Christmas in Cochin

We are having a wonderful Christmas in Cochin (Kochi). I awoke to find a Christmas flip-flop stuck in the bars of our room's balcony window. ALL of my socks are in the laundry at the moment so a single sandal made do. Please note the traditional orange in the toe of the, ummm... "stocking."



We'd bought a small string of Christmas lights the night before and fashioned a Christmas "tree-like area" using the mirror and vanity stand in our room. This picture (below) was taken this morning after the highly skilled and always amazing Santa located us. Susan's stocking - empty just hours ago - was stuffed with stuff.



And there were wrapped presents, too!



One of Susan's treats was Ghandi nut balls, not something easily found in the Seattle area, I'm sure. Other items included a lethal looking "butter knife", strawberry chocolate coins (kind of a sick, translucent pink/white color) and copy-cat Wrigley's gum with Arabic text.





We met a new Rickshaw Run team at breakfast. The team, "She's a Goa", is a couple from London. So that makes six of us in town now. We went to the "mainland" by ferry today and spent Christmas - not unpleasantly, really - trading in our cheap cell phone (which broke after three calls!!) for a name-brand Nokia. At nearly twice the price we hope it will be more durable and reliable. I'm sure it will be.

Walking home from the ferry Susan met a friend.



And I have seen some cool looking birds.





There are Pua flower trees here. The petals are a delicate pink and oh so fragrant!



Tonight we will have dinner with the other four team members who are in town. I think two more arrive tonight. Susan and I both wish you each a Merry Christmas.

Flathead (aka, Dave)

Kochi

We arrived in Kochi yesterday afternoon. The town is small and quite, a welcome change from Mumbai. Last night the choir from a local catholic church sang carols. When they invited the public to join in Dad went right up. They gave him a mic and he was certainly the star of the evening. We met up with Ingo from the Bombay Buccaneers, the only other Rickshaw Runner in town, for dinner. Tom ,the head guy, will arrive on the 27th. This morning I'm off to buy a mobile phone while dad goes to church.

We found out some good news from the rickshaw run folks. We'll all be getting new rickshaws rather than used ones. After some research Tom found that most of the used rickshaws up for sale were repossessed from people who couldn't make their payments. As he put it, "supporting the trade that is screwing over the very people we are trying to help seemed a pretty cheap thing to do." This change means that every team now has to raise a toal of 800 pounds. But because all of you have been so generous we're still well over this goal. Thank You!

Mumbai, Mathura, Agra, and Delhi

The Gate of India in Mumbai.



The Taj Majal Hotel in Mumbai. An Indian man built this after he was turned away from the swankiest British hotel. He vowed to build a hotel so luxurious magnificent it would drive them out of business.



Shiva, performing the dance of creation on one of the smaller panels in the temple on Elephanta island.



I found some friends on the island.




The photo that set the guards at the Mathura train station off - it may look puny in this shot but this tank was enormous. It was part of a long train of military trucks and equipment.



Our first glimpse of the Taj Majal through it's grand entrance gate.



Around the grounds of the Taj Majal.









This is one of two buildings flanking the Taj. It was built to maintain symmetry; It's copy on the other side is a mosque.



A woman having formal portraits taken at the Taj.



Another friend!



The sun was setting as we visited Agra Fort, near the Taj Majal.



The stunning lotus shaped Bahá'í temple in Delhi was set among nine beautiful pools and allowed only silent prayer and meditation.

safe

Dad got a helmet - in the packaging to prove it's new!

More photos forthcoming.

foggy

As we drove up to the domestic terminal of the Delhi airport I noticed an array of cameras and news crews set up along the curb. Just outside the main door was a small mob of people yelling and chanting insistently.

Inside the airport a little sign noted: No Snack Stand Beyond Security. No big deal, we thought, it's only half an hour until our flight. As we crossed the threshold into the waiting area the reality sunk in. We listened as flight after flight was delayed by the fog hanging over the airport. We held onto the hope that ours would make it out - the status screen still listed us as on time.

Two hours after the scheduled departure it still cheerfully listed our flight as on time. Rumors of airport retaliation against the protesters spread. Apparently the demonstrators were frustrated at unexplained cancellations and false promises of refunds. I don't know what was going on outside the terminal but the mood at the gates was tense. Once we finally took off the pilot came on the intercom and voiced his annoyance that we'd been delayed. He said the weather was no reason to delay flights. There was definitely something strange afoot at the Delhi airport this morning.

