…got my SIM card situation all sorted out.  I am the proud new owner of a 19 digit Indian cell phone number, I’ll probably be back in the States before I figure out how to dial.  I headed to find ‘old Jodhpur’ and ended up walking for over an hour only to reach the end of the road and a ‘lake’ at the foot of the backside of the fort.  On my way back towards the center of town I was stopped by three brothers who wanted to chat.  My enthusiasm for sitting and talking to strangers around every corner is dwindling but I sat and talked with them.  I’m finding myself being asked the same questions over and over again.

What country you from? Married? Not married? Girlfriend? No girlfriend? Where are you staying? How much is your room? What is your occupation? No girlfriend? How much money you make? Have pen? How do you get visa?

After a long day walking and walking and walking through dirty, dusty, dog/cow/goat/human shit filled streets there isn’t anything better than sitting on the roof of one of the hundreds of havelis (private mansion turned into a hotel/restaurant), having something to eat and watching the sunset over the city…

…On my last night in Jodhpur I met another traveler and we took in the night scene on the streets of Jodhpur together.  Having not seen another westerner since London it was nice to talk to someone, especially someone who’d been traveling for the last year and a half.  Quite funny to hear she was bombarded with similar questions and noticed the same intricacies of Indian culture.  A sudden downpour caught us and we ended up sitting it out on the roof of another haveli having beers until they kicked us out.  On the way back to our guesthouse we met a family of cows blocking our way.  Got some great shots with the cows and met their owner, finding out they are owned by someone and that members of the community feed them for good karma.

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…the skeptical stares I received in Delhi have been quickly replaced by inviting and inquisitive glances (and even a few smiles).  I’m actually starting to feel like a mini celebrity.  Last night I met a guy named Aasif who works in a spice shop right around the corner from my guesthouse.  We started talking and he invited me to join him and his friends for drinks.  On my way to meet Aasif I ran into two independent party workers who I’d shared chai with earlier in the day, and they were motioning for me to get on their motorcycle.  Here I am, 8,000 miles from home and being fought over on a dark street in India.

Aasif and his friend were very nice and excited about hanging out with a westerner asking me an endless stream of questions.  At the bar we went to I very quickly noticed that there were no women anywhere to be found and thought there had been a terrible miscommunication only to find out that Indian women outside of the big cities don’t go out to bars.  Makes sense considering 95% of marriages in India are arranged.  I did feel a tad uncomfortable when everyone starting dancing with one another and try as I might I couldn’t keep up with their wicked bollywood inspired moves...

…being woken up at 6:30am by the Mosque across the street and their call to prayer, I ended up watching the sun rise which seems to be an everyday thing now.  After breakfast I walked down to the main square and sat and waited while the market opened.  Watching the market come to life was a nice way to start the day.  As the group grew to 5-6 young kids all waiting for me to turn water into wine or something I began to think about an article I read once about how to survive an attack by a group of children.  I take that back, it was really about how to beat up 11 children by yourself.  People have been very friendly and helpful and because of this I figured if someone saw some poor white dude getting pummeled by 6-7 10 year old boys, once they stopped laughing they might help a brother out…

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“…arriving in Jodhpur I am still not really knowing what I’m doing especially after last night’s adventure hopping on a moving train that turned out not to be mine.  Upon arriving and hopping off the train I am approached by no less than 10 rickshaw drivers, hotel managers and cab drivers; mostly ‘touts’.  Most of the drivers get a commission when they bring someone to a hotel (and even some restaurants) and so even after saying you have a reservation and that it’s ‘confirmed’ I am told my place is ‘very expensive’ and that he can take me to a better place for hundreds of rupees less.  We drive down back alley after back alley, pot holes be damned, going right through them, me bouncing wildly in the back.  The alleys look less and less inviting and I begin to wonder what kind of shit hole I’ve booked until we arrive at 20 foot tall cast iron gates and a courtyard with marble walls.  I’m home…”

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“…my hotel turned out to be really nice and the owner showed me his finger which had ink on it and he explained that today was election day in Rajistahn.  I tried my best to explain what I do stateside and in the end just said I work(ed) for Obama. He got very excited and offered to take me around to various polling places and to see how they do elections in India.  I dropped my bag, got my camera bag together and headed down to check out the largest democracy in the world in action…”

“…my new friend walked me to four different polling locations where all the different political parties had tables setup 200 yards away.  Voting age is 18 and in most places registration ends one week prior to election day.  I was surprised not see any GOTV activity nor any real politicing going on.  Apparently campaigning stops 48 hours prior to the start of voting.  My guide was with the Indian People’s Congress Party (IPC) taking over power from the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and coming five seats short of a majority.  I was able to walk around on my own for a while, checking out two more polling locations, taking photos of people going in and out.  I talked to two members of the Independent Party who were very friendly and interested in my life in the U.S. asking me the typical questions: married? girlfriend? no girlfriend? what job you do? do you like wwf wrestling?”

