The first thing I saw on leaving Edinburgh train station was a bearded man wearing a kilt, playing bagpipes, with a sign around his neck saying “Welcome to Scotland”. Clearly, these Scots had a great sense of humour.

Actually, what I liked most about Scotland was that the people were still Scottish. For instance, you see different guys on the street randomly wearing kilts, and not just punks either. Haggis isn’t something you have to go to great lengths to find – people actually eat the stuff (and it’s tastier than it sounds). And the accent – well, I had no idea what half of them were saying a lot of the time, but I liked it. The people are much friendlier than Trainspotting led me to believe, with no Begby’s threatening to glass me. Instead, they were generally quite friendly.

The festival was great fun. There was a real atmosphere around the main performance areas, with tons of buskers, actors promoting their shows, musicians playing kerbside gigs, and other random events. Although you’d probably get sick of it all going on for a month if you lived there, for four days it was brilliant. I managed to catch about eight shows plus a couple of music gigs, with most of what I saw being pretty decent, and the music excellent. I caught up with some people I knew from college and had too many late nights, although never as late as the Irish people I shared my dorm with, who seemed particularly fond of getting back at 5.30 in the morning and shagging quietly in the corner.

Other than the festival, just exploring Edinburgh was pretty cool. Climbed Arthur’s seat, basically a big cliff on the edge of town. Toured the castle. Got lost in the wee hours of the morning. All good. It’s a much, much more attractive town than London, they’ve managed to maintain a great deal of their older buildings and refrained from building too many newer monstrosities. Aside from the new parliament building, which looks like a bad rip-off of Federation Square, without the square, and somehow cost the Scots a billion pounds.

Some photos are up here.

Today will probably be the hottest day ever in the UK. Which isn't too bad by Australian standards, but it will in the high 30's so hot enough. Catching the tube is a nightmare - apparently it got up to 47 on some of the trains yesterday, and up to 52 on buses.

Unfortunately, with perfect timing my bike was stolen last night, so I was on the tube this morning. I left my bike locked up while I went to see a movie last night, and 3 hours later it was long gone. Bikes go pretty quickly in London. So I'll most likely head down to Brick Lane market on Sunday and pick up a bike stolen off some other poor bugger, thereby completing the stolen bike circle of life.

If everybody in London refused to buy a stolen bike then we wouldn't have this problem, but I'll be damned if I'm going to be the first one. Wouldn't reduce my chances of having my bike stolen any (unless I believed in karma). Someone could probably write a decent economics essay on how Londoners screw each other over by all buying stolen bikes.

Can check out where I live if you're really keen:

http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=sw112eg&ie=UTF8&t=k&om=1&ll=51.466527,-0.174075&spn=0.002887,0.010729

The white building slightly above where the arrow is pointing.

Did you vote for this man?

Apologies for the below post sittting there rather cryptically for the past few weeks. My boss at my new workplace was the owner of that particular quote. Considering we work for a rather well known firm, and he is in charge of around 100 odd people, I thought it worth remembering.

I expected the high-flying world of English finance to be a pretty fast-moving, hard-working place. So far, I've seen a lot of people down at the pub at lunchtime, a fair few people checking out page 3 every day, and a hell of a lot of slack days. I have a feeling its partially due to my department being sold off to another group fairly soon, but its still been quite a big change compared to Macquarie back home.

Aside from the very dull job, everything else here has been going well. Managed to get 120 people through the house the weekend before last for one of my housemates birthdays. Excellent party, a few too many South African accents from what I remember, but all in all quite good. Suffered massive memory loss, but apparently some point in the morning was found trying to crawl into the barbecue to go to sleep. Don't remember it but found my shoes down there the next day.

Last weekend headed to Hyde Park to enjoy the sunshine. The parks here are fantastic when the weather is fine, simply because they are so well-used. As soon as the sun even hints that it might be up behind the clouds the English get out there. Shirts come off, bikinis come on, beers come out and everyone has a jolly good time. I even managed to do a bit of rowing on Hyde Park Lake and felt very English indeed.

Obviously the huge event over here at the moment is the world cup. We might all think of Americans as the biggest flag wavers around but the English certainly give them a run for their money come world cup...cars, windows, shirts, papers, ads...St George crosses everywhere. Happily I'm currently winning the tipping competition at work. All my free time has given me plenty of chances to study up on teams. Also managed to develop a minor gambling habit but haven't picked any winners yet. Hoping to see Argentina win it as I put a few quid on them early on. And have tipped Australia to qualify for the second round so will be down at the pub watching them beat Croatia tomorrow night.

As long as we keep getting paid who cares a shit

London.

I've just passed the fortnight mark in London now so I suppose I can start writing a little about how its been.

Photo on the right is of me and Sarah when we went out with Simon who was in town for a little while. Sarah was nice enough to let me stay on her sofa the first few days I was here, while Tim was in Poland.

I have had some success finding a place. Although it is still in Clapham Junction, its in the part that I have come to think of as the wrong side of the tracks. Literally, you take one exit out of Clapham and its a tacky but reasonable little shopping centre and a fairly normal street. The other side (literally across the rails) is somewhat dodgier, with gangs of happy slappers and Essex girls roaming the streets, looking for cheap thrills. I'm going to be staying in a converted pub in this area, which is home to about a dozen people of various nationalities, and looks like it should be fun. I probably could have gone for something a little more sensible...but I thought, I'm 25, how many other times (and I really hope there aren't too many) will I be able to stay in a place like this? It should be good for a few months at least. Hopefully I'll come out of it with a few 'He Died with a Falafel in his Hand' experiences. I move in this Wednesday.

