tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64661579945494223542024-02-04T00:19:34.768+05:30Impressions from IndiaRhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-44727942223964673982008-03-15T12:21:00.005+05:302008-12-09T04:56:48.121+05:30New Casa, New Roomie<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszBSStdq02wTmgdgaxf1EZDYdnarP5G8zWRg2HqgfaTeEMuIneKnCiabBYLsypteuZuZg4FSXzGihybFwJ3ZR8Br1_I9FiYtSN0dkb84BmM6y4MZ8SlwRWIHlggu6JmFnZCG-JQq9ATh_/s1600-h/New+terrace.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177858462298316978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszBSStdq02wTmgdgaxf1EZDYdnarP5G8zWRg2HqgfaTeEMuIneKnCiabBYLsypteuZuZg4FSXzGihybFwJ3ZR8Br1_I9FiYtSN0dkb84BmM6y4MZ8SlwRWIHlggu6JmFnZCG-JQq9ATh_/s400/New+terrace.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">Well, hi there. I found myself a new flat at the beginning of January. A new year. Felt like time to learn about a new part of the city, live in a new place with a new roommate...oh, and save some money at the same time. This place is a little less expensive than my last place. It was kind of difficult to move though to be honest. I really loved our old place in Safdarjung Enclave and it had really become my home. All that said though, I'm glad I'm now in Jungpura Extension, next to Bogel Market and Nizamuddin West.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5DTXJqleviFnyZo618DITMkw6T_ZVvR6cnapa9jJqu1q8KRGhRH1PRg_acqEQZ1RK7ZYgySrZ-jomPKN5yT4FGnXmNr-zZDtng7Si5J8TbzpI9WnGdp93g_pT1du-n0e200h5Z28lkPY/s1600-h/New+living+room.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177858324859363490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5DTXJqleviFnyZo618DITMkw6T_ZVvR6cnapa9jJqu1q8KRGhRH1PRg_acqEQZ1RK7ZYgySrZ-jomPKN5yT4FGnXmNr-zZDtng7Si5J8TbzpI9WnGdp93g_pT1du-n0e200h5Z28lkPY/s400/New+living+room.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9JQDuYR9YYzL_dTv6dbhvjIN3nq3M6yCRCKBRxuwsz5UnpRtuEpnm8ORmk1GVHETPTOEEQX73DPtwtGADyAH2b5PoIcuMihjIAKbh_MJ_MgcYxIB7K4uf6mwmOACQoG-Q9trL14BjMwwF/s1600-h/New+bedroom.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177858157355638930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9JQDuYR9YYzL_dTv6dbhvjIN3nq3M6yCRCKBRxuwsz5UnpRtuEpnm8ORmk1GVHETPTOEEQX73DPtwtGADyAH2b5PoIcuMihjIAKbh_MJ_MgcYxIB7K4uf6mwmOACQoG-Q9trL14BjMwwF/s400/New+bedroom.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSor1N_3eF6Anv5l2gGSkrT2t6WF7fht3eXKPIwanZYslLCmY4yjGYv4zLyq3QOP8NwsR048PUR89Uc9m6SKyeDF8BZEzrWR08ImptPhHzsmthha7YnS38eC2zz1sJs60_WavRXeH3upTJ/s1600-h/New+street.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177857994146881666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSor1N_3eF6Anv5l2gGSkrT2t6WF7fht3eXKPIwanZYslLCmY4yjGYv4zLyq3QOP8NwsR048PUR89Uc9m6SKyeDF8BZEzrWR08ImptPhHzsmthha7YnS38eC2zz1sJs60_WavRXeH3upTJ/s400/New+street.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Our mighty "service lane" next to Mathura Road. We're the top terrace, second from the right at the top of the photo.</span><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx15Wn2z5LKqM8Jzij46OG7qSYrM-OpKOmiR140cU2oVaLC1i5HpuPDb1zaprQLc4YNWSY9gNoL4QeTPKjVEcKQsKoAKD85NCDW3hzzmD2rygkBgtOcozipi4kAEDYGL8GvAYealSAtcgS/s1600-h/New+Roomie_beard.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177857856707928178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx15Wn2z5LKqM8Jzij46OG7qSYrM-OpKOmiR140cU2oVaLC1i5HpuPDb1zaprQLc4YNWSY9gNoL4QeTPKjVEcKQsKoAKD85NCDW3hzzmD2rygkBgtOcozipi4kAEDYGL8GvAYealSAtcgS/s400/New+Roomie_beard.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTnA1BI453AW9wqkzxQIYx0bQadkTyxO_GC_1MVKexRhR6DH_-TTzYPIe54AbJWuuU1zsHhMktQBjRB66JK9z-lrpkgbC0j0uIS8YWis6s9D-h6eV-7HvwJOCPzqTEaEVd5g2gBZ-cPJgY/s1600-h/New+roommate_kiss.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177857697794138210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTnA1BI453AW9wqkzxQIYx0bQadkTyxO_GC_1MVKexRhR6DH_-TTzYPIe54AbJWuuU1zsHhMktQBjRB66JK9z-lrpkgbC0j0uIS8YWis6s9D-h6eV-7HvwJOCPzqTEaEVd5g2gBZ-cPJgY/s400/New+roommate_kiss.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div></div></div></div><span style="font-size:85%;">Mehul Shivastiva, my new roommate is from Kolkata, West Bengal and is a journalist. He got his undergradate degree at William and Lee University in Virginia and then had jobs in both Ohio and Sacramento before moving back to India last spring. We've found that we get along well. I scratch his beard and he showers me with little kisses.</span>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-13155971191300585532008-02-12T19:41:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:56:48.736+05:30Save a life - buy garlic bread<div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">I bought a loaf of <em>Harvest Selects</em> Garlic Cheese Bread today for a dinner we are having with some friends tonight. The back of the loaf of bread begins,</span><br /></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">"Garlic has been known to prevent everything, from the common cold and flu to the plague. Garlic also helps you improve cardiovascular health. Prevent certain types of cancer and counter infections, including Anthrax. Combining the properties of garlic and wholeshome goodness of a loaf of bread, Harvest Gold, the No. 1 bread in Delhi, brings you this delightful Garlic Cheese bread."</span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Maybe the Red Cross will start recommending garlic bread for their 3-day emergency kits.</span></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">*</div><div align="center"><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">We did have a really great Thanksgiving feast. It's always really nice to share our American traditions with our international friends.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166099594809628786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx9u6txK1vLpG4nkDiTJ73zDXMewBpJfNiEJ7hBqf1cDGmXji4hSS2HMV0dNn7wNl4gXNyKgTyKG-9Jm7JYbLxxdKzQEmWyR1Le90TlcrLMpOUasmvSypGWOLaYWUhwgULlJsOmJU0Hpfj/s400/Thanksgiving.jpg" border="0" /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Pictures from New Year's at the Spanish Embassy. Well, the first is at the apartment before we left.</span></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166099298456885346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0bMbYKrJF6JK9Dq8HhKDVt80OWs7Ezqt-fgV80xVoDWQHdAl8L12GhysrgLJOJx3q3QLYs8Oiw-xlCaOfnmV_70_eC2rzdSw3sUT9h4E7woXWe7Uo7RW01IoFdBuaflTZ_kaYusKM3tBn/s400/new+year%27s.long+hair.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166099027873945682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz46TMUOJAi0vgmwcLIXZmNBDKqW4Bw1NUozT048LTehhjD038Gk_znaWObI6KRBSh-S1dWVrhSItFlvjXMVOiPfDJPCDCMbum1bijAa7uVCcHkSqVXL5UdcfQyxR1805Qlgi5JcRmQ72N/s400/new+year%27s.group.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166098877550090306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9VVSGc63lUtKrD9eEySOKM5w85rpalpTPHW3WmEFevQ6wsEa_et6erDZIacWw8UV0kf19ocWeVP1I_k3lWkBVLhVPKFT-W3ULFVK5W7bExq-1MpDrxvbJLaI_dxXy9qhBdxrS0PbZteva/s400/new+year%27s.laurena.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Then look who I found in south Delhi for a night of giant Indian family dinners and a few beers?</span><br /></p><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166099770903287938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvn_9hRhZ2L9s2upMfV5v2VT0wn1caC9aj8QusVIEvLmPQGUhJ6evHOZmqY-aRTm50wpNpZpz5eAn6z7gKbIJzVZhFUpmWJGyO-d4p6LgjF0sVtG6vH_xoeCwMxWe6G0TShlCeOWoSPWdD/s400/neal.josh.bar.jpg" border="0" />Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-32297992923406440612008-02-07T17:44:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:56:52.691+05:30Back with a Vengence<span style="font-size:85%;">Ms. Reiman, Ms. Liljengren, Ms. Reiman, Uncle Scott, Madam Speaker Pelosi, Grandma, Prime Minister Singh, ladies and gentleman,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I know it has been a long time since the last post on this blog. I have received emails, phone calls and death threats that if there isn't a blog update soon, I better make sure to double-lock the door at night. Lucky I knew that none of those sending those lovely letters of encouragement would ever be able to find my new apartment, let alone give directions to it. Not succumbing to any pressure that was put forth in those friendly pieces of communication, I have now posted the best blog entry in the history of the blogosphere - purely on my own terms. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Enjoy, rejoice, praise, do a "puja" (look it up). Here it is. Strap on your seat belt. Get a cup of coffee. Heck, grab a box of tissues. This is going to be a hair-raising, emotional, maybe life altering experience that I promise will be well-worth your time.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Let's assign your reading homework at the beginning. And I don't want to hear any complaints! I'm sure only 20% did your reading from last time. I know how this works. I have teacher friends.