The delay caused us to miss our connection in Mumbai to Kochi but we've been re-booked onto tomorrows flight.

So for a second time To be Sorted plans on arriving in Kochi tomorrow!

the right look

Our inspiration for the paint job on our rickshaw:

















A portion of the plans we drew up to send to Tom:






















We'll add a red line to the map of India to mark our route as we go.

Breathe

In Mumbai, the air was almost too thick with pollution to breathe.

Relief came with silent breathing meditation on Elephata Island. I was in an ancient temple cave in front of an enormous sculpture of Shiva. His face was the most serene thing I've ever seen set to stone.

The train to Agra brought a breath of fresh air. We met Kris, a veteran of the First Gulf War with a face that showed off his years of amateur boxing. Ten years ago he started a feeding program from just one pot in Varanasi, India and soon they will finish a kitchen that will feed 5,000 four times a day. He was full of valuable local insight and said a bath in the Ganges is a must. A truly remarkable man. Ganges, here I come.

We held our breath in Mathura waiting for the men in green uniforms to haul us away. I'd asked dad to take a picture of the train full of huge tanks and military trucks. Based on the reaction of the men in the station when dad snapped the shots this was a poor choice. They argued amongst themselves and watched us carefully for an hour but we kept the camera stowed and eventually got on our train without incident.

The Taj Majal was breathtaking. It is such an beautiful and unparalleled expression of the grief of a widower. The Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore perfectly describes the Taj as "a teardrop on the face of eternity."

Out of breath from hauling our luggage we met a woman and her nephew at the train station leaving Agra. They were both warm and generous and made sure we got a ticket on the fully booked train. A strong, independent business woman, she is the first person we've met in India who has had full faith that we will not only live through the trip, but make it in time.

Finally we are in Delhi now and can breath easy because we've booked our flight to Kochi and will be there tomorrow. We'll check into the official hotel, meet the other teams, have a Gin and Tonic (official drink of the rickshaw run), and practice or cricket skills in preparation for the launch on the 28th.

Would you like ice with that?

I have been here four days and have really enjoyed getting to know people in the neighborhood of our hotel. Each day and couple nights I've walked two or three miles up and down the main road and side streets, exploring and talking to people.

This enterprising guy buys a huge chunk of ice from somewhere and then hauls it to "his" little piece of "sidewalk" to sell piece-meal. Yup, it's sitting right there on the ground in the dirt and whatever. And "whatever" covers a lot of stuff, believe me.

Susan and I are staying in an industrial, not a tourist area. In my days here I have walked past thousands and thousands of people and not seen a single Caucasian face. Not one. That is pretty amazing when you think about it! I didn't think about it until about the third day and I said to myself, hmmm, Dave, you haven't seen anyone of Finnish heritage yet.

Susan arrived early, early this morning. Today we went into downtown Bombay (much more diverse) and plan to go to the Gateway to India monument in just a bit. It is a stretch of ocean front where people stroll in the evening and visit the various vendors along the boardwalk. I read in an article that it is the place to get your ears professionally cleaned. Of COURSE I'll have to try out this unique service!

We are doing well. Loving the people-side of India very, very much.

Rock N' Roll

The Rajasthan Raiders have this little gem for sale at their online shop.

Too bad I'm leaving in less than 48 hours or I'd make sure to be fully outfitted.

p.s. We've blown our fundraising goal out of the water with $1,650.00 raised so far. Thank You.

Italy doesn't have any good hardware stores

Flathead here, in the final weeks of our Italian trip. I want a suction cup hook for keeping things off the nasty floors I'm anticipating in India (yes, this may be a prejudiced view....I'll let you know, honestly, if it turns out I've pre-judged this part of the sub-continent). Nobody has them. Have you ever tried to buy a suction cup hook in Italy? Do you know how difficult it is and what sounds and gestures one has to make to get the point across?? I've been threatened with arrest twice. On the flip side a guy in one store wanted me to come with him to the back room. Believe me, sketches don't help, either.

Proportionito E Homme Leisuro

Dad sent me a postcard from Italy where he and Mom are traveling until we meet up in India. The caption to this masterpeice reads:

My best effort sketching Leonardo's little known drawing of "Proportions of man at rest." Take note of the violet "Elipse of Ease" with it's two foci. This is not shown in his more famous work.

It's like a motorcycle only slower and with less sex appeal.