At the moment I'm still at Tim's. He's lucky enough to have a great balcony on his top floor. Good spot to sit when the weather is nice or to watch the stars at night. At any one time there'll be at a half dozen aircraft coming and going through the sky. I also get a great view of the council flats that will soon be my neighbours. Luckily, the place I'm moving into has a roof that you can get up to via a rope ladder on the top floor. The guy who showed me around mentioned they are planning to attach a pulley to the chimney so as to be able to get a barbie going up there.

I've had a few quality English moments. Walked into a pub the other day full of Celtic supporters, had one enormous beetroot-faced fellow up on a table singing football songs. The guy and his huge red nose attempted conversation later on but I could not make out a single word he said. With a fifty year old matron behind the bar and the footy on TV it was pretty much what I expected. I love it when countries conform to stereotypes.

I have been exploring some South London areas over the past week while looking for a place to live. In many of the areas I feel like there is a real frustration or desperation, a bit of an air of violence. Its strange, because compared to India, people here have everything. The disparities in wealth are nothing in comparison...people will be living in a cardboard box in a slum with an empty stomach and the same country has more millionaires than anywhere else in the world. But you rarely see the same anger back in India.

I would like to be able to suggest why that is but I can't think of anything simple enough. Anyway, there is sometimes a bit of a sinister feel on some of the streets here, which can be a little unnerving.

This was pretty much France. Far too much red wine going around.

I've now arrived in London. I got off the airplane and was shocked by cold, grey, windy, wet weather. Who would have thought London would be like this?

I don't know what I've gotten myself into.

London seems very ugly after being in some of France's most beautiful cities the last couple of weeks.

Still, it was nice to go out last night and be able to speak English. Not that I minded the French - actually I enjoyed trying to speak it and had picked up a little.

I suppose this is pretty much the end of my travelling for now. Time to settle down, find a job and an apartment, sort out a bank account....so much to look forward to I don't know where to start.

Everyone back in Oz is welcome to come visit. Hope I see you soon.

Cheers.

France

So I have been out of India for a week and a day. I have stopped saying 'huh' (like yeah in Hindi) when people talk to me, and am doing less head waggling then I was, which I'm thankful for as I look quite ridiculous doing it in France.

I spent about five days in Paris, which I quite enjoyed. People on the street kept talking to me in French, so I was quite flattered to be mistaken for a local! The fashion and the people are incredible - some beautiful people on the street.

It was a nice change to be able to walk the streets without car horns and cow shit to worry about. And to be able to appreciate the scenery in relative peace.

Still, I do miss India quite a bit.

I left Paris and headed to Marseille, where I stayed just a day, then came to Nice. Marseille was alright, I joined in a protest march with some striking workers which wasted a few hours. Striking is France's national hobby after all. No tear gas or burning cars, disappointingly, after watching some of the scenes of other protests here on TV.

I'm now in Nice, which is a beautiful little spot on the Riviera. The Meditarannean is just beautiful, although I hate the pebble beaches. Plenty of beautiful women who left their tops at home - if that was to happen in India, there'd be riots (well, excepting Goa).

Yesterday I travelled to Monaco with some people from the hostel which was interesting. I mean, its a nice spot, but there are more beautiful places in the world. The casino is a nice building, but full of old people who've had too much plastic surgery. The beach was ok, but not spectacular. I can't understand why people would spend millions to live there. I suppose to be seen. Like a big old retirement home for the ultra rich and ultra stupid.

I did enjoy walking around the parking lots. I have never seen so many Ferraris, Lamborghini's and Bentleys. Must be the only city in the world where People driving Porsches seemed poor.

I arrived in Paris today.

I spent the past couple of days with some friends of my parents in Mumbai, Shobahn and his family.

What a city. Beautiful in comparison with Delhi with lots of beautiful colonial architecture coupled with some equally great Indian buildings (I have to be PC, after all).

They took me around to see some of the sites but the highlight had to be some of the fantastic restaurants. I hadn't eaten so well since I got to India. Still have memories of the seafood. Good memories, not the normal recurrences of previous meals I had had on many, many other occassions in India. I'll put up some photos some other point, but at the moment I'm being ripped off for internet time at my hostel here.

So I have now arrived in Paris. I am missing India. Started when I changed $200 for a measly 100 euros. Probably last me little more than two days, whereas in India I could have travelled about for who knows how long with such a fortune.

Continued on the train. In the city of love I was lucky enough to be sitting directly behind a couple of young, lovers kissing very noisily. Such public displays of affection are unheard of in India, and I hadn't realised how much you appreciate that when you're a young single man in a bad mood! It was all I could do to stop myself yelling out a bad french translation of 'get a room!'. Instead, I concentrated on the sky outside, which matched my mood with a resolute grey.

I am back in the same hostel I stayed in three years ago, wearing half the same clothes, paying as much to hire sheets and a towel as I would for two nights in my own room in India. I'm not appreciating suddenly being one of the worst dressed people on the street, compared to India where I looked halfway decent.

I'm sure after a glass of red and a baguette my mood will improve.

Georgia had to travel back to Australia suddenly so for the time being I will be travelling by myself. I don't know where I'll be heading. I have some friends in Belgium, Holland and Germany I'd like to visit.

Hope everyone back home is doing well.

Tom

I haven't written for a while. The past couple of weeks I went first to Agra and the Taj Mahal, then up to Rishikesh in the mountains.

I'll write about the Taj when I'm in a position to upload the photos.

Rishikesh was brilliant. Its up in the mountains about 7 hours north of Delhi, in Uttrachnal. The city is situated in a valley with the Ganga running through it. On either bank sit temples and ashrams, which attracts a lot of the hippie crowd and quite a few plain freaks. But some of the people there are great and I had a really good time.