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">First, an article on the monkeys of Delhi. Our Deputy Mayor actually died a couple of months ago because he fell off his terrace after a number of monkeys attacked him. </span><a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/11/08/america/letter.php" target="_blank"><a href="http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/11/08/america/letter.php"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/11/08/america/letter.php</span></a></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Second, an interview with the Vice Chairman of DLF, India's largest real estate developer. And interesting look into the massive development, infrastructure and commercial, that is taking place in India and the equally massive challenges in doing it.</span><br /><a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.mckinseyquarterly.com/Economic_Studies/Productivity_Performance/Putting_a_roof_over_India_An_interview_with_the_countrys_biggest_developer_2066" target="_blank"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://www.mckinseyquarterly.com/Economic_Studies/Productivity_Performance/Putting_a_roof_over_India_An_interview_with_the_countrys_biggest_developer_2066</span></a><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;">Third, an article that I have kept for a long time and keep forgeting to share. It's an op-ed entitled, "Iraq - Whose Oil is it Anyway?". </span><a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/03/13/opinion/edjuhasz.php?page=2#top" target="_blank"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/03/13/opinion/edjuhasz.php?page=2#top</span></a><br /></p><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;">Alex and Tina arrived on the 19th of December, after a short (wink, wink) layover in Tokyo. Awaiting them at my casa in New Delhi were Marina, Emily and my friend Dasha (L-R), who was on her way back to the US after having spent the last six months in Kabul.</span><br /></p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164220575379442354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXHKNIc6tP6yNjzyxKTQJS9wZFK4HOhRfjp4QV2zCrbNg7vhYMntjEC6ZBu5OF3pi-Oz-HOOCD9w1dnymt5p7rzPZYFEzqWLPqxK6KVUe6SCgzTWT5iFPqcZovn6hMOO0vQQ_gqOBV0acd/s400/10.jpg" border="0" /><br />Their first couple days in Delhi we got to see some cool spots like the Qutab Minar, one of Delhi's oldest and coolest monuments, originally built by a Mughal Emperor with an inferiority complex.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWkuaDkgCnznU1ruXrU8GPOoOQt_kD5rCjHx4bE_RicJhVZUxA_Be0a7ODx-QcfIygiX_rgUtLNK37dSaNoqxaI7GZjWF5n9mvGmciL7O4gEsPTp_UnO9B0qF3mQu7iftZd275eLItQrNn/s1600-h/Qutab+Minar.+tall.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164220356336110242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWkuaDkgCnznU1ruXrU8GPOoOQt_kD5rCjHx4bE_RicJhVZUxA_Be0a7ODx-QcfIygiX_rgUtLNK37dSaNoqxaI7GZjWF5n9mvGmciL7O4gEsPTp_UnO9B0qF3mQu7iftZd275eLItQrNn/s400/Qutab+Minar.+tall.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Among the coolest of well over 300 photos that were taken during Alex and Tina's time here in India.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1GVrfWE2VFtYWgan4psynhEb3QtJienNgQVfTAjVl_2hYXl_E2vJL5GpVOiPttMWsP3CxToMRKd4NlXoaZWliKfAG856sW5XTbbZksS-nVMGLaGpmzKxlbpcua7ATkzrXt7I7S3FtlnjZ/s1600-h/Sunglasses.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164220120112908946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1GVrfWE2VFtYWgan4psynhEb3QtJienNgQVfTAjVl_2hYXl_E2vJL5GpVOiPttMWsP3CxToMRKd4NlXoaZWliKfAG856sW5XTbbZksS-nVMGLaGpmzKxlbpcua7ATkzrXt7I7S3FtlnjZ/s400/Sunglasses.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Then we were off to Pushkar, a very small town (pop. 15,000) in Rajasthan. This is also the city I visited in late November for their annual Camel Fair. This time around there were probably about 200,000 people less.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6YLEEfWT0_GnVtaBCUcd5l-hBXuEqwqt6n_Zvx2NpR18EFgMlJcZbIdohdkbyYuOg6dIPAAmZ2VdLBOgbIgs0EBaIYF3H4TwG5hMFDx0YDm9pvjHW92hIAOKqj20x72TqDl-7lzy-MutI/s1600-h/Pretty+door+way.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164219621896702578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6YLEEfWT0_GnVtaBCUcd5l-hBXuEqwqt6n_Zvx2NpR18EFgMlJcZbIdohdkbyYuOg6dIPAAmZ2VdLBOgbIgs0EBaIYF3H4TwG5hMFDx0YDm9pvjHW92hIAOKqj20x72TqDl-7lzy-MutI/s400/Pretty+door+way.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> During our time in Pushkar, between eating and mingling in the many markets of this quaint city, we rented scooters to check out "old" Pushkar and explore the surrounding areas. Our formidable bike gang can be seen below. </span><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdr_bGe_VYMXfnnT3BuuaF17l7nlZO78lPwr5_wFi1_1_lqTU_iSYEhUxZs_BitnaijoJi_jRm0Jxicvz91uipcEv81JenTtoQDEQluRf6NXEFGEhu3pMDblcLuaA8VEwa0aQtzvrIiNm/s1600-h/Moto+gang.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164218586809584178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdr_bGe_VYMXfnnT3BuuaF17l7nlZO78lPwr5_wFi1_1_lqTU_iSYEhUxZs_BitnaijoJi_jRm0Jxicvz91uipcEv81JenTtoQDEQluRf6NXEFGEhu3pMDblcLuaA8VEwa0aQtzvrIiNm/s400/Moto+gang.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Pushkar is unique in that it has a number of temples located at the summits of the surrounding hills. We hiked to the top of the largest one to watch the sunset.<br /></span><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyiX4DCInL-1TCpmhBP6nsMGbQf6Mu6Rxvfx29kXqsQ61e98XfHpmxXzRag92-xn2MK0qlkmBliZn1G_Y-gY7eV2RrUl6DQtYQ4UARojqEaqS8d9P5IIfQg98B65wpOcgePJUrdFsiEy62/s1600-h/top+of+hill.pushkar.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164218303341742626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyiX4DCInL-1TCpmhBP6nsMGbQf6Mu6Rxvfx29kXqsQ61e98XfHpmxXzRag92-xn2MK0qlkmBliZn1G_Y-gY7eV2RrUl6DQtYQ4UARojqEaqS8d9P5IIfQg98B65wpOcgePJUrdFsiEy62/s400/top+of+hill.pushkar.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Then a few hours later, we hiked to the top of a smaller one to watch the sunrise.<br /><br /></span><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpxg2T5GPeRi10iO7axSCL6wiegv1aFKkRAjkLnzdbD_7WMGyYJjGtDOg7N8K2pGfCYxhtwUQLSlcyKCJjZSVVZnlxZhSyBNK2gkIp06jl20g2FNW_Dep1XoBmZg3IWOCfDYeRwUUBJW2/s1600-h/sunrise.pushkar.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164218105773246994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpxg2T5GPeRi10iO7axSCL6wiegv1aFKkRAjkLnzdbD_7WMGyYJjGtDOg7N8K2pGfCYxhtwUQLSlcyKCJjZSVVZnlxZhSyBNK2gkIp06jl20g2FNW_Dep1XoBmZg3IWOCfDYeRwUUBJW2/s400/sunrise.pushkar.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">After our sunrise hike and breakfast, we set off for a round of yoga.<br /></span><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGk81oKNtqyPX8PcSxFFejrr0BAQwh3Okfu6BedY7biUdhcq2Bn0WVSyotXkoEYkeXx34DzhZSEDetPyLwrW6ipAQObV_0MtSoYv4YhyGxyrDP6cshcSnxywnVJz2EERbFSQf3U00IMEkE/s1600-h/yoga.pushkar.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164217882434947586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGk81oKNtqyPX8PcSxFFejrr0BAQwh3Okfu6BedY7biUdhcq2Bn0WVSyotXkoEYkeXx34DzhZSEDetPyLwrW6ipAQObV_0MtSoYv4YhyGxyrDP6cshcSnxywnVJz2EERbFSQf3U00IMEkE/s400/yoga.pushkar.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR-fRnDA29-B9PZr_Y-QzYyQyenS8M350GJ4fJ4jk8WQJrAXcbOLNvGnzqkgPAI7qQ0fuyXTeFTn2elR-yMMJo-Wflt18vlK10N8hKDLCw9CRpDu15blpTI-W8osItKsmtz4apE6-baUES/s1600-h/yoga.legs.pushkar.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164217680571484658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR-fRnDA29-B9PZr_Y-QzYyQyenS8M350GJ4fJ4jk8WQJrAXcbOLNvGnzqkgPAI7qQ0fuyXTeFTn2elR-yMMJo-Wflt18vlK10N8hKDLCw9CRpDu15blpTI-W8osItKsmtz4apE6-baUES/s400/yoga.legs.pushkar.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Yoga prepared us for the overnight camel safari that followed though. Rocky, Babu and...damn, I can't remember Alex's camel, well all three of them were sterdy steeds and got us to camp like good camels.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164218865982458434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKEnQLov0uTiB4Mco5clAztDnVjkcOcMGn-MGzt6zxPR57TwcpXc93sMQM74VRs8DL_2ADRP3Pgs0D9pDc2ILiwfAbVSvauQxjV50P8SDTqiW5zjYUSxS73jPIgvJilJva85RE3C7GzQJ-/s400/camel+possy.pushkar.jpg" border="0" />I even found my Pants Twin to share a blanket with!</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164219411443305058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGekEALLVWi3Mj9q7d1P9uEZlb2BWdz4BJKiFDLeXa1PS1wMF-AasB9G83RsAgdKiiGfcIiSHCDGT_xkqc9d7CBns40GumfuqSeQZ2gSWiRKYTRwNzY0C13sAPSRUfMTRKBKcYnn9-53NC/s400/Pants+Twins.jpg" border="0" />Our camel safari guides certainly took care of us. I even got a hug out of the deal :)<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164219153745267282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuj-hwZw73FwO29JeHn3493difoDiRcmmZ_S0n8CX87wmcnppwnI1hu93vZ3vY-vA3KJ5JIFSXiuTOoDNqK4hMM79sdeLubUhpQFjPYqcLI0mjySrBCzPQxArDzIUXzkcDM9Q4y98gATgF/s400/Camel+Crew.jpg" border="0" />Back in Pushkar and with a few hours to kill before we boarded our night bus to Agra, we roamed around the city looking for interesting places. We even found a hostel I had been renting out and didn't even know it. Some foreigners were having a difficult time finding it though, so I thought I would help out.