shop afterwards.

Now she’s turning 70. So happy birthday beautiful Mom – you are exactly that mother I wished for.

Cycling the luxurious kind of way...

As I described in an earlier blog post, I went to a puja at Pundirji last week. The beautiful trip gave me an idea for pretty sweet cycling trip that Im planning on testing on my family (and mother's friends) who will be visiting from this Saturday.

Before putting them through, I needed to test whether the trip actually was as good as it seemed. It was! 19 km downhill with breathtaking views the entire way. I won't reveal too much as my scape goats are following this blog, but a little appetizer won't harm anybody...

On our way up, we passed the school next to Pundirji's house - yet another moviestar reception.

The trip downhill begins at the Baukhe devi-temple. Ram Vijay (the driver, who got me up and followed me down)is kneeling in front of the deity in the temple.

 The Indian temples are often situated on the top of a mountain...

Just another view.

When I told where I was going, the staff asked me to buy jalebi - so of course I did. The jalebis are those (over exposed) yellow things in the dish. Awfully sweet stuff, which has resulted in minor nausea.

My samdi, Sanjay

A samdi (in Hindi) is your son-in-law's father. Sanjay is my samdi, which means that my (unconceived) daughter is going to get married to his son. According to our plan. The plan has existed for 3 years so far and now Sanjay has done his part of the deal. His son Kesau is 7 months old and I met him for the first time today.

Sanjay's posing on the trail on our way to Sirasu.

Sanjay and his family lives in Sirasu, (I described the village when I visited it with Nifle). We began the visit with half an hour's walk along the river and then a climb up the the last part till we reached Sanjay's house at the very top of Sirasu. Almost at the top. His uncle lives at the top and we visited the uncle first and had a glass of water.

 Sanjay's first cousin (which means they are actually cousins) served us water - very very proud!

My son in law and my samdi. Cute and happy - and healthy indead (particular the son in law). All the kids in the mountains are equally healthy till they start walking (or rather running) up and down the mountain sides...

 Kesau, or Prince as I was also allowed to call him, with his grandmother and great grandmother in the background. I've visited the family at least twice before (Sanjay's older brother Jeetu is also a very dear friend) and usually the women have been too shy to talk to me. They must have gotten used to me as this time was different. When Sanjay got restless and went away to move around for a while, both granny and great granny came over to chat with me. I believe my rather broken Hindi made some sense. Anyways, great granny started cuttling me and both of them laughed, when I told that Sanjay is my samdi even though Im unmarried. Afterwords they told Sanjay that they think Im very beautiful (oh so sweet).

 Sirasu is jaw-dropping beautifully situated - I don't know many domestic animals with a view like this from their stables.

 Or like this.

 Kesau with Auntie. The black spot on his forehead is a black eye that protects against demons. Kesau will get it re-applied every morning for the first 2 years of his life. For the same reason, his hair won't get cut for the first 2 years either.

The family. It was the first time I met Sanjay's wife so she was still very shy, but Sanjay managed to convince her to have a picture taken.

 On the journey back we crossed the river by "ferry" from Sanjay's uncle's river camp - practical, very practical indeed...

 And then a cup of chai while waiting for a lift. When the chai-wallah found out that Sanjay's working for Aquaterra, he said "Ahh Kala-ji" (very respectful name for Vaibhav the owner of Aquaterra). Sanjay then explained to me that Kala-ji's reputation is the reason why all Aquaterra employees always keep their back straight...

 ...And never bent in shame.

 Finally we got a hitch back in a truck for 10 rupees (for both of us). Unfortunately, I forgot my hat (that Im wearing on the picture above) in the truck. I hope the driver will appreciate it...

My favourite view

Evening view from a tent in camp. Im going back down there again in a bit...

Republic Day

26. January is Republic Day of India celebrating the Indian constitution getting enacted in 1950.

We celebrated with flag and national anthem at Atali.

Vikram with the first edition of the flag - yellow pole, not good!

Rohit greets

The new pole is adjusted.

The flag is released.

National anthem.

There were flowers inside the flag that were released when it opened.

My first day in India...

Today, I've had a good time looking through the archives, where I found my old letters from India.

These days it is exactly 10 years since I first landed in Delhi and then India. As I recall it, it was 28. January 2003 (and I have a psycho memory so most probably it's right). I'll probably post some more of these stories over the next months - some of them are still favourites. But today you'll get the story of my first day in Delhi.

The context. I'd landed late the previous night carrying a horrible tonsillitis. I had no idea about what India would turn out to be, but I wasn't particularly pleased about spicy food, big crowds or chaos. (At least that's what I thought). I had had my first day at the embassy, meeting my colleagues, including the doctor Bjarne, who gave me a prescription for antibiotics for the tonsillitis (nothing better than a good first hand impression).

Here goes from my letter:

"In the afternoon, Bjarne invited for a puja. Bjarne had only just moved to Delhi after living 5 years in Bhutan. Therefore, he'd bought a new house, new car and new (motor) bike. According to Hindu tradition you should make a puja for the newly purhased items to secure good luck for them.