I arrived about 4.30am by bus. Incidentally, the bus was due to depart at 9.30 at night. I was on the bus at 9.30. But buses here hate to take off when their not full. So there I sat, along with some more and more aggravated Indians, waiting for the driver to fill his bus. One extremely old ex-army Indian guy was really getting worked up, walking up and down the bus cursing and reducing everyone else to laughter. Eventually we left at about 12.30apm.

So I got in around 4.30, with no idea where to stay or where I was. I got ripped off by a rickshaw driver, which I'm quite used to by now, who took me to one hotel that had only one extremely expensive room. So I left. On the way out, I ran into a German guy Thomas, who had been on the same bus and was really pretty drunk. Thomas is one of those guys who gives every impression of being completely gay, and at first I was a little worried he was cracking on to me, and wasn't really so keen about him trying to find a hotel with me. But on the other hand I wasn't so keen on wandering the city by myself in the dead early morning. Later I found out he was married with kids, which I found hard to believe but have to admit was also a big relief. Actually he runs tours in India and Africa for Germans and was just hanging around Rishikesh for a couple of days before his next tour started. It was good to hang around with someone with a bit of knowledge of India. I was with him and some other friends of his for the next few days.

My first day in Rishikesh I explored the town and enjoyed the cooking. Heaps of Nepali chefs who seem particularly good at making mexican, so I enjoyed having burritoes for the first time in many months. There are heaps of Sadhus also - sort of Hindi wandering monks I suppose, people who are supposed to have given up the material life and wander the country meditating and living the life of an ascetic. Many of them, at least in Rishikesh, are supposed to also be people on the run from the law. Apparently its a long tradition in India for thieves to adopt the saffron robes of a Sadhu as a disguise for getting around the country. You see the occassional lost Westerner trying to imitate the dress, growing their dreadlocks, not shaving and adopting a spiritual grimace. Amusing.

Second day I did some rafting and went for a few swims in the Ganges, which is beautifully fresh and clean when its so close to the Himalayas. Big contrast to the sorry state it was in in Varanassi.

Third day we rented motorbikes and explored some mountains and temples in the areas.

Then for the next five days I did some trekking. It was great to get into rural India. I headed to a little place about 6 hours further north, in what I suppose is the Indian part of the Himalayas, with a guide and a Israeli woman. I loved some of the road signs along the way:

"After whisky,
driving is risky"

"Not a race or a rally,
Take it easy, enjoy the valley.
Remember God."

"Life is God's gift."

"Slippery road ahead. Please slow down."
And 50 metres later:
"Thanks"

Actually I'm reminded of a great sign on the bus seats in Delhi:

"Look under your seat.
There might be a bomb.
Report to driver, earn reward."

Which always sounds to me like some sort of really messed up Haiku.

Anyway, we were hiking in an area a couple of thousand metres up and extremely cold. The life that the people live up there is pretty rough. Most have no electricity or running water, and live in pretty basic huts with perhaps a cooking fire at night to keep them warm. I was there in mid March and it was really just freezing once the sun went down, and these people without heaters and half without shoes. They seem to keep themselves warm by working extremely hard. Every night I had to go to bed at 8 simply because it was too cold to stay out.

We spent a few days doing some pretty tough walking first up to a high altitude lake, Devital, then from there to a famous temple a few hours walk from a town called Chopta. This temple was like something from a movie - perched on a mountain top 3600 metres up, abandoned because of the cold when we were there, and covered in several feet of snow. Really breathtaking views. You can imagine how it might be a good place for achieving some sort of spiritual enlightenment. You certainly feel closer to God up there.

Our guide was great as were the people we stayed with. My Hindi's improved a lot over the past month. I'm now an expert curser and can understand when I'm being insulted, which is handy when taking rickshaws.

Anyway I returned to Rishikesh and spent one more day enjoying that peaceful town, before returning last night to the post-apocalyptic nightmare that is Delhi.

I was reading a magazine in Delhi this morning. Tips for weight loss for Delhiites:

"If you own a dog, try taking him for a walk yourself, rather than sending your servant.

Similarly, if you have to go out for water, rather than sending your peon, go yourself."

Peon. I couldn't believe it.

So, I take the train to Mumbai tomorrow, before heading to France Wednesday night.

I am completely over sitting on buses and trains. In the past two weeks, I have spent, without exaggeration, about 20% of my time going from one place to another. And I have another 20 hours tomorrow on the train before another 14 odd hours on the plane.

Still, the past few weeks I have done some great travelling, and I'm not really looking forward to settling down in London.

Last night, after writing my last post, it finally rained. And what rain - a real tropical storm. I was out buying train tickets at Okhla station, and while I waiting it started raining. After fifteen minutes, the streets around the station were flooded. The dirt roads had at least a few inches of water rushing down them.

Some of the power lines must have been knocked out, so the whole area around the station was blacked out. I ended up wading through ankle deep water with who knows what floating through it in the dark. Serves me right for wishing it would rain.

Only three more days of work left here. Although I'm looking forward to heading on to Europe, there are a lot of things I'll miss about living in India.

Definitely the rickshaws. I'm come to enjoy zippng around in the little gizmos. Bargaining I'll be glad to see the end of. But I'm sure I'll miss them next time I'm forced to pay for a taxi.

General lifestyle. Very relaxed at work here. I'm sure its not the same for all people in India, or every job, but in general, I think it would be fair to say that most Indians have a pretty relaxed attitude when it comes to work. Even when its busy, its rarely particularly stressed.

The music. Amazingly, its grown on me, I could never imagine liking the high pitched Bollywood tunes before I came.

The weather. At the moment, its perfect. I can't imagine Europe will match it, even though its coming in to Spring. I do miss it raining once in a while though...twice a month, at least, would be nice. I've seen it rain three times only here, and only once particularly heavily.

Of course, there are some things I can't wait to leave behind.