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164219883889707650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz3q5s-6HEy569Hgf_lADS-SpLw531qMqkxJ_u9PDARS9U1vckjqBM-VkjIA3rm_sHlU9K2F08lkHZy95GlHW-DerO9Yl3yuUbItnuAS33Y6dhf2Lt8NPVeZJsOWWFXGkAAOsvYzEoA6yj/s400/Joshi+Guest+House.jpg" border="0" />We finally made it to Agra and the Taj Mahal to celebrate Christmas. More than once I have thought that it was really cool that we celebrated Christian's most important holiday at a famous Muslim monument in a predominently Hindu country.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj092OfCXqyqLbk_SPiTl4nASVBQotaVvXzdtRGtdb4ERts2Uy36iigUCnya1qPvyS5W7Zq3rCMrWBD-2zSf7vj2LIqXxbrLNzt_68bS-18C6uw3tgoaFp7YcKTPdTHpevyZP6XzCNVQGG0/s1600-h/Taj+3.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164217375628806626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj092OfCXqyqLbk_SPiTl4nASVBQotaVvXzdtRGtdb4ERts2Uy36iigUCnya1qPvyS5W7Zq3rCMrWBD-2zSf7vj2LIqXxbrLNzt_68bS-18C6uw3tgoaFp7YcKTPdTHpevyZP6XzCNVQGG0/s400/Taj+3.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Tina was so excited to finally have made it to The Taj that she could hardly control herself. She just kept jumping and yelling "yippeee!!!" Alex caught one of her spontaneous acts of jubilation.</span></div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIL3qq2SCu-GKQaHgn5x427RFM2tioeGdwE2bgQNOWcDPJ9rRfk3DmFTkls_9oT6ZTHgY8jnTZr2w4MGkjzk_YUmmiRDFaOl-wneaXxsnd9ItqYcw0mUeRKdXaY6Uw3YarW_MzFImYXeO6/s1600-h/Tina.Taj+Doorway.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164217238189853138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIL3qq2SCu-GKQaHgn5x427RFM2tioeGdwE2bgQNOWcDPJ9rRfk3DmFTkls_9oT6ZTHgY8jnTZr2w4MGkjzk_YUmmiRDFaOl-wneaXxsnd9ItqYcw0mUeRKdXaY6Uw3YarW_MzFImYXeO6/s400/Tina.Taj+Doorway.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">After Agra, we were off to Fatehpur Sikri, the fort that the Mughal Emperor Akbar built. He actually moved the capitol to this location for 15 years before he realized that it's difficult to sustain a capitol city where there IS NO WATER!!! He built this freaking capitol where they had no access to water. Not one of Akbar's better moves.</span><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgTbIj68zY2vvgHNkjvbNviR9IRB1NMLFk95L5BKGC29SY1JJ3HI7ACE5y73DTN3Vh7l01IZ-u3LttjlFtpW3v3Gtdz4WeJHohaGZSeHfr4GWMLVESVIUPJamdmUq6c4XmJENv35i877d/s1600-h/Fatehpur+Sikri.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164217014851553730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgTbIj68zY2vvgHNkjvbNviR9IRB1NMLFk95L5BKGC29SY1JJ3HI7ACE5y73DTN3Vh7l01IZ-u3LttjlFtpW3v3Gtdz4WeJHohaGZSeHfr4GWMLVESVIUPJamdmUq6c4XmJENv35i877d/s400/Fatehpur+Sikri.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> We returned to Delhi to have a great dinner in Emily's new apartment. The stars were out. Okay, that was dumb.</span><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKmDrUOn5zT1sIatvg_lTYDJ7QpmWtCxzxAbOrxCaB7DDleUwVTOx2hlnfFapq7e5OLSQfhiBUSPI7bE-DKl7POFH6UF9qHgdgNiIgeEJe3LpPa53r91EwO1ATuvdsTzmiyoDPnAfiIDcf/s1600-h/Dinner+at+Emily"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164216877412600242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKmDrUOn5zT1sIatvg_lTYDJ7QpmWtCxzxAbOrxCaB7DDleUwVTOx2hlnfFapq7e5OLSQfhiBUSPI7bE-DKl7POFH6UF9qHgdgNiIgeEJe3LpPa53r91EwO1ATuvdsTzmiyoDPnAfiIDcf/s400/Dinner+at+Emily%27s.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Back in Delhi we also finally got to celebrate Christmas in the way that really matters. We opened presents. Among our many gifts sent by Santa from his Everett home near Silver Lake was new underwear. Santa always seems to know that come December my underwear from the previous year is usually ready to be discarded.</span><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPcgGzk0cNR1NjEfSen9Dcp9y-MpdCtLr20Y8pmbBRHFT8gPUHt5rBZHQtqiBae_sPdPelYci-3Epo4sCH-dtI82A5W5j6b2NFcCuhapNNE2GdSzFpB00dBYAi3XjllJD8aifHd743ENEN/s1600-h/New+underwear.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164216460800772514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPcgGzk0cNR1NjEfSen9Dcp9y-MpdCtLr20Y8pmbBRHFT8gPUHt5rBZHQtqiBae_sPdPelYci-3Epo4sCH-dtI82A5W5j6b2NFcCuhapNNE2GdSzFpB00dBYAi3XjllJD8aifHd743ENEN/s400/New+underwear.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> It was really nice to still celebrate Christmas with family :)</span></div><div align="center"><br /><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCKvfmeUKmdy3CWBJJvSqlSfoBjHB8tQiQuJmCTjESNQJOM0F66q1UN5c5OsV2Sdb8sZMRhDCBW2dWOnt7OcqVqsy3FeWoB9zYe4rWHMGDiU-GHbk55m_GXqiDR5tJvoZ2wFzhE0EmbDZm/s1600-h/Xmas+morning.+27+Dec.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164216254642342290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCKvfmeUKmdy3CWBJJvSqlSfoBjHB8tQiQuJmCTjESNQJOM0F66q1UN5c5OsV2Sdb8sZMRhDCBW2dWOnt7OcqVqsy3FeWoB9zYe4rWHMGDiU-GHbk55m_GXqiDR5tJvoZ2wFzhE0EmbDZm/s400/Xmas+morning.+27+Dec.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Next up: Goa. Amit and Josh's boy weekend in Paradise. Amit was out in Mumbai visiting his family so we planned a trip to meet midway between Delhi and Mumbai. Goa was pure paradise.<br /></span></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8PvsFbA6VA5CMp4VMfuWCh9VLrWgh-fmkD_3IIXq4rwoXJEhyphenhyphennevfd1nMcB-IHf1pA8bZYQZTTXrZjy9l8H6Ucrr491qd2QuImJJD5Kb_3HCWp4bd9sjwSpa_PVnyb7J5GYk0RoxfD_H/s1600-h/amit.josh.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164215919634893186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8PvsFbA6VA5CMp4VMfuWCh9VLrWgh-fmkD_3IIXq4rwoXJEhyphenhyphennevfd1nMcB-IHf1pA8bZYQZTTXrZjy9l8H6Ucrr491qd2QuImJJD5Kb_3HCWp4bd9sjwSpa_PVnyb7J5GYk0RoxfD_H/s400/amit.josh.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0s3uRY82bYiqRy7svzAM4bX1h-P5uGINx1LmgD_fTrSqoihlNe5dCvUAOzeT_evxMCPJOgAmaLsDJl76pr_ZfDWYp0-n8fdOEr5ZQSkIamrwTboFQO2pD38PK6l1iMcX43DyY1N_63Ti0/s1600-h/first+time+on+beach.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164215795080841586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0s3uRY82bYiqRy7svzAM4bX1h-P5uGINx1LmgD_fTrSqoihlNe5dCvUAOzeT_evxMCPJOgAmaLsDJl76pr_ZfDWYp0-n8fdOEr5ZQSkIamrwTboFQO2pD38PK6l1iMcX43DyY1N_63Ti0/s400/first+time+on+beach.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> It was a pleasure to meet Amit's father, whom I hadn't met for. He also enjoyed Goa with us.<br /><br /></span><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyThh7obeVfIYiRcmjPByDnFPMiIZbE5KTAZHS-oZhINwDEwuGwKV1LQ5jViHYlygPqiLIsijIJgp-HEyS-Ynt-C_vf_56mLRGRzjzHj1ibADFIUT_FtVJoYbh3qcMvp2YbnQ7iKsYH3dd/s1600-h/amit+and+dad.2.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164215687706659170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyThh7obeVfIYiRcmjPByDnFPMiIZbE5KTAZHS-oZhINwDEwuGwKV1LQ5jViHYlygPqiLIsijIJgp-HEyS-Ynt-C_vf_56mLRGRzjzHj1ibADFIUT_FtVJoYbh3qcMvp2YbnQ7iKsYH3dd/s400/amit+and+dad.2.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> There is not a lot to say about the Goa trip, given we spent most of the weekend in restaurants or on the beach, but it was great to see Ami. Hopefully, the pictures pretty much tell the story. It was a great weekend away from the chaos, noise and pollution of Delhi.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0TOECfFmXxsmHQcgy5-nVglfJNcb4hlzn_8LVwmJdT9kSi_nfsN7iL5BxoJKqmcTjztuxT4ZhvJF1u_YPOYWAbH4Y-rNERD3as__QuFxoreHbSw8qkeJsAMcKIOqnrGHndLf_FHUbOXzD/s1600-h/wind+balloon+thing.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164215223850191186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0TOECfFmXxsmHQcgy5-nVglfJNcb4hlzn_8LVwmJdT9kSi_nfsN7iL5BxoJKqmcTjztuxT4ZhvJF1u_YPOYWAbH4Y-rNERD3as__QuFxoreHbSw8qkeJsAMcKIOqnrGHndLf_FHUbOXzD/s400/wind+balloon+thing.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164314398940023490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjliRr0Qn5x77cNAl4wvBkgnyGi4oKQXBooJkZPSXZRqq9hkaEiu56tStEOMtLwCfWY0sZiFfFfxZYyOLYOKSkTPUxEcwJGUne9KmlNYAEtKvE7hKzSssHhWJ1vyKjGAMzzrCxnCukDovKa/s400/sunset.jpg" border="0" /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9uyxNDEdK__SpID7Gu2JAhSPRQmsAjCKt5cbM4LP60L518WF0qJlvima6nAX1X85cy5T4fUrALVKbwShum2JcU-VUvOpPHSzl-tCaIMUc2L-UIAPUn8GOrIEMj6UomanNe1-rCiyp9f2/s1600-h/sunset.feet.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164215056346466626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9uyxNDEdK__SpID7Gu2JAhSPRQmsAjCKt5cbM4LP60L518WF0qJlvima6nAX1X85cy5T4fUrALVKbwShum2JcU-VUvOpPHSzl-tCaIMUc2L-UIAPUn8GOrIEMj6UomanNe1-rCiyp9f2/s400/sunset.feet.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Back in Delhi, we recently celebrated my 27th birthday :) I figure it didn't matter we were 29 days past my <em>actual</em> birthday. A birthday isn't official until you've had a party.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFk0hkqBtFyRisDcOcLWTJCGllyGiBnRqmLOTkcmNjq_RVyBHBrM9GrtcSa_YgbxsnUqmCCmAbxFKgAmXzCnBbR-SBcQGyYAWBUAMmtCK7Qu69pIqHDwhyphenhyphenJ3LG98an8f4z0SZSRDZjzqCO/s1600-h/birthday.candles.