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After much delay, my travels through India are in the process of being uploaded.  Anecdotes I wrote while abroad will accompany a display of the photography I did during my 23 days traveling through India.

You can find all of my galleries under ‘Galleries.’ That one took a lot of thought.

Enjoy and don’t hesitate to comment if you like something or don’t.

Day 0 – Chicago/London/Delhi
Day 1 -Delhi

“…my driver took me to Humayun’s tomb, a mausoleum from the 16th century in the architectural style of the Taj Mahal.  He said I had 20 minutes.  Thanks but on my first day in India I’ll take my sweet time.  Walking through the grounds was a welcomed escape from the craziness of Delhi.  I thought I would be above or immune to the culture shock but the smog, haze, millions of pedestrians, cars, bikes, motorcycles and animals were really overwhelming on 4 hours sleep in three days.  The grounds of Humayun’s tomb are well manicured and well kept with grass parks and trees lining peaceful walkways leading to the mausoleum and mosque…”

“…food doesn’t usually elicit an emotional response but my first meal is so good I cry.  Likely a combination of shear exhaustion and jet lag…”

“…in trying to find the train station I was departing for Jodhpur from, he had to stop three times to ask for directions and against my pleas, dropped me off at the Delhi Cantt station 4.5 hours before my train…”

“…Praveen sat down next to me and we started talking, er, he talked and I pretended to understand what he was saying.  I did get that I was the 1st man he ever spoke English to.  I lied repeatedly and told him his English was excellent.  He would speak and I would nod and agree, I probably agreed to marry his sister or something or give him one of my kidneys for all I know.  Nice guy though.  He asked for my autograph and held out his palm, not wanting to offend I signed his palm and asked him to sign my book.  His train is leaving now.  Easily 40 cars long, packed to the brim with one car full of people hanging out the windows pounding away on drums and singing…”

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“…this could be interesting.  The train announcements are all garbled and likely in Hindi.  I asked a train employee how I would know which train was which and he said ‘they’ll announce it.’  Great…”

“…train pulled up called the Jodhpur express, which is where I’m headed, it’s just 2 hours early.  Someone said, ‘your train, your train’ and while I knew full well it wasn’t I was tired of sitting in the station and booked it.  Full sprint carrying a backpacking backpack and my camera bag around my neck, sprinting for a train that was already on it’s way out of the station.  The thing is, when you have a ticket in 2nd Tier AC you have a specific car you need to be on and this being my first train ride I thought it best to get onto the right car, just the wrong train.  Train couldn’t have been going more than 5mph but you try that with 65lbs of bags strapped to you, while your clock radio and other crap wiggles it’s way out of a 1/2 zipped zipper.  Made it on the train and put my bags down on my berth and went to the door to get some fresh air.  The staff was really friendly and kept questioning me on why I didn’t have a wife and if I was here for an arranged marriage.  Maybe that’s the ticket, the whole arranged marriage thing.  I mean if you can get over the gross inequalities between men and women, you get a goat out of the deal…hmm goat cheese…Staff wanted photos with me, my first celebrity moment in a nation of over a billion people…”

“…30 hours in and I’m only in London waiting for my flight to Delhi. I had read how Heathrow’s new Terminal 5 was over a decade in the making at a cost of something in the area of $8 billion and how it would revolutionize or at least lessen the hassles of air travel and streamline the process. It’s nice looking, but I think they overpaid…”

“…I wasn’t able to sleep on my flight here and the combination of seeing a sunset and sunrise with relatively little time in between has left me in a weird state and so I walked and walked and walked…this new terminal looks more like a fancy, upscale mall than an airport with Hugo Boss, Polo and other stores I would most likely not be allowed into…”

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I have decided to take snippets of my travel log to use as the text that will go along with my photos from my adventure.

I spent 23 wondrous, horrifying and magical days in December ‘08 crisscrossing the Indian Subcontinent with a notebook, four days worth of clothes, 35% DEET, Malaria pills, too much camera equipment and the drive to do just about whatever it took to see and do everything humanly possible without getting kidnapped, imprisoned or killed of which there were a few closer than you’d like calls but more on those later…

Close your eyes, smell the turmeric, jasmine, motor oil, garbage and curry…hear the car horns, cows, people, drums, rickshaws, motorcycles, trucks, goats and prayers being offered…

Now you’re in India…

A taste of what I have in store.

…23 days crisscrossing the beautiful, chaotic, captivating and horrifying world of India is in the bag.

Where is my seat again?

I can’t believe it’s over already.  I’m still decompressing from the madness and beauty I witnessed and the incredible adventures that seemed to follow me at every turn.  I did a lot of writing while I was abroad and hope to incorporate that into the presentation of what I created while over there.

Looking forward to sharing my experiences, observations and photos from what was one of the most awe inspiring adventures of my life.

Thanks India.

“Truth alone triumphs…”