We had been invited to the puja to see how it happened. A pandit (Hindu priest) had arrived and put up all necessary items. The puja took place on carpets in the unfurnished living room. All participants made a circle on the floor around the alter with Ghee (cleared butter), incense sticks, spices etc. The pandit lit the items while chanting and singing and getting the smoke all around the house.

All people present got a red string tied around their wrist. When the inside part of the ceremony where over and done with, it was time for the car and the bike. A few religious chants and some rituals, i.e. smashing a coconut in front of each vehicle and having the owner of the car driving over a lime. The last were a symbol for this being the last thing this vehicle would run over and, hence, never be involved in traffic accidents. Though less than 24 hours in the country, I could already tell that that blessing really would be needed.

Outside a group of 4-5 eunuchs turned up. The eunuchs live together in small enclaves, where they look out for each other. They are most often excluded from society and according to the rumours several of them are castrated (but I believe that is mainly rumours). According to Hindu mythology they are capable of blessing or cursing newly arrived things or people (like a new born baby in a house). They ask for money to give a blessing and make themselves a living that way. Unfortunately for the eunuchs their powers doesn't work on the non Hindus so they had to leave with less than the house and area of town usually would give."

That was an excerpt from my letter. Im neither particular religious nor superstitious, but I do like the tale of me being blessed on my first day in India as if I were the new thing that needed good luck in my new country. No matter what, India has been an extremely important part of my life since then.

aj mai tikh nahi hu

mai bimar hu aur bed me.

The above is Hindi and translates to: "Today, Im not well, Im sick and in bed." And that is how it is, which is why I haven't experienced much today. Therefore, you get a couple of animal shots I've clicked around here. I didn't have my camera, when I saw the two yellow-throated martens that had gone in our trash bin yesterday, so somewhat less exotic...

Our house...

 ...In the middle of the street...

A couple of hundred meters up the road from Atali, there is a sadhu cave. A sadhu is an ascetic wandering monk, who've chosen the hermit life of different, including religious, reasons. Atali is situated on the main road to Badrinath, one of the four most important pilgimages for the Hindus. Furthermore Atali is in the Ganges valley (Ganga as her real name is), Ganges being the holiest river for the exact same Hindus.

The sadhus have given up all material wealth and therefore, often lives in caves, preferably in the mountains in peaceful surroundings away from civilisation. This cave is way less peaceful than usual.

 Pretty much on the road - you can see, a wall has been built to shield the cave a bit from traffic.

A bit closer, firewood has been collected.

 The entire household effects.

Next to Malakhunti lives another sadhu in a cave in the cliffs. Way more civilised - and shielded.

Finally, a drunk guy, I met on the morning cycling - I thought he would make a good picture.

A lemon

I got a lemon from Harender today.

The lemon has grown in his fields in Sirasu (his village) and Im going to enjoy it in my tea over the next couple of days. Sometimes small things are very very big.

Usually Harender is working in the kitchen in camp and on expeditions but at the moment he's helping building walls at Atali. I got the lemon in camp, though.

During lunch break today Harender showed even more of his multible skills by cutting Beem Singh's hair.

Puja at Pundirji's

Gullar is on the way from Atali to Rishikesh. In Gullar you can turn right right before the bridge (if you're coming from Atali). Driving 10 km on that road will take you through an amazingly beautiful landscape with breathtaking views and land you up in the village Loel. Pritam Pundir - or Pundirji as we respectfully call him lives in Loel. Pundirji is head of housekeeping at Atali but he has been on leave for the past 10 days, because his family has been celebrating a religious festival. They've been fasting during daylight and had pujas (religious ceremony) every evening. The fast is over and hence, we were invited for a final puja at Pundirji's today.

Location, location, location.

The village isn't used to foreigners visiting. At my arrival, all the kids in the school, we parked right outside went nut. They were waving, cheering and yelling at me: "Angrez, Angrez", which originally meant Englishman specifically, but now means foreigner in general. The kids only spoke few words English including "you are beautiful". We met some elderly ladies on our way up to Casa Pundirji. I greated politely to all of them. They greated back and touched my arm - to feel how such a light skin as mine felt.

 Welcome to Pundir Hous

 The vedi (sort of an alter) where all the pujas have been held. I got blessed too, among others also by Pundirji, who wished for me to get a good husband soon (the guys here are very concerned about the combination of my age and my marital status).

 Pundirji's niece

Beautiful, proud, strong women of Loel.

 Family photo - of the closest family. They too, will get a print of all the pictures I took.

 The entire village and the surrounding as well were invited for lunch. This is the women eating. The food were served in buckets - this one with dal (lentils).

 Pundirji with his mother and one of her grandchildren.

 A mini puja.

I love the Indians use of colored clothes - a great inspiration for me.

Pundirji and me. Im bending my knees a bit so it looks as if he's taller than me (my choice, not his request). The grass behind my ears were part of the blessing - and apparently very important in order to obtain the luck with the previously mentioned husband. The two fingers behind my head has the same meaning as in the rest of the world...

yeah yeah...

...I should've written something about my day and the wonders of it. But then the rum was put on the table, the fire was lit and the talks started and so the writing sort of vanished. But it was a very good talk!

A lang talk...

... with Rana - about life and other important stuff...

A brown river with flushed out mud

A smile or a hundred from Jetu.

 And a head massage from Sanjay.