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164214777173592370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFk0hkqBtFyRisDcOcLWTJCGllyGiBnRqmLOTkcmNjq_RVyBHBrM9GrtcSa_YgbxsnUqmCCmAbxFKgAmXzCnBbR-SBcQGyYAWBUAMmtCK7Qu69pIqHDwhyphenhyphenJ3LG98an8f4z0SZSRDZjzqCO/s400/birthday.candles.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixnTPlH9cH_DR8XoxuqPwlw-KhNwFL9FHDfHLI4tarFO1Tb7gVgGPEpMOTk8HCvSuozIhs2rneP66M5L43OD46EIevqYgYYsycUmKv2ioDK-pXbP9qoBXtSr65wv9sMrV_6U68EkFJXdht/s1600-h/birthday+group.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164214635439671586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixnTPlH9cH_DR8XoxuqPwlw-KhNwFL9FHDfHLI4tarFO1Tb7gVgGPEpMOTk8HCvSuozIhs2rneP66M5L43OD46EIevqYgYYsycUmKv2ioDK-pXbP9qoBXtSr65wv9sMrV_6U68EkFJXdht/s400/birthday+group.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Then just last weekend, my friends Anna and Mattius from Sweden swung through Delhi to visit. When I studied abroad 6+ years ago in London, I met Anna and her three Swedish roomates who I became good friends with. I hadn't seen Anna since then. Her and Mattius are traveling the world over 10 months! They have already been to Russia, China and most of southeast Asia in their first four months. Now they have India for six weeks. Later, they will be traveling to Mexico and the western part of South America.</span></div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_6sh0dy2A972UzSGnSIMpasUC72O6_OC0OZkSQOxbCdKHw6d6XIn1oUnjxLfOqCTL49gzwD_ACayXhdORDbIrZJWZPyu5IPFrSJBzHbDIdmC6Av-rVNCZFLRa7ETB0JvVUXgpfcLmtVLl/s1600-h/Josh,+Mattius,+Anna.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164214158698301714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_6sh0dy2A972UzSGnSIMpasUC72O6_OC0OZkSQOxbCdKHw6d6XIn1oUnjxLfOqCTL49gzwD_ACayXhdORDbIrZJWZPyu5IPFrSJBzHbDIdmC6Av-rVNCZFLRa7ETB0JvVUXgpfcLmtVLl/s400/Josh,+Mattius,+Anna.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">That brings us to the present day. I am happy, healthy and continue to enjoy my Indian adventure. I am definitely starting a new chapter. Good friends have gone. New friends are entering my life. I'm in my second year at CII and finally have some paid vacation time to use. :) I am living in a new part of Delhi with a new roommate. I send you all my love and will do my best to continue to keep you updated on my adventures - and an adventure it is.</span></div><div> </div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">Don't forget your reading homework!</span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-64744992092252058112007-12-14T20:33:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:56:53.551+05:30A normal weekend...You know, we went to a camel fairJust another weekend, except that we explored India's own famous camel festival, which takes place every year at the end of November in Pushkar, Rajasthan. We really had the opportunity to do and see some new things on this trip. For example...<br /><br /><div align="center">We got to play with swords.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143847454579181794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJ_TfvYPY2rulhF_WXhxLhiEqne_ZBD_6pEjtFI2fhYZlgMjV3gZPfPdKySaMsB5DcAFiAInzFWiVEAS4Gd11LOXIJJzRRhii-akCtv9q41LCznYp2tef_DH7ecOEvmXuHRIl903DPR7K/s400/push.con+las+espadas.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center">We got to try sugar cane like our Indian brothers and sisters.</div><br /><br /><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP24T9qIXGJZPdlcCV9YGY51D0b_DFILaYVB08kvl_n3wcWba4p4-Pve24ebbqleSOvkuz9yNYQEBuyo_lS-kmN6PkPGPTjvQesI4BMn_u5UsTfef6LyKQq8acz_N9MC1UtetS9423LODb/s1600-h/push.josh+comiendo+ca+¦a..jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143846853283760338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP24T9qIXGJZPdlcCV9YGY51D0b_DFILaYVB08kvl_n3wcWba4p4-Pve24ebbqleSOvkuz9yNYQEBuyo_lS-kmN6PkPGPTjvQesI4BMn_u5UsTfef6LyKQq8acz_N9MC1UtetS9423LODb/s400/push.josh+comiendo+ca%2B%C2%A6a..jpg" border="0" /></a> Well, feeding camels I guess doesn't exactly make the list of new things. But I still am not quite an expert with these animals, which are the closest things to dinasoars I have ever seen that still exist on Planet Earth.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOtzaJbFueeAbjRgRRhEWl4OQirmY-h94b9__YIm9LmUoCDnToCioerS8C5f-pjXLKN75aBddXjxdUKb6a_UT8i2k9IssLZE-JbrNGyV5YQGrKecg6kRuL0P296rhHHLdeyAPHqcC0UMG/s1600-h/push.feeding+el+camello.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143846604175657154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOtzaJbFueeAbjRgRRhEWl4OQirmY-h94b9__YIm9LmUoCDnToCioerS8C5f-pjXLKN75aBddXjxdUKb6a_UT8i2k9IssLZE-JbrNGyV5YQGrKecg6kRuL0P296rhHHLdeyAPHqcC0UMG/s400/push.feeding+el+camello.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="left">Ruth kissed one. I'm not really down with that, NOT THAT THERE IS ANYTHING WRONG WITH IT!</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143846054419843234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieai3sZnqAwQ8pgzMPz5Wjnfnpk6hrbdsWS6UwTgiJbMaNTRx4SojT9yRvp5kuUgTpw9YkaFiN0E2F6ycreEm-SJspFikXmjhT8-pkGX3_OBHcOqT8SJsaaq3FyTS44clb5MVDGfMyg1K4/s400/ruth.kiss.camel.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCtTmjsNOdGUqbYc-Q6vw3Hrx6MYhN6l4ynGufxsqOLTbUKv5ubq-TE8mkbkVFYZym9HIMoOxoW7mVxv0Em-Dxxsb8-24da2a22OqTO-hQHpld2c6d7_jzbMCRBRouPOI7hD5K9uKrRHS7/s1600-h/group.stadium.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143846372247423154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCtTmjsNOdGUqbYc-Q6vw3Hrx6MYhN6l4ynGufxsqOLTbUKv5ubq-TE8mkbkVFYZym9HIMoOxoW7mVxv0Em-Dxxsb8-24da2a22OqTO-hQHpld2c6d7_jzbMCRBRouPOI7hD5K9uKrRHS7/s400/group.stadium.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="left">And then we got to see what was maybe the last thing I expected to see. But then again, in India you kind of start expecting the unexpected. What could those three be in such awe of?</div><div align="left"> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143845371520043138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUq2BO5nWeX-eEQEh_wSofcbOj1Tmdy37n9S7G0MSFs2dFEgFFsvSA6MEMTwLJkchujc6RX0cQJBd65-PXWKdiozq1fMMLplc1_xTTn9-nHCxl4PkmobnlHwdd4DSLk3rqq6xDa0Q50tY7/s400/Watching+cars.motos.jpg" border="0" />Stunts straight out of a traveling circus. It was awesome.<br /><br /><div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143845646397950098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwHbILz3l_73Hpbwg5dJrqs6OVeH6xd7ZIFoQWpUIFITkSSyZ9O4pT9Hlsq20Sz5ps2bSKs2bGBL9HFJ-gXbn_232iywe0KchaPBGu8tZl1jISZlNALvu03RAbVXvBumPqh8HQalaVrEF8/s400/moto+and+car+sideways.jpg" border="0" /></div><div>Well, at least half the giant group fit in this farewell-to-Pushkar-oh crap-we-only-have-beds-for-half-of-us photo.<br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ZBKOjDd7CBbCbHHVsy62NPdusr8Qpsyzz9M2oOdyg6lAxxpGbTQNQEywtQuKUz7TFnV8e916V_sszXdYs0Qbzk9Z_IXsWLXej8l1cFRsauyMiEmEF7F2OZeyKDQXppbsdGLc9uWPcuNh/s1600-h/train.goinghome.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143845019332724850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ZBKOjDd7CBbCbHHVsy62NPdusr8Qpsyzz9M2oOdyg6lAxxpGbTQNQEywtQuKUz7TFnV8e916V_sszXdYs0Qbzk9Z_IXsWLXej8l1cFRsauyMiEmEF7F2OZeyKDQXppbsdGLc9uWPcuNh/s400/train.goinghome.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-74774972644361510202007-11-21T20:35:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:56:55.365+05:30If your name is "A" or "T" you may want to be cautious in what you read or see below. I don't want to spoil the surprise that awaits us in Rajasthan when you come for Christmas. However, maybe you should go on and see because it will make you even MORE excited than you already are! Ahh, the choices in life.<br /><br />Well, the plan was to take a nice 13 hour train to Jaisalmer, Rajasthan, a small, dusty, brown tourist town about 60 kms from the Pakistan border where we would embark on an amazing Indian Jones-like camel safari. Of course, things are never that easy.<br /><br />After we missed our first train (due to <em>small</em> error made by the travel agent where he told us the wrong train station - no biggie), we improvised and took three consecutive sleeper buses. To say the least, we were simply excited to be on our way to meet our camels.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135312650397453170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ1SHAgZXn6B9p4o1y4jknycqVeGBtDIp960hoopDuv_nWHJPtR4ncnBgVQLlmS29FcatYlZYdy2qIWtKJbiCvb-yv-5NEoRTT6ZsmSYTznF4xsdheHSYfMTvUqKIgYEf-aeNwkaGxiMd5/s400/excited+on+the+bus.jpg" border="0" /><br />We finally settled down though and the 21 hour trip to Jaisalmer actually ended up being quite fun.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_b0V-jB6JKy68crxAHi4A7VICAIly_UKrQMdIqqxHVMlo7R7-Q7g-qILQVxPF7FI_kSfM7_4KXu3Jv9sK2j8-CD9RaiYWO4DsWjFM9oibbUV8-yj6aYbEDZ2wBQCpmpXKEdjq-7cjVx3v/s1600-h/out+the+window.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135312027627195234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_b0V-jB6JKy68crxAHi4A7VICAIly_UKrQMdIqqxHVMlo7R7-Q7g-qILQVxPF7FI_kSfM7_4KXu3Jv9sK2j8-CD9RaiYWO4DsWjFM9oibbUV8-yj6aYbEDZ2wBQCpmpXKEdjq-7cjVx3v/s400/out+the+window.jpg" border="0" /></a> Greeting us in Jaisalmer was the amazing Jaisalmer fort. Everything is the color of sand...