My boss Paul: How excited are you, on a scale of one to ten?
Me: An eight.
Paul: What will get you to a ten?
Me: Getting a motorcycle jacket.

Ravi from the doctors office: You're going to India? Wow, that's where I was born. I go back every year. Where will you be staying? Hotels?
Me: Well, a mix of hotels and rough camping probably.
Ravi: Hah! [he grins knowingly] You know it will be just about monsoon season right?

So I've decided I need a motorcycle jacket and helmet with enough chic cache to make up for the fact that I'll look like a miserable drowned rat driving a rickshaw in a monsoon. Let me know if you can hook me up.

Ready

Me: What about malaria?
Travel nurse: Well, you should take doxyxcycline because malaria in India is resistant to the other drugs. Also, get a Polio vaccine. Rabies would have been a good idea, but it's too late.

Me: Here's my application.
AAA staffer: Well, I don't have a specific driving permit category for autorickshaws. You'll have to take your chances with the permit as it stands.

Me: Will this medication be ok for the trip since I can't keep it in the refrigerator?
Pharmacist: Yes, just try not to leave it in a closed car.

Me: I'm going to India to raise money for charity! COOL HUH!
Optical Technician: "India? Huh. Well. You have a very slim face. This pair might look good on you."

it's all cricket.

The good Brits "organizing" the Rickshaw Run plan on having a game of cricket before the launch. Thankfully Andy on forums helped us out with a brief primer on the sport.

You have two sides: One out in the field and one in.
Each man that's in the side that's in goes out and when he's out he comes in and the next man goes in until he's out.
When they are all out the side that's out comes in and the side that's been in goes out and tries to get those coming in out.
Sometimes you get men still in and not out.
When both sides have been in and out including the not outs,
That's the end of the game.

Thanks Andy.

thank you!

Thank you all so much for being so generous. When Dad recently sent an email telling people about the charity aspect of our trip so many of you responded! The money will go to purchase and refurbish the rickshaw to be used and donated to an individual or family in need. Giving a rickshaw to a poor family is a huge life changing gift that enables them to earn a living without ending up in impossible debt for the initial purchase. To date you've given $1,150 dollars, which means we've almost reached our minimum donation! I've raised our target to $2,500 - double the minimum. Everything over the rickshaw purchase price will go directly to programs Mercy Corps supports in India. Thank you so much! If you'd like to donate but haven't yet, use the link in the right sidebar.

What does one say at a time like this?

The night before Dad and Mom leave:

Me: "What are you working on?"
Dad: "Oh I'm making up custom luggage tags for each individual piece of luggage in case we lose them."
There are at least 8 unique color coded tags coming off the printer.
Me: "Oh? How many bags are you taking to India?"
Dad: "One."

Me: "What are these blue containers for, I like them?"
Dad: "They're waterproof!"
Me: "Cool! What are you puttin' in them?"
Dad: "Oh I don't know. I like to choose containers first then what to put in them."

Dad, carrying an old carwash shammy: "Is this iron hot?"
Mom: "No."
Dad: "Well I wish it was."
He turns on the iron and presses it.

To Be Sorted

The packing list includes tripods, rechargeable batteries, tape, whistles, string, baggies, hoses, markers, cameras, cords, cables, bottles, creams, lotions, sprays, notes, a golf tee, and other small items.
It looks like his only bag will be entirely full of small items.
Tonight we've lived up to our name.

No.

One night a couple of months ago I approached my father.
"Dad," I said.
"Dad, will do the the Rickshaw Run with me? We'll take a
rickshaw across the entire sub-continent of India as fast as we
possibly can."
"Do we trade off?"
"Yea, we'll switch off who's driving."
"Then No," he said.
That, I thought was the end of the story. I left the room in utter disbelief. Didn't he want to know more? Wasn't he intrigued by the invitation? How could he not want to be my co-driver?
It took me a few hours before I realized my mistake. I padded back down the hall.
"You know you don't have to exercise right? They're auto-rickshaws."
"Oh really? Then yes. Let's go."

fear & hope

A recent article reported:
"Thousands of people in eastern India have fled their homes in fear as elephants crash through villages looking for one of their herd, which fell into a ditch and drowned over the weekend."

I can only hope that we never fall into a ditch big enough to drown an elephant.

The article continues:

“We have not slept for three days and the few of us left are lighting huge bonfires to keep the elephants at bay without success,”

I can also only hope that this violent, grieving herd has calmed down before we pass directly through that area.

Flathead

There's a reason for the name.