The bureaucracy. For instance, buying a train ticket. I am impressed at how extremely difficult they have managed to make such a simple act. Bloody nightmare. Don't get me started.

Crossing the street. Traffic in general. Another bloody nightmare. Don't get me started, again.

The dust, noise, pollution. Nightmarish. Can't wait to leave that behind. London will seem untouched in comparison to Delhi.

Looking different. Don't get me started. Well, actually, I should explain this one. Sometimes its good to be a 'gora' here. Its great, for instance, because you can get into a shopping mall, nice hotel, or nightclub, even if you forgot to have a shower this morning, haven't shaved in a week and are wearing you're worst, moth-eaten t-shirt. It's still assumed you probably have cash. On the other hand, because people assume you have cash, you of course get the touts and the rip offs. More than that though, it can be tiring to always be looked at as different. Sometimes its nice to blend in and not feel self-conscious.

The food. Bloody nightmarish. Actually, I don't mind the food, but four is an unlucky number and I needed one more to round it out to five. I am definitely looking forward to some good pastas, baguettes and coffees.

I haven't written an update for a while...I haven't been on too many trips lately, just hanging around in Delhi. I was going to go to Agra last weekend but one of my wisdom teeth was playing up and I had to get it pulled which was very pleasant.

I'm still enjoying life here. The house has been good, lots of cultural exchange going on. For instance, last night Mauri shared some Napolitan wisdom with us all: "A woman without tits is like a man with no balls." I'm pretty sure that particular Italian proverb dates back to Roman times.

Bush is over here now making bad nuclear deals with India, there is a lot of protesting going on which has apparently been disrupting traffic, but to be honest in a city this big I noticed no change.

Yesterday I got fitted for a suit. I'm sure to make a splash when I arrive in London with some custom-made Indian threads.

I have only one week left of work. I'm not sure what I'll be doing after that. I'm tempted to head down to Goa. I fly out of India on the 30th of March, so I've got about three weeks. This weekend I'm headed to the Taj Mahal.

Completely unrelated to my trip, but I got a letter published in the International Herald Tribune today, which I'm sure is uninteresting to everyone but my parents. Anyhow, you can read it here. The original article I was commenting on is here.

First weekend for a while that I stayed in Delhi. We had a little launch event for a comic and film on forests Saturday night so I had to stick around for that.

Sunday I went to the 'Great Indian Rock Concert', which wasn't great, but was ok.

Unfortunately the international act that was there, Sweden's Freak Kitchen, were a terrible heavy metal group, and were supported by several equally terrible Indian heavy metal groups. I enjoyed seeing rebellious Delhi teenagers dressed up in their coolest heavy metal clothes (plenty of Iron Maiden fans keeping the spirit alive in India).

There were a couple of other bands which were ok, sounding something like The Strokes and also playing several of their covers.

The highlight was seeing 20 Indian bikies arriving on their fat motorcycles in synch with each other...they all rode up to park at the same time, roared their engines for a minute or so, then got off their bikes and started posing.

Sanchi

sanchi gate 1
Originally uploaded by lamoney.

Sanchi was the destination last weekend, a small village in Madhya Pradesh (central India) famous for its Buddhist shrines built around 200 BC.

After a marathon 14 hour train trip and 2 hour bus ride, we arrived. It was nice to get out of the Indian cities - Sanchi was a lot more laid back and you didn't have to deal with touts and other hassles.

Click on the photo to see more photos from Sanchi. Again, they're Kate's not mine, still haven't gotten a camera.

The shrines were good but not what I was expecting. The famous 'stupas' are basically big domes made out of bricks, surrounded by impressively carved gates. But you can't go inside them; they are something like pyramids, apparently filled in aside from tombs which are possibly inside depending on who I asked, but in any case not visitable. To be honest I left quite confused about what the hell their purpose was. I don't think the people there were really sure why they were built either. There were also some ruins of temples which looked very similar to Greek temples, and the foundations of a few monasteries.

It was a nice spot with some beautiful country around and a few of the ever-present monkeys hanging about scaring tourists.

We briefly saw Bhopal on the way back, a town famous for one of the world's worst ecological disasters, the leaking of some poison gas by a Union Carbide factory (us owned firm) caused by inadequate maintenance and cost cutting. More than 30,000 people died, and about half a million were left with permanent serious health damage which in many cases has been passed on to their children.

Aside from that, it was a pretty city with a lovely lake.

This weekend I'm taking a break and sticking around in Delhi. I've started a Yoga course which has been fun; in the house, we've got a new Japanese girl in, Ruth & Susannah have left, and Kate is leaving this weekend; and at work, we've got a book launch on Saturday night. Oh, and I'm going to an Indian rock concert Sunday. That's about it. Oh and its starting to get damn hot.

Last weekend I headed to Gwalior with Kate, whose photos I have selfishly claimed as my own; they are posted here.

Gwalior is in Madhya Pradesh, central India. The town wasn't really too special, but they did have a nice fort with some good views.

Gwalior is not really on the tourist map; I saw only a couple of other foreigners in the town the whole time I was there. While this can be a good thing, you tend to get a lot more attention than you might in more frequented parts of India. Everyone will say hello, laugh at you, joke about you. Sound good? On a hot day when you are doing a lot of walking, you get really sick of it and start to wish you could just blend in. Some of the people are good natured (especially in villages etc) but some of them just take the piss. It is ten times worse if you are with a girl. I know plenty of Indians who treat girls with respect; but a lot of the men here are terrible. Staring, whistling, making kissy noises, and groping girls here is common and frequently happens to all my housemates. They would never treat an Indian girl this way, but for some reason western girls are fair game. If any Indians can tell me why this is, please do. And tell me also if you think I'm wrong and Indian girls get treated the same way.