<br /><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135311550885825346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR0cjSyQOdaEj_0egZDgZXGP92EW2KqGQb8kCSvZcO7NW3DhE9hZDcZMXpZ0Aq_IVXi3VTNAf2AvDldnRjFM-MMBEDaJFZp06Cb5UP37D9NGcFmB7tLTN0NGXAVxzNjD9GpDNR5jpA_5t6/s400/fort.jpg" border="0" />...and greeting us in the desert:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqk8egcZnDrDwE1haHhc4GGk4r4mFH4zygbTR8aP3ZTxRa4GQx4LdtinHwuS-CQMqoRkj1H2cG82pI360zBzlibik4aE5irIhvnUU3sw2-4pYWU0enhgseilJ34EEyf3IKclQqslWAjW5e/s1600-h/camel.open+mouth.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135311709799615314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqk8egcZnDrDwE1haHhc4GGk4r4mFH4zygbTR8aP3ZTxRa4GQx4LdtinHwuS-CQMqoRkj1H2cG82pI360zBzlibik4aE5irIhvnUU3sw2-4pYWU0enhgseilJ34EEyf3IKclQqslWAjW5e/s400/camel.open+mouth.jpg" border="0" /></a> What you can't see below is the giant cooler my camel (the youngest and presumably the strongest...or simply lowest on the camel food chain) that got stuck carrying a big cooler with food and ice.<br /><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlln_u9g5oJIOhq83gMKfkjq7qzmp0_EAUcpoq8WfUoWqCxcon5rauQxK-ue7-yaAsNr4z3SEIvmeAwGGJAclG6AXSWHlDUm3XmzI9qGJnMUOQd9p2bNE6zUofj88RiJas8omeoSiJipn/s1600-h/Day+2+compressed.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135311280302885666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlln_u9g5oJIOhq83gMKfkjq7qzmp0_EAUcpoq8WfUoWqCxcon5rauQxK-ue7-yaAsNr4z3SEIvmeAwGGJAclG6AXSWHlDUm3XmzI9qGJnMUOQd9p2bNE6zUofj88RiJas8omeoSiJipn/s400/Day+2+compressed.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135311417741839154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip85LMrSeP4ES3gnFIR2GimmFLHDsLbVgq2f-o5-SZz8YgxA8qIkBpBA0lT3iqF9AiY3WzwHbDPwsSXdFHqsPiNsbDhq5brn_RP9i63_eJw4urB10Scwk4DY3iGQ3ftBP-uE1l4uBKctQ2/s400/blue+sky.green+turban.jpg" border="0" />On our first day, we were accompanied by four people, two men and two boys, 7 km to the camp where we would sleep that night. Parbu, pictured below, goes to school from 10-1 p.m. every day. Then at 4 p.m., he walks tourists like us 7 km to a desert camp, sleeps overnight in the desert, wakes up at sunrise and walks back (at least 7 km, although I don't know exactly where his school is) to town in time to go to school at 10 a.m., then he does it all over again.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0wDJ2no05Rm-NzGPEfqRx3iM2XS1naX8uopy56ibkWySqlUL8b8d9yT-2qdtYwcMi8CGgzqIU1Lz2WaSVsQIg0PMAlkdTVav20Y9xWJHQjU-o5fO_o3zhNRJHM9r4cdvsRinjMB_F_w8/s1600-h/Parbu.directions.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135311190108572434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0wDJ2no05Rm-NzGPEfqRx3iM2XS1naX8uopy56ibkWySqlUL8b8d9yT-2qdtYwcMi8CGgzqIU1Lz2WaSVsQIg0PMAlkdTVav20Y9xWJHQjU-o5fO_o3zhNRJHM9r4cdvsRinjMB_F_w8/s400/Parbu.directions.jpg" border="0" /></a> Sunset.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgt77UwlmYo9gnRMcBYczsxQSAxGE8anu3Tv4f1HC4n8VlNuK76FZgCXUpPjVV5absIz-qA4b2KwjEt20hnUHxR3rmai80_Egm7XvW-tNzwsgdKPfB8TWOI90HdX-zGLOuA-BWQvtXyuS6/s1600-h/sunset.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135311044079684354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgt77UwlmYo9gnRMcBYczsxQSAxGE8anu3Tv4f1HC4n8VlNuK76FZgCXUpPjVV5absIz-qA4b2KwjEt20hnUHxR3rmai80_Egm7XvW-tNzwsgdKPfB8TWOI90HdX-zGLOuA-BWQvtXyuS6/s400/sunset.jpg" border="0" /></a> Sunrise.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99wfVuZOjNahW0eKfnpqzSo6PyFPubkOTF3bsXAT9dcmpJPGbWIiHuKMhGU2pAMaA8JKnj-ut3stnnwuIqA93wYsps2GA-ELRkrAJhJAVwYhyphenhyphenkdmqstHVk9zRwJrJAIMBenEbBRqF8EIm/s1600-h/sunrise.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135310833626286834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99wfVuZOjNahW0eKfnpqzSo6PyFPubkOTF3bsXAT9dcmpJPGbWIiHuKMhGU2pAMaA8JKnj-ut3stnnwuIqA93wYsps2GA-ELRkrAJhJAVwYhyphenhyphenkdmqstHVk9zRwJrJAIMBenEbBRqF8EIm/s400/sunrise.jpg" border="0" /></a> There's not enough times in our lives where we get to see an amazing sunset and sunrise back to back.<br /></div><div>Here, we were spying out on the enemy camp.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_rr0KafwRD0EUHZmb4_vuoIl02Rv8RGh_Im-JLvSlDkKwzuA_iW-z-OSOcY7g7XGRuUHfOdlShM6TQA5_tJWJVd1CQK56UjDr3fxzIUUcCP28ldyWcKNCXMbK3fsjUoTaWKmtsCk11dO/s1600-h/lookin+at+the+enemies.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135310575928249058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_rr0KafwRD0EUHZmb4_vuoIl02Rv8RGh_Im-JLvSlDkKwzuA_iW-z-OSOcY7g7XGRuUHfOdlShM6TQA5_tJWJVd1CQK56UjDr3fxzIUUcCP28ldyWcKNCXMbK3fsjUoTaWKmtsCk11dO/s400/lookin+at+the+enemies.jpg" border="0" /></a> All of our guides made us a nice lunch on the second day to cap off an unforgettable weekend. Nearly as unforgettable was the <em>strawberry</em> the camel left me in a place to be named in private.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib2X4U5jYFIOK256spEmoMg0YFSaytFuOo39E4n-RZFy9xr0L04XKiG5sqMYpYbsXIl8KeVjERjaFgXrJnTUMOClZxFbKJczZEtBSss4AxB_4Ygk2KPxh3nbXarwIBZcdsdWvg_M8Xqla9/s1600-h/group+shot.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135310365474851538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib2X4U5jYFIOK256spEmoMg0YFSaytFuOo39E4n-RZFy9xr0L04XKiG5sqMYpYbsXIl8KeVjERjaFgXrJnTUMOClZxFbKJczZEtBSss4AxB_4Ygk2KPxh3nbXarwIBZcdsdWvg_M8Xqla9/s400/group+shot.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-12993691870540294752007-10-27T19:52:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:56:57.437+05:30The most militarized what?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMRL4iYLeDfAx05pAs99IlyrbsnP70uO4Wqp4g43c32bsPZtv8qc_4l-hCyX0IqL1TUGCod8CAju1xeLriw_QLf0etZFisiVBJEVl35T-UWyQBbM9zGz0iWZzN_3Wlj3MvBxYOJ3EhBAW/s1600-h/Tickets.real.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126024580402789986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMRL4iYLeDfAx05pAs99IlyrbsnP70uO4Wqp4g43c32bsPZtv8qc_4l-hCyX0IqL1TUGCod8CAju1xeLriw_QLf0etZFisiVBJEVl35T-UWyQBbM9zGz0iWZzN_3Wlj3MvBxYOJ3EhBAW/s400/Tickets.real.JPG" border="0" /></a>So a couple weeks ago, I had the opportunity to go to Jammu & Kashmir (J&K) [courtesy of the J&K government who was holding an expo for Kashmiri handicrafts and handilooms], India’s northern most state, which borders Pakistan to the west and China to the east. According to a documentary I watched about a month ago on the partition of India, J&K is the most militarized region in the world with over 700,000 Indian troops stationed up there (Remember there are roughly 150,000 American troops in Iraq, a much larger geographical area). Despite the minor presence of soldiers every 50 meters along the road and others standing aimlessly, gun clutched across their chest, in farm fields outside the capitol of Srinagar, Emily and I decided to take the approach that it is never as bad as people say it is.<br /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126023772948938322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZneq1RVWvZ7vo8T1OlvNDQ1KYASOT9A6cS9Be3AKxhyphenhyphenvpfozAdKXbUyAmp6FSKTSRydTkGx8kaiXy_OqEeQXOQBxscbsoLkEybg77tDIfl9XbZkG52kFTMo7O6PbQI_Wx71Km8QbjSru1/s400/Intercontinental.JPG" border="0" /><br />“Some days, no. Some days, yes. I make no guarantees.”<br /><br />This was the response by Bashir, our taxi driver, to Emily’s inquiry if he felt safe in Srinagar despite the violence of the 1990’s. We laughed and sarcastically said, “thanks”, quickly agreeing that we would keep that comment to ourselves and not share it with our mothers. It was just too memorable not to share though. Sorry, Mom.<br /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126022664847375874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgDJwmbM4XSzJSGb-UaC_wAMhHhmHlQxndPyIH286LUL0Ic7h_gj8ilHexKglJJpKYN1RnPCy0mKlbWVjKRn49yRtgpln4J9dDRWRhY5OqFYYOFlxSAjysQawY9TsceV4-JjymMA4jJWE3/s400/cow.JPG" border="0" />Golmarg (a mountain village two hours outside of Srinagar) is home to the world’s only genetically modified cows.<br /><br />Now I can’t back up this statement with any fact other than the above picture. But you tell me, someone had to of messed with that cow.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126023038509530658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBCV6WxkC1vIYjYuJCdoBlTp3hCtCLt1eKJYfQZAwzskP-VxvYzItrzS7ikWAnEaECO4SBrw1zib5496LJWRu2Ci10CYXDG58hEv9x3oOOTdXIlpIt7SlPZqKkykYJ_GZvVUnECWIeu1Nw/s400/Boat.feet.JPG" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126022939725282834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xJG59IUCLa7VvwNqLV-k5KSHodf6jrPTfAhMrKX0VAPAztKXjostBpMc7ofo5uXNn7vu7H059dHiZ9sxqMRq20tRMoIYl85a1tfWa72M7kii3B-uVK1MnRSM_DaL-pT79_to36iAM9hH/s400/boat.disapproving.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><em>(Emily was clearly not impressed with the asking price for these Kashmiri shawls.)</em></div><br />While walking back across the beautiful Golmarg valley an man in his 50s drove by in front of us in a pick-up with three kids in the bench seat beside him. The truck suddenly braked and backed up so that he was eye to eye with us and then he said:<br /><br />“Would you like to play golf?”<br /><br />You inevitably have conversations in India with Indians that surprise you and they often ask you questions that take you by surprise, “How much do you make?” “How much do you pay for your rent?”, however this guy could have posed a thousand different questions to us before I would have guessed he’d invite us to play golf.<br /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126022278300319202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNbqjDnzTP0EFEwtBNOhYSBgRQVIhbobj9SGHLnTxhzUKtS6qT1pNEXn9dXgX78moFX5I10B5pGDPIOxocTvOhgPziIgAD3nKsaAfkpBXrwDwIaT4YPYFgU4o_B54tToFO0HZBhR6-QHct/s400/sunset.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126022467278880242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg46U4t2KfH6H82zhzFOBilu-z_MBHwmt_HnVSMmOYXXLND9qPV7fd0jTSKNPO69HwUTt99VuhnkgiOCk0LUi0PfITHB5fYFUl1Bdk1tpIUhyphenhyphenRpl1fXC1LK85SuqHV2lE3bRrsujYJn0KDQ/s400/hiking.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />“Allah’s Pizza”<br /><br />Who knew Allah made pizza or set up a shop in Srinagar? And it made me think why have I never seen a “Jesus Christ’s Pizza” place? If there is not, there should be. Terry T, if you are reading, there is my idea to build up your youth group in West Seattle.<br /><br /><div>Speaking of Allah, Emily and I went to Jammiah Mashid, Kashmir's largest mosque in the heart of old Srinagar. It was completely empty when we visited it and had this amazing light streaming through some of the windows.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHsq8qDm44zWJSVzAPYXpGPaqGECP4hzoKMoavcS7G-WJiYSiYh4uagWSLINH_W6zhs8I-uIll6pyLHXCtTo1djUDZjnKIF-wMWkk6vTYxLhLWyvHNKcmHzYLSMdmSsEAcy_znHaZtu4kC/s1600-h/Mosque.ballerina.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126023510955933250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHsq8qDm44zWJSVzAPYXpGPaqGECP4hzoKMoavcS7G-WJiYSiYh4uagWSLINH_W6zhs8I-uIll6pyLHXCtTo1djUDZjnKIF-wMWkk6vTYxLhLWyvHNKcmHzYLSMdmSsEAcy_znHaZtu4kC/s400/Mosque.ballerina.JPG" border="0" /></a> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXEzukc2j-O-vDjWKopcnU1YnkVXErrax_-PLE9YtjJWvypHnmGKXFSGySQ-QqJVbDQalw0a7NUTQ0EJNIyi-OE6lHl4Pm2AhpThKWCXtt1I46LEzXNabGAXyRTzLPZOPpwPVKxHq40eOQ/s1600-h/Mosque.Josh.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126023154473647666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXEzukc2j-O-vDjWKopcnU1YnkVXErrax_-PLE9YtjJWvypHnmGKXFSGySQ-QqJVbDQalw0a7NUTQ0EJNIyi-OE6lHl4Pm2AhpThKWCXtt1I46LEzXNabGAXyRTzLPZOPpwPVKxHq40eOQ/s400/Mosque.Josh.JPG" border="0" /></a></div></div></div><br /><p>My favorite quote of the weekend though was when my hotel doorbell rang at 7 a.m. (before my scheduled wake-up call). At first, I wasn't sure if I had heard it correctly and so I waited to see if there would be a second knock. Sure enough, about 30 seconds later, it came. I threw on the minimum amount of cloths and walked drearily to the door and opened it. Standing in front of me was a nice looking Indian man, wearing normal everyday-type clothes, so it appeared he didn't work at the hotel. He paused for a moment and then asked, "Are you Sandeep?"</p><p>After 10 months in India I know I have picked up some Indian mannerisms, but physically speaking, I still look no different than the white bread American boy I've always been. I restrained from bursting out in laughter because I thought the question was so funny, however I kept myself together and told the man I was not, in fact, "Sandeep".</p>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-27212339591015937652007-10-02T18:42:00.001+05:302008-12-09T04:56:58.259+05:30Indifference to CompassionWell, I'm home sick today and trying to recover from a cold that I have had for two weeks now. It's been one of those colds I thought would just go away by taking some tylenol, but here I sit two weeks later with four medicines from the local "chemist", which include cough syrup, eye drops and a couple of pills for what is some type of conjunctivitis.<br /><br />The following pictures are from my trip to Bangalore and Mysore in August. I never had an opportunity to show them to you, but this post is not really about this trip.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122606101308402002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDdwkexkBwjPZUqlGoE0BN0hEsyuf81Re4TKSThJ_9DJ-Kxioy-NY124oIA8DIof97Rr9dDcKcMlbLj9ZGinAseoyZCvYoOYAVOjSBPNeu0EvfLwKasW1S-laUJQU_SdI-HS0YoctcHAxo/s400/Bang1.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122606251632257378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIkiP184tmcrXQJ6OI5bJV11NJBRtACOCygUPXrheDJwJolDfu_0sXg7PhQUFsAERLhz1DTzRH2v9cexqOM_kpbEPwbv4lVKuh5RDfWrwBJR69IceZMPet-4IRY0_qofv-LFM1W3tAgzjR/s400/Bang2.jpg" border="0" /> <em>(These young boys were nice enough to accompany me up the 1,000 step, 45-minute hike up to the top of Mysore's highest nearby peak, Chamundi Hill. Three of them did it in sandles, the fourth barefoot.)</em><br /><br />Other than that though, it's amazing to believe that it is nearing the end of my first year here in India. I am planning on staying into the coming year. Not sure if I'll be here for the entire year of 2008 or only for part of it, but I just have this feeling inside of me that I'm not done with India yet. I have a ton more to learn from the people and cultures of India and I think I have much more to give to these people. <div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122606397661145458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXrALaR_EXro4PVUStoXZzCdOge6DYNRnYQTiJGzdjHGS7sk2q8RfC0nyx9lRQVrcMjDRmeVn5NV4sRoLokkMv5CJpsIx00dRwMsK9qEhj4U8txekAinJm9FstyVCGT6G-xmUpd28iug-3/s400/Bang3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122606595229641090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXM7So32xNBp-nBzK5vDHY7sHZ7bhmiZrdfnu0c9bypIq1iI7APpVW8OdPnuzFtvHz-GRn8G6ADyl8OuROUgrIqZwxc4v37HzStBD6BrGd8BVeW-buCGUUwYRnOiyRZLDVn9tsfuBd1QhD/s400/Bang4.jpg" border="0" /><em>(At the top, the boys took me to this nearby manmade pool. This man (who you can only see his big toe) was using the latest in fishing technology.)</em><br /><br />Below are a couple of articles I thought you might find interesting. The first one talks about Delhi's "rag pickers" who are basically our garbage collectors. It's sad and disturbing, but it is a reality check. Many Delhites never consider what happens to the garbage once the woman collects it outside their door each morning or after they throw their garbage into the roadside bin each day. The fact is that there are thousands of people who go through the garbage each day who are not paid, but ask for donations from their neighborhoods. This is their manner of survival.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122606900172319122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYZfDuA3Xl6S_xkdvvQIKadlXuEgQoi2a-JikmWz5JSQv3EUCW6aZ8uEqPL330RnGPvgXm0Ygn5sJGj3RB_Fgncr9sBCYixibnGIuRgKQxwAvXAKvHNoWlrGOo9vN1oUy0aFyOP85Od0Qy/s400/Bang5.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em>(Sri Chamundeswari Temple was at the top of Chamundi Hill)</em> </p>Delhi Article: <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/27/world/asia/27ragpickers.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin">http://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/27/world/asia/27ragpickers.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin</a><br /><br /><br />The second article details the madness of Mumbai. I think the most glaring difference between Mumbai and other major cities in developed countries (and mind you, I have yet to visit there) is that the horrible poverty of the city is not hidden, but often times sits adjacent to some of the nicest hotels, resorts, cinemas and restaurants.<br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122607179345193378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-HNH0pYtMbLlUoxKyrLJvLk_sh6FgOXOaii3MHS4_luOHMYvECw2UrmVT5DlRjOT89BdumWT7HI4W3On0Sd04PhJETDWbeybFK1TitjmyCRwZnPsPRS7S2_xqpSO7Ex4lK1HMhPyLpOw-/s400/Bang6.jpg" border="0" /> <em>(I think I caught this cow right as it was being blessed from up above or about to be zapped into space.)</em></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122607359733819826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfITOQlwyzSqDMQ13VCBwQ40lY3jYLx5qBXu14MjUzi9rAM4ml7LtEic0IlqY_gWYaUuGWw0JlKj3KKp5CbklImg7bx2y_i_Kd8sIUClOINYyC4XLnk5uFwjCHrowWnbLjR3LOdurPnCz-/s400/Bang7.jpg" border="0" /><em>(And I did do some work while in Bangalore. I met with many of my colleagues at CII's first Centre of Excellence, the Institute of Quality.)</em></p><strong>Josh's editorial:</strong> This is possible because many Indians still do not see a problem with the poverty of the country. It's a concept that difficult to understand for most Westerners and even more difficult when you are here and see it right in front of you. However, the reality is that this society has not evolved to a point yet where there is great concern for one's community or for others outside your tight, communal circle.