Possibly its dress? The funny thing is I consider the Sari to be much more revealing than a tshirt and jeans...you've got your whole stomach and your side showing, jeans and tshirt is just your arms. Saris are great here I have to say; you'd never catch a western woman over 35 wearing one because of the way they seem to cause your stomach to spill out over your front and your love handles to be more visible than other...but Indian woman don't seem to mind the spare tyre look, and the older woman get, the more common Saris become.

I've also posted up some photos of a going away get-together we had for a couple of my housemates, Ruth & Susanne.

Jodhpur

rajasthani woman
Originally uploaded by lamoney.

A couple of weekends ago I took a trip to Jodhpur with Dorin my housemate (I've stolen his photos and uploaded them here).

Jodhpur is in the western part of Rajasthan, which is quite barren and on the edge of a large desert called, from memory, the Thar. The landscape reminded me of Australia; a lot of low, scrubby brush, a few trees, a lot of dust. Like SA or inland victoria. Bloody hot too.

Jodhpur is known as the blue city for being painted blue. Original, huh? Apparently the mineral that made the paint blue was supposed to repel mosquitoes.

The Rajasthan culture of the last 1000 years is steeped in chivalry and sacrifice, and is very similar to the European culture of the middle ages. A number of Maharajs ruled different parts of the state from their forts, frequently fighting each other on points of honour, and later battling first the Mughal (Muslim) and later the British colonisers. They were known to battle against overwhelming odds and when defeat seemed certain, men rode out to their death in waves while women and children killed themselves by jumping on huge funeral pyres.

Actually, women had a habit of dying this way; when the Maharaj died, Maharaja's donned their wedding dresses and rode through the city praying and giving away their things to the poor. Finally they arrived at their husbands funeral pyre, where they burned themselves to death, in the legends without uttering a word. One of the forts we visited had the saffron handprints of all the Maharaja's who had commited this act.

I have to say, I love the way Rajasthani women dress. In stark contrast to the barren wilderness they live in, their clothes are full of the brightest colours you can imagine.

Often though you will never see their faces - they have a strange way of pulling a veil in front of their faces when they are in public around strangers. Apparently this habit started as a reaction to Muslim invaders - Rajasthani's did not want their women looked at by their invaders. Or possibly, it was something taken from Muslim culture - there seemed to be two different interpretations. The forts and palaces are also designed in a certain way so that one can see out, but not in, a way to allow women to see out and observe the city, without compromising their modesty.

The highlight in Jodhpur was taking a little tour around the countryside there. We got to see a few different communities and the different ways they lived; farming, pottery, carpet making, etc. We also got to see them prepare opium, which has been used for centuries in Rajasthan. Most people in the countryside apparently take small amounts frequently, even daily, generally with their tea.

Slum Demolitions in India

We recently met with an Indian film-maker who has put together a documentary and photo-book on slum demolition India. We will hopefully be publishing his photo-book over the next couple of months.

Over the past two years India has destroyed thousands of slums rendering millions of people homeless. Generally there is little, if any compensation, and frequently, no notice of evictions. Allegations have been made of 'illegal' evictions done by lighting slums on fire to bypass laws. The laws generally favour the state though and tend to criminalise homelessness.

Its a really difficult issue here. On the one hand, people in big cities like Delhi and Mumbai, obviously don't really want to live next to acres of slums. Who does. So politicians get pressured into taking apart these slums, or else residents take the matter to courts who order the illegal dwellings to be taken down.

On the other side, often these people have been displaced from other regions by disasters both natural and man made. A lot of the slum dwellers living in a slum destroyed this year in Mumbai were 'tsunami-refugees' and here in Delhi, a lot come from areas of land flooded by hydroelectric projects or gone dry because of water misuse. A lot flee because of caste conflict. Few come to live in slums through choice. And when their slums are destroyed, no alternative housing is provided so most drift off to other slums, further away from affluent areas.

There is an interesting article on the issue here:

But more interesting were the comments from Indians, ranging from this:

It is the mindset of the slum dwellers which has to be demolished. They prefer to be slum dwellers even when they are encouraged to come out of the slums. They do not want to change their habits or culture as they find peace and heaven in that atmosphere. Some slum dwellers I suspect may be richer than those who live in palaces and pansions. They cannot change their life styles. They believe they are smarter than those living normal lives who are considered foolish by them. UN will do well to make endeavours to change their psychology so that they voluntarily get out of their slums.

to this:

I am amazed what UN has to do with Slum demolition in Mumbai and Delhi. The Slums demolished are not created on free land. It was land that was purchased by individuals or civic body plots which are reserved for the facilities for the people who pay taxes. Does UN mean to say that tax payers not to be considered for their money beacuse someone puts lsum there! The report creator is seems Indian origin. It seems that the natural interest in Indian matters has reflected in report rather than the fair non-judgemental reporting. I would request Miloon Kothari to travel one week in Mumbai local train and lets see if he sustains the unhyginic air from the slum area. I bet, he will never write any report. Mumbai Authorities are strict on demolitions of slums after 1995. Its fair and profesional act. No nation, city or human in the world can bear forcefull occupation on legal owners land. Mr. Kothari, if you so lighthened and touched, please come forward, take one slum dewller person and give your flats one room to live. then talk this kind of non-sense report.

and this:

Kudos to Mr. Miloon Kothari for taking a stand on the issue of slum demolitions in Mumbai! Chief Minister Vilasrao Deshmukh needs to do a reality check if he thinks he can make Mumbai a world class city at the heavy cost displacing an already vulnerable slum population. Blindly demolishing the slums and uprooting thousands of families and children is not a sign of sound city planning. If he wants to wish away poverty from the city of Mumbai, he needs to do more than bulldoze people's homes. Can the Shanghai-bedazzled Deshmukh please focus on applying some thought, time and resources to some strategic and concrete action plans for housing the poor???

I am looking forward to putting together the book, it should be an interesting project.

Mein Kampf in India

Last week here in Delhi I headed to a book fair as part of my work with Viveka. There were stalls there from thousands of publishers and distributors across India.

One thing I couldn't help notice was five separate editions of 'Mein Kampf', Hitler's little rant which he wrote while he was locked up, before coming to power in Germany. Five editions! I saw this book almost as often as I saw 'The Da Vinci Code'.

In fact, a few Germans here have remarked on how, when telling some Indians (Pakistanis also) that they are German, a common reaction is 'Oh, Hitler! Very brave man', which leaves the Germans, obviously, a little gobsmacked.

Now I am certainly not suggesting that Indians are all neo-fascists, but surely five editions of Mein Kampf at different publishers does suggest some strong interest in old Hitler.

Personally, I think its due a little to the nature of life in India. The traffic, laws, government, etc; one word which a great number of people, Indians and foreigners alike, will often use to describe India, is chaotic.

One of the people from Belgium that we hosted recently was a retired Indian diplomat. We were talking about the Republic Day parade, and she mentioned that while she was a pacifist, she could not help but be impressed by the Indian military at the parade...'In chaotic India, they are about the only thing that seem really organised!'.

So maybe Indians are really just looking for a leader who will 'make the trains run on time', so to speak. I can imagine that the idea of synchronised jackboots, traffic laws obeyed, a less corrupt government and the rickshaw wallah who ripped you off this morning being thrown into jail within hours, might have its appeal to an Indian who has put up with the chaos here for a little too long.

Republic Day Parade

Yesterday was Republic Day here, so I headed off to see a parade they hold in Delhi which heads through India Gate and down to the Red Fort. I was there with one of my housemates by 6.00am to get prime seats; unfortunately we didn't know that cameras and mobile phones cannot be taken in because the parade is a 'high security operation'. And here I was planning on selling pictures of Indian missiles to the Soviets. I can just imagine a group of bureaucrats sitting in a room charged with turning the Parade into a 'high security operation' and coming up with ridiculous rules like 'no cameras' and 'no mobile phones'; what do they expect me to do with a phone?

Anyway we returned home and travelled back to the parade minus cameras and phone. Unfortunately my housemate had some gum, but after they had watched him eat a piece, they decided it probably wasn't poisonous and allowed us entry.

We had been told that the parade started at 8am. At 9.30, we finally heard some voices and it began.

After half an hour of speeches in Hindi, the tanks came rolling out. We had been sitting on a grass patch in quite a good spot surrounded by a few thousand people (we were in the free seats as we had missed out on buying reserved seating). Police forced everyone to sit so that everyone could see, even smacking the odd person on the head to get their point across. But as soon as the first tank came out everyone jumped to their feet and pushed forward, until the police waded in pushing people to the ground. This happened maybe a dozen times during the parade, whenever one of the more interesting floats (eg any float with dancing girls on it) came out. Each time it happened we got pushed closer and closer together and it got more and more difficult to sit down again. By the end of it there was a human jigsaw puzzle on the ground, and it was hard to work out where I began and everyone else started.

The parade was a mix of Indian defence force grandstanding and floats from different regions of India. The highlight for me was a huge army vehichle with the title 'information warriors.' Basically it was like a big flatbed truck with a large radar attached and two big glass cubes full of computer machinery. Two soldiers in full parade dress sat like secretaries at a couple of laptops in these glass cubes, pretending to tap away, engaged in some sort of 'informatin warfare', presumably.

Another thought-provoking float for me was from the Annaman Islands, a beautiful archipelago to the east of India. It consisted of a model jail complete with prisoners behind bars and a little guard in a tower. It celebrated '100 years of cellular jail', surely an achievement which can only be captured through the medium of parade floats.

Of course there were plenty of enjoyable floats, like the one to the right from Goa, which had great music and some interesting hawaiian shirts and dancing. And there were also some noisy helicopter and jet flyovers which I always like. Overall it was good fun.

This weekend I'm off to Jodhpur, the 'Blue City' of Rajashtan.

Jaipur Festival

jaipur festival
Originally uploaded by lamoney.

I've posted up some photos from the Jaipur festival and our workshop.

The workshop went really well...the kids there were all from the Rajasthan School of Art. Although they were all between 18-21, they are so much more polite and innocent-seeming then western kids of the same age, that in some ways you had a hard time believing they were older than 13.

The difference wasn't as big in Delhi, where they had a stronger understanding of 'cool' and hence were a little more cynical and stand-offish...but still a nice group.

The festival in Jaipur was good fun. Alan, who is from Britain but lives in Belgium, and Etienne, our comic book artist, performed several times there (see the photos). Played a mix of different styles of blues. Susmit Bose, a local folk musician who works a lot with my NGO, also played. It was good to see a bit of live music, and the venue, an old palace converted into a hotel, was fantastic.

The only bad experience I had in Jaipur was losing my camera, which happened on Friday during the workshop. We had a lot of people come in for a closing ceremony and sometime during it someone nicked my camera off my desk.

I had to stay an extra day in Jaipur and spent about 5 hours trying to get the police to do a report, which I needed for my insurance. At first they suggested it was some sort of insurance fraud job, then eventually I had to accompany them as they did an 'investigation'. The officer I was with interviewed a few people from the school and even drew a map of the 'crime scene'. It would have been funnier if I hadn't been so annoyed at losing my camera and then having to waste so much time trying to get a report done.

Anyway I am back in Delhi now. This Thursday is a holiday here, Republic Day (26th of January - same as Australia Day). I'll be going to see a big parade they do through India gate which should be fun. The traffic around India gate has been backed up for weeks as all the different groups parading have been in training. It should be fun - I think (although I'm not sure) that its a mix of standard military parade gear (tanks, soldiers, maybe even some nuclear missiles if I'm lucky) and 'celebration of India' groups - camels, elephants, musicians, etc. I'll try to get one of my housemates to take plenty of photos.

Happy Australia Day to everyone back home.

So aside from Eid ul-Adha, I have not been up to anything too exciting. At work we are running a comics workshop this week with a Belgian comic book artist. The poster is on the right (guess who designed it). We have also put up a comics exhibition to run alongside it. I spent last weekend putting it up, and this week have had to put it up and take it down each morning as, unfortunately, its outside.

Its been going really well. We have a lot of Indian art & design students and also a few professional artists and illustrators. Etienne is excellent and gets along really well with the participants. They've all been doing some great work. Really its been better than we had hoped. Next week we take it to Jaipur. Unfortunately this is one of two cities outside of Delhi I have already visited; still, a change of scene will be nice, and they are holding some sort of festival that should be interesting. There are quite a few musicians and artists there that should have some interesting shows.


A few more pictures of the exhibition are below...

Teo left suddenly last week...I came home to find a note on the table and all his things gone. We don't really know why he left, and are even more confused as to why he didn't tell us as we all got along with him well. So now there are 6 in our house but I think more will be coming early in Feb.

Hope you're enjoying the heat in Australia. A couple of days ago it went below zero here...the coldest day in Delhi in more than 70 years. Bloody freezing.

Eid al-Adha Buffalo Sacrifice

Eid ul-Adha Buffalo Sacrifice
Originally uploaded by lamoney.

I wouldn't recommend checking out my latest photo postings. I have put up my photos from the Eid ul-Adha festival. You will see this buffalo die. The Eid ul-Adha festival celebrates Ibrahim's (Abraham's) sacrifice; God asks Abraham to kill his first-born son, Abraham takes him to a certain spot where the sacrifice is to occur, the Devil tries to convince him to disobey but Abraham won't be swayed, is about to kill him, God says ok, you proved your faith, kill a sheep instead. That's how I remember the story anyhow. More information on it can be found here.

Many Indian Muslims celebrate this event by sacrificing an animal, normally a goat or a buffalo, since killing a cow is illegal in most of India.

I was invited to go and see a family sacrifice an animal by Harun, a friend of Paula's (my housemate). Harun's family was going to kill a buffalo.

When we arrived, very early in the morning, the buffalo was outside the family home. They took it down to the nature strip and tied it to a tree. There were a lot of goats and buffalos about, and obviously a lot of animals were going to die that day. I think most families that can afford to kill an animal try to do so.

A hole was dug next to the tree, while a few men tried to tie the buffalo's legs to make it easier to pull it to the ground. The buffalo, which was quite young and small, 2 years old apparently, got more and more frightened by the activity around it and was quite agitated. Eventually it was forced to the ground and pulled into position with its neck near the hole.

There was quite a crowd watching, mostly men from the family and their friends. A lot of young boys, the youngest maybe 2 or 3.

The butcher stood over the animal but the killing would be done by a member of the family. The butcher was for afterwards.

So. Harun's father slit the buffalo's throat. Blood filled the hole which had been dug. The look in the buffalo's eyes was sickening as it gave a few weak movements and its tongue lolled out. There was a bit of sound from it but not a lot. It took a while to die, maybe twenty seconds.

It was butchered where it lay, in the dirt. They started to skin it immediately as it bled to death. Most of the meat is distributed to others while some of it is kept by the family and eaten. There is a four day holiday during which the family feasts on the meat.

Towards the end there was just a skin on the ground, a head, and a hole full of blood.

I have seen a lot to shock me in India, mostly to do with the conditions of people...street kids, the homeless, lepers, beggars,etc. Strangely this was the worst thing I had seen. My stomach just dropped when the buffalo's throat was cut. One of my housemates couldn't watch and started crying.

At first I thought the whole thing was barbaric, but then I thought about the slaughterhouses where thousands of cows and other animals are put on conveyor belts and sliced up by machines, and thought really, this was not nearly as horrific.

If you are going to eat meat, I suppose it is better to know where it comes from and understand the decision you are making. And you understand that a life has been taken when you watch something like this.

A few of us are supposed to go to Harun's house for dinner tonight. I don't think I'll be able to eat the meat.

I've put up the photos, I felt I should, but they are pretty awful and anyone who is vegetarian or does not wish to see this buffalo sliced up really should not look.

Ten Things I Like About India

Going through the blog and looking at the comments from one Indian person who happened upon it, I have realised that I've started to write a little negatively about my trip so far, and about India. Which really annoys me because I hate whiney travel writing! Oh, this is different, people are so rude, I can't get my shoe size, the place smells like a toilet. And I have started doing it! And it is especially bad because so far I have really enjoyed my time here and found a lot to like about India. It has been much, much better than I expected and had prepared myself for.

I suppose sometimes I like to point out the strange things and play up on how annoying they are because its easier to describe why you dislike something than to describe why something is good.

So without further ado and in no particular order, I am going to write about ten things I like about India, and I will try not to resort to cheapness, eg, longnecks are $1 a bottle.

1. I do like the cows. Even though occassionally I tread in their shit. I like the way people feed them, I like the way they lie in the middle of the road and everyone just drives around them. I like that occassionally you have to dive out of the way to avoid mini-stampedes. And they use the manure for fuel, except when dumb westerners step in big steaming piles of it.

2. I like the food. Even though I get the feeling it doesn't like me.

3. I like the way people are happy to give you directions, show you around, etc. The other day when we were trying to get to Gurgaol, the rickshaw driver wouldn't take us as it was too far, but he took us to a bus stop and found someone going to the same place. Then that guy shoved us into the share-cab when it arrived to make sure we got seats, then made sure we paid the right amount, then made sure we knew where we wanted to go and that the driver knew too.

4. I like that Delhi is a place still designed partly for pedestrians. I mean, yes you have to walk on the road most of the time, and cars and bikes beep you constantly, but what I mean is, everything you need is generally within walking distance. Just near our house is a little market that has a few chemists, a half dozen general stores, an electrician, a plumber, a doctor, etc. Its not a city that expects you to have a car to get everywhere.

5. I like the temples and the way religion and modern life go side by side here. I suppose I mean; religion is still taken seriously here, but not in a weird fundamentalist way like in the states. People have little shrines in their houses, or little statues in their cars. Or a sandal hanging from their rickshaw, because feet are unclean and ward off bad spirits, and you won't be in an accident if bad spirits aren't about.

6. I like that when you call a person on the phone here, instead of hearing a 'ring ring' noise while you wait for them to answer, you are more likely to hear the lastest Bollywood pop song. So when they do eventually answer their phone they will hear you singing along; 'Gujarati, gujarati, nana na na nanananaaaaaa'

7. I like having a cleaning lady. I know, I said I wouldn't use cheapness. But sharehouse living is really great when you have someone else doing the dishes...

8. I like that I have learnt to appreciate how brilliant a tap with running water is. I don't even care if you can drink the water. When you haven't had a shower for a week and you turn the tap and water finally comes out instead of just a sputtering noise and nothing, you know what a sweet, sweet thing working water is.

9. I like that not everyone wears jeans and a t-shirt, or a business suit. People still wear what people have worn in India for centuries - Saris, kurtas and skirts, scarfs wrapped round their heads, turbans, etc. India, with its films, music and fashion, has really managed to maintain its own culture to a large extent, rather than just opening up its arms and mimicking the west

10. I like the tea. No, I can't lie...I'm bloody sick of it. Its good occassionally, but I am starting to ask more and more for plain black tea, because I am completely sick of the sweet, milky mixture they give you otherwise. It seems to no longer have any taste for me and I feel it sitting in my stomach for hours after I drink it.

So, nine and a half things I like about India. There are plenty more but those ones came to mind first...

By the way, the photo above was taken by my housemate Kate, who has taken some excellent photos here. They are online here if you would like to see some more.

Happy New Year everyone! Hope you all had a good night.

I decided to stay in Delhi - Friday I was feeling too sick to face the train trip to Nanital. Teo ended up staying in Delhi as well, he was afraid Nanital would be too cold. Apparently it was freezing, around 1 or 2 at night, although the photos Mauri and Paula brought back were beautiful. I'll have to check it out in a couple of months once it warms up a bit.

I went to see a Hindi movie on Saturday. 'Bluffmaster'. That's not a bad English translation, it was released here with that title. See, the main character is a master of bluffing, sort of like a con artist.
So naturally they came up with the title 'Bluffmaster'! On the whole it was actually a pretty reasonable little flick. It was partly a rip-off of 'The Game', including wholesale the final scene where Michael Douglas jumps off the building only to crash on to a big blow up mattress which has been planted there in expectation of his fall. But 'Bluffmaster' takes more of a romantic-comedy slant and was a little more 'zany', which is a word I don't use lightly.

I was struck by the costumes in the film. The girls were running around in boob tubes and mini skirts, which I had no problem with, but you never see girls in India wearing anything even remotely like that. Or if there is a place where they wear those clothes, I haven't found it yet. I mean, they will wear western clothes, but nothing too revealing. Most Indians, girls at least, seem incredibly conservative when it comes to things like sex and fashion (I've heard). Pre-marital sex is a massive taboo here. Guys are desperate for it and girls under massive pressure to avoid it. I don't know if that's all over India or more in the North, but its very strong here. Its funny because their music videos and films are full of references to sex and are very sexual themselves, but in reality society here is strongly conservative.

Saturday night I went to a small party with some of the other trainees here in Delhi. I wasn't really feeling too well so small and quiet was fine with me. At midnight firecrackers went off all over the city, including heaps on the street outside our house.

On Sunday Teo and I visited Gurgao, which is a mini-city on the outskirts of Delhi. It houses many of the major multinationals' headquarters here in Delhi, and is also home to several of the big Indian call centres. Lots of luxury apartments and shopping malls. Stepping into one of the malls is like visiting another country for a day - doesn't feel like India at all (except when you go into the movies and you get frisked - I'm not sure why they do this, I suppose they have a very strict candy bar policy). The drive there was the highlight - we got into a 'share-cab' with 10 others, basically a big four wheel drive, with a driver who seemed to think he was playing GTA. Some very insane driving even by standards here. At one point a car in front of us tried to make an illegal turn, temporarily slowing our driver down - so he reached out the window at about 40 km/hr and smacked this car on the roof for making him brake. Nice move.

Varanasi Photos

early morning on the ganges
Originally uploaded by lamoney.

I've uploaded some of my photos from Varanasi, available here.

They're not in a set as I am not allowed to create any more sets - but the last twenty or thirty odd photos are from Varanasi and they should be the ones that come up first.

I forget to mention the ceremonies on the Ganges that occurred. They had a nightly concert with lots of bells and drums which was quite interesting to watch. More authentic and more interesting though was what you could hear in the mornings. At about 4.30, 5.00, a chanting rang out across the river that was reminiscent of Indiana Jones & The Temple of Doom (sorry, I tried to find a more high-brow reference and failed). Getting up and listening to it at that time through the fog was really something. The noise they made sounded incredibly ancient and...well, actually pretty spooky too. You wouldn't go for a walk through the fog listening to that sound anyway.