<br /><br />I will forever remember what one Indian CEO of a well-respected, international foundation told me early on in my time here. He said approximately, "Josh, the fact is that nothing is going to change in India until your average Indian sees the impoverished family, with malnourished, naked children begging on the sidewalk in the middle of the city, and thinks this is wrong and should not be happening in my country. Instead, most Indians think, 'at least my children are better off than theirs.' "<br /><br />Of course, this is changing - slowly - throughout India. As the country becomes more interconnected with the world, as India compares itself more with other world powers, as pressure from the next generation of Indians demands more from its country, as the hierarchy and entrenched caste system of India lessens, hopefully this indifference to the suffering of their own neighbors will transform to compassion.<br /><br />Mumbai Article: <a href="http://travel.nytimes.com/2007/09/23/travel/tmagazine/10well-mumbai-t.html?hp">http://travel.nytimes.com/2007/09/23/travel/tmagazine/10well-mumbai-t.html?hp</a>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-22548006528769240532007-09-22T15:30:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:01.232+05:302 Visiting Friends & a Hindi Wedding<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJQ2-tIvcV4EqYsVHR4O6SuKgKgZAv0-jarHpwBjQTDPaW77RFKBl5DRb_4PAJt_bRtcESrpOeOdNsNkk-cdodPoZUDe6FtuOaPCYpbl7Lj1-zz3o5jYKVSuWB4ry7l6GOoMKHTINAN42y/s1600-h/Airport.Seb.Court.small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116712920846985522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJQ2-tIvcV4EqYsVHR4O6SuKgKgZAv0-jarHpwBjQTDPaW77RFKBl5DRb_4PAJt_bRtcESrpOeOdNsNkk-cdodPoZUDe6FtuOaPCYpbl7Lj1-zz3o5jYKVSuWB4ry7l6GOoMKHTINAN42y/s400/Airport.Seb.Court.small.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The end of August saw two good friends of mine come and visit from Seattle! The first two! Now I know Courtney from when she used to work at the World Affairs Council and I served on the young professionals board. For the lovely couple, India served as their midway stop on an around the world trip.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIIwuL2KnEIm0-_8IM5EVtfJJ5QhX3l3ML6ws5krKdu6-XRzr0yVkZvNhHmwIOqZM2QTCTfCsG8S0ecqCY453O3pqWt5ujqph2dJLpNHkUinT9JtWVAfoW1bsC5vuYx9_qEC02kDz9tGT/s1600-h/Leaving+Photo.small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116712319551564066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIIwuL2KnEIm0-_8IM5EVtfJJ5QhX3l3ML6ws5krKdu6-XRzr0yVkZvNhHmwIOqZM2QTCTfCsG8S0ecqCY453O3pqWt5ujqph2dJLpNHkUinT9JtWVAfoW1bsC5vuYx9_qEC02kDz9tGT/s400/Leaving+Photo.small.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div>They stopped in South Africa first to see family members of Sebastien's and then went on to Japan after India to see friends of Courtney's from when she lived there a few years ago. I got to see them before and after their one week trip through Rajasthan. Thanks for coming Court and Sebastien!</div><div>_______________________________________________________________</div><br /><div>Then came the Hindi wedding we'd all been waiting for. Back at the beginning of August, my friend Andrea and her boyfriend/fiance, Shivam, had a Christian wedding back in Colorado. Three weeks later, they came out to Jaipur, Rajasthan, India to have a Rajasthani wedding with all of Shiv's family and friends. You may think what does "all of Shiv's family and friends" mean? Well, it meant his family <em>only</em> sent out roughly 1,500 invitations.</div><br /><p align="left"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116711164205361378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhm785EApRtIiaP4Q8wKF9UaiArhxjq5lM6wy8cljDCArfadgqJtVejKzK1phyphenhyphen5SAy6wzeuv4E95rrT0xuyiQKpLuYP0sayX2tHPD8yM2ttnXsqAh2w8NMyieoXJNEz6Dm2odccwvcJf5D/s400/pool.josh.dre.jpg" border="0" /></p><div>The days before the wedding were pretty laid back. Every meal of the day together. Time in between meals were spent at the pool, in our rooms, or doing a little shopping sight seeing around Jaipur.<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZsmfdxTvdEkFo8WkuvxKboGIGdSVd-Hz3IW33QCziuzxO59ZGBHE6qJxFfW9jaCQnhHbDur_nYiD412_3fDRhoZKtnklhmy8b04p5bqiSnAnKBw3OUUAz2ssryWabrN6i5oallhcxqI4r/s1600-h/pool.josh.tesh.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116711323119151346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZsmfdxTvdEkFo8WkuvxKboGIGdSVd-Hz3IW33QCziuzxO59ZGBHE6qJxFfW9jaCQnhHbDur_nYiD412_3fDRhoZKtnklhmy8b04p5bqiSnAnKBw3OUUAz2ssryWabrN6i5oallhcxqI4r/s400/pool.josh.tesh.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Along with Andrea's parents, her grandmother, aunt, friend, Rene, from Capetown, South Africa and Tesia, our friend from PLU, came out to be a part of the Hindi wedding experience. In all, Shiv and Dre had people attend the wedding from the USA, Greece, South Africa and Afghanistan. Below, Tesia got to try her first "lassi", a sweet, creamy milkshake-type drink minus the ice cream.<br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkyTu-90gnEx_QrfVVww0tBgpbrsYg6pxbcdRfdEhHMU0rDoiW_Yy7ddu5LD3hZeJo_sr8b5rqoQ-EvTQ4BarF7zzt5f3naerj4VLP-ZNUSIlYMSPbE64L47Gf_nH0r2dvq9Zyp4uZscyg/s1600-h/Tesh.Josh.Lassies.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116710691758958786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkyTu-90gnEx_QrfVVww0tBgpbrsYg6pxbcdRfdEhHMU0rDoiW_Yy7ddu5LD3hZeJo_sr8b5rqoQ-EvTQ4BarF7zzt5f3naerj4VLP-ZNUSIlYMSPbE64L47Gf_nH0r2dvq9Zyp4uZscyg/s400/Tesh.Josh.Lassies.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="center">Some even got "henna-ed". I even let myself join in the henna party.<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116711572227254546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggM2WF0i7omlgndwvOY7YC6s125Fw5Dp9mqvdG_MgO9uojZeB3xat8OV6qP8gWyihKKOKc_fuuUHYpr4NJQnpcrKNHwW71heWSnMtUW608e3cdbR9dWAiUb-hnNlmVC2IhcJwYuCS0COC/s400/tesh.henna.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116711447673202946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7XcDQGrg6Zrc5CJaua8TxEafHq-u06R64mR5rAXizkN8y81GbOW9Ofkm3fN7vRvOgt1NynmnNLqwpnaASuQ_jpp0iGc3uv_czJj7-exIE_U_w7uYn2UUXqnIhMcMMJZLuWWKIQiVkM_t/s400/henna+madness.jpg" border="0" /><br />One of our free days took us to Amber palace where some elephants were nice enough to carry us up the hill to the palace entrance.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzgoceOLKJ5hUZ9Qe9092UaDzp8DMcq-ZhS8Lnl2826GRw1LuXJxT7ruC9a0mvNomRtK6G5BArtGCL_cF6Vvo_lpsWRNiDpewrX4PzrNr4Oq2FrV7j3MXRXQpz7vX6_Sn1wTbDIAPL-Etu/s1600-h/trunk.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116710485600528562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzgoceOLKJ5hUZ9Qe9092UaDzp8DMcq-ZhS8Lnl2826GRw1LuXJxT7ruC9a0mvNomRtK6G5BArtGCL_cF6Vvo_lpsWRNiDpewrX4PzrNr4Oq2FrV7j3MXRXQpz7vX6_Sn1wTbDIAPL-Etu/s400/trunk.jpg" border="0" /></a> The white cloth wrapped around my leg below is actually not what it looks like, India's latest fashion statement, but instead a bandage that was protecting a pretty bad burn that I incured a week before on the exhaust pipe of Jose's motorcycle. People asked "what happened?" and I would launch into the story and with (seriously) every Indian person I told the story too, they replied by saying, "Oh, yeah, I did that once also." Even the two women in saris who I met the morning of the wedding. </div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4pQo-8aOlrN8w4J5Wl0bMx75600nI2XLmEkD16qdizWwVLYOLy5AZtIVnLIX99lGbEP0Da3skJHKhXtPItSba3OBcptZ5gkdHKQoQkVj0ORtVGXv-MZudN3Qi8dUQNQhwFDcjjTpE4-9G/s1600-h/Amber+Palace.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116710288032032930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4pQo-8aOlrN8w4J5Wl0bMx75600nI2XLmEkD16qdizWwVLYOLy5AZtIVnLIX99lGbEP0Da3skJHKhXtPItSba3OBcptZ5gkdHKQoQkVj0ORtVGXv-MZudN3Qi8dUQNQhwFDcjjTpE4-9G/s400/Amber+Palace.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The day of the wedding had multiple pre-wedding ceremonies, most of which only involved Shiv, because he's Hindi and Andrea is not. If Dre' would have been Hindi also, her family would have done many of the same rituals with her.</div><br /><div>This is Shiv before the wedding: being smeared with talcum all over his body by his aunts.<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8FjRpuxq71h9ugcgjHai6VsDlTLvmOCBgPtMNSpzWJdo4DDsDLLwHmVAmz2e9mMdUCSu7tuCNWchZnGDsL-l4ubsOOn59y14zmT7kVSpvzODv5rE1Zou7vOD2nLOCWVCcIHrcroKyDEVQ/s1600-h/Comp.Shiv.Aunts.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116710068988700818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8FjRpuxq71h9ugcgjHai6VsDlTLvmOCBgPtMNSpzWJdo4DDsDLLwHmVAmz2e9mMdUCSu7tuCNWchZnGDsL-l4ubsOOn59y14zmT7kVSpvzODv5rE1Zou7vOD2nLOCWVCcIHrcroKyDEVQ/s400/Comp.Shiv.Aunts.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwgWBg2jeHmwa-cxkeHmWWRb1oG2RpTNnXlYC56gMpdAvCN1RCafGuwAJopZfcydWYEY5v1J0wo3JA9qO6ngD4SrphnVTapn3UpFGOo52kMhvz7uR512x9ulPAA311jLeu-fVfN13ILbLM/s1600-h/Comp.Shiv.face.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116709922959812738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwgWBg2jeHmwa-cxkeHmWWRb1oG2RpTNnXlYC56gMpdAvCN1RCafGuwAJopZfcydWYEY5v1J0wo3JA9qO6ngD4SrphnVTapn3UpFGOo52kMhvz7uR512x9ulPAA311jLeu-fVfN13ILbLM/s400/Comp.Shiv.face.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">This is Andrea before the wedding. Doesn't she look excited to get married in front of 1,500 people!<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZLJvlUDaYy-V0ARxaQOMzh-4POY_Lo2bHNOyMX9KDLE8vnlHKRZwkt-fdnMP9IN9IzTOYgG5523RekbKN6R2QRm-TaXfYZmSWGOLQ7sWEM0TI5cpq8oreqObtvhaq1AhuBrHOkH9T_wis/s1600-h/dre.wedding+day.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116709618017134690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZLJvlUDaYy-V0ARxaQOMzh-4POY_Lo2bHNOyMX9KDLE8vnlHKRZwkt-fdnMP9IN9IzTOYgG5523RekbKN6R2QRm-TaXfYZmSWGOLQ7sWEM0TI5cpq8oreqObtvhaq1AhuBrHOkH9T_wis/s400/dre.wedding+day.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div>As Andrea got whisked away to get ready for the ceremony, since she enters separately from Shivam, I got to hang out with Shiv's huge family as the procession to the wedding venue began. He started by taking this horse to the local temple. </div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0clKpB-YBGF2frHUQrYdsSRL3_ewgshX-c6CaMPdU8jUDBCNecU51To0Fqp6NqHGS0pY6Emk6bZB7R4JOyw0lsE6x1_M0UCU1B6Hl4fwKi5hTir7h7Qqzmh-5imOuSEzWBge6DjLZ8PVA/s1600-h/Comp.Shiv.horse.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116709506347984978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0clKpB-YBGF2frHUQrYdsSRL3_ewgshX-c6CaMPdU8jUDBCNecU51To0Fqp6NqHGS0pY6Emk6bZB7R4JOyw0lsE6x1_M0UCU1B6Hl4fwKi5hTir7h7Qqzmh-5imOuSEzWBge6DjLZ8PVA/s400/Comp.Shiv.horse.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Then we all took a chartered bus to a huge traffic circle that is in downtown Jaipur and right outside the wedding venue. We spent the next hour in a procession around this traffic circle - Shiv in the back on his horse, while a band plays, many men hold these big lights on their shoulders forming two columns and in between these two columns of men are all of Shiv's friends and family. That is where all the dancing happened. And not dancing that you or I would probably know back in the USA. This was true Hindi dancing. So fun and unique to other types of dancing.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyrBAPYapK0KJxcChVE2kJVADQMkau9zg2TYh_WK0CRaCXQYfZI6kfRD0uzhTzuk2J7_2nwYU9RHQ5rZXhgEswjPNYMUtQ7oTT3zkU7gOiS8sluWBNTeh9XHZ-rCxbTvO_oBeFMj1htF6E/s1600-h/Comp.Josh.Shiv.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116709343139227714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyrBAPYapK0KJxcChVE2kJVADQMkau9zg2TYh_WK0CRaCXQYfZI6kfRD0uzhTzuk2J7_2nwYU9RHQ5rZXhgEswjPNYMUtQ7oTT3zkU7gOiS8sluWBNTeh9XHZ-rCxbTvO_oBeFMj1htF6E/s400/Comp.Josh.Shiv.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The dancing procession around the traffic circle will be one of my lasting memories of the wedding.<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0K67qzNTwTACuvUj8fozVPEEGYa0aJOt_-I7q_ZsDGn_5QG-_oao1JLa020crYLhlzc1lyLGLxUStVMIv2HeWJhwNT7gI1euAyrifluCMKub9l3t_kASw2mKM3DtWtEgioMoWIhyphenhyphenaq3nf/s1600-h/procession.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116709231470078002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0K67qzNTwTACuvUj8fozVPEEGYa0aJOt_-I7q_ZsDGn_5QG-_oao1JLa020crYLhlzc1lyLGLxUStVMIv2HeWJhwNT7gI1euAyrifluCMKub9l3t_kASw2mKM3DtWtEgioMoWIhyphenhyphenaq3nf/s400/procession.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116723585250781506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLPdKJwaRUZMdrcGcy_R7Aq4MITt21TQPTEYtmaNTRoO4tsLbAwrU31dbdvn_xtiSAc9ooLDlVyZu9Vl4mxxW8jw8w7BPWrbW3LstwQjEf0OkV9C8tjJSKX3w5WOWVXSd6SLUHryzLiWYr/s400/Procession.John.jpg" border="0" /><br />After Shiv arrived, about 10 minutes later, the bride arrived, accompanied by her mother and one of Shiv's family members.<br /><br /><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieUUykut-oFDKl5mstKmSmVltnLAJN8AuRokGOzRVuglFjVOK0hxT81YtCHrgeticKWnqyF7CnA_Aklo6ekfPNVtmH46G18HMRvChw822cJ2lhP9XJ2W2FY3PpDawuDDzPqUXmia5EiFRK/s1600-h/Comp.Dre.arrival.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116708960887138338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieUUykut-oFDKl5mstKmSmVltnLAJN8AuRokGOzRVuglFjVOK0hxT81YtCHrgeticKWnqyF7CnA_Aklo6ekfPNVtmH46G18HMRvChw822cJ2lhP9XJ2W2FY3PpDawuDDzPqUXmia5EiFRK/s400/Comp.Dre.arrival.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The wedding itself consisted of Shiv and Dre sitting under a canopy performing a number of rituals, many of which Shiv doesn't even understand their exact meaning, however, they are tradition. They are officially considered "married" when they walk together around a small fire, which consists of cow dung being burnt, four times. Below, I actually got to step in and take the place of Andrea's brother, who couldn't attend. Very cool.</div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116709828470532210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnQElAfo_b3_dF44WL0sBHY3A_T4IbiBGm_rIpG5V14qD04yZnhxfe6-KQNK0hWbKzdvguUEslo9XfYckt8UqIfR32YtdeCDc0PAM5fYE-MxGoA64K-VZGPpbII0DnY4hgUc46Df5KZuF/s400/prayer.joshrole.1.jpg" border="0" /><br />The happy couple with both sets of parents.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha4-drAAIWrsBonHGrHId7GyqO_AZjRwvjG6FSFtDVuikQZbsw9Io5FWBGGj_mYhwNEPBPYkuMTExXfpo24rQrAWUPLvzsHqztXaz70jV8HlndLnFjiuSd0FQPsk5W5xMLyBwj4ytTj8fO/s1600-h/Comp.Couples.Fams.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116708840628054034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha4-drAAIWrsBonHGrHId7GyqO_AZjRwvjG6FSFtDVuikQZbsw9Io5FWBGGj_mYhwNEPBPYkuMTExXfpo24rQrAWUPLvzsHqztXaz70jV8HlndLnFjiuSd0FQPsk5W5xMLyBwj4ytTj8fO/s400/Comp.Couples.Fams.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The happy couple before during the wedding.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq5AUcsPOCqGntH_vuAvW5WtYV9kxJQ-KaMnuVoggl4xdf49QB_Eivrzj23w11dXFl_lLPWNohkAPwyS6SJWVbwMJE7_aHQcYWDSw25XrQDUK422-huVoYBZWdUC-TOGwbJGmuWFwN7tyr/s1600-h/Close+up+Couple.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116708724663937026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq5AUcsPOCqGntH_vuAvW5WtYV9kxJQ-KaMnuVoggl4xdf49QB_Eivrzj23w11dXFl_lLPWNohkAPwyS6SJWVbwMJE7_aHQcYWDSw25XrQDUK422-huVoYBZWdUC-TOGwbJGmuWFwN7tyr/s400/Close+up+Couple.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The happy(ier) couple after the wedding.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQU6HWcPzLGoG-jlOQYtL1QUHyYNxxveuiW8Xthdl0w5EVQhCAJlq1RUGmMhzCcgKSlLWtEG_G9M1Xtwl1bmtOwXq6RT3NJ3ZO0LFBXL8bcyD8w-p6shOyy2Zra_Gd_7wFUTgW1DvhLg4G/s1600-h/Comp.Couple.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116708578635048946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQU6HWcPzLGoG-jlOQYtL1QUHyYNxxveuiW8Xthdl0w5EVQhCAJlq1RUGmMhzCcgKSlLWtEG_G9M1Xtwl1bmtOwXq6RT3NJ3ZO0LFBXL8bcyD8w-p6shOyy2Zra_Gd_7wFUTgW1DvhLg4G/s400/Comp.Couple.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />And what would a true Rajasthani wedding be without Greek wedding dancing in our rooms later in the night?<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116710859262683346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTV0G4z0-jnD3Nxldxx3L-2g2lAqk6LKZfjGbsx3A2i8dEVQG2csIl0xMq1GW__Q_L5KnLlfQBbOvWyeeutFpBoPm34g-0Y3Mb7O7TiO5PpAYTB7pn7U2JnkcAVVaNoAh5l-xB2-SNd-4Q/s400/Greek+Dancing.jpg" border="0" /> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-41889078605389205932007-09-01T22:02:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:01.533+05:30India-USA Nuclear DealOver here in India for the past nine months, one of the major stories continually in the news has been the nuclear agreement between India and the USA, which was first put to the table two years ago. Since then, both countries have been negotiating the agreement, which still has to be approved by both the US Congress and Indian parliament.<br /><br />From my reading of both the NY Times and Seattle Times online, I feel like this hasn't had a lot of air time back home. It's on the front page of the newspapers here at least a couple days a week.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105280732376282610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU6E8OWdrxwQtxUJIe8OE_dwNBUTZRkfcZBffcXg2n_rnB5ZVe8qxKumdeFYHD-XRxCiqZAWeKAIEJTd1gth2Tpg_5PJgQiVsWYtoxb8nmifkaDdaUun5jnK4KHWbYC_vh-2KZsFLV5odX/s400/Josh.birdl.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p>(I had to catch a pigeon with a pot in the kitchen the other day after work. No pigeons were hurt before or after this photo was taken, but if you look close you can see the end bits of my pigeon friend's tail by the pot handle.)</p><p>The basis for this agreement is that the USA will supply India with nuclear material to increase their civilian energy supply. One of the many "catches" is that India has not signed the international nuclear non-proliferation treaty, not to mention it is currently against US law for the US to provide nuclear material to a country that hasn't signed the treaty. Further, it is a nuclear country, having tested a nuclear bomb in 1974. </p><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105279873382823394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJDb7OpbTmAg7edHVeQqyUxebv2rj-ludZojYwCCGQaxnnrOKyD4_eomxablWuM7Y4XHSn_R84NYBiOTtS-TWXp0hq84QlVUgk1xaG4R3so7bjXCH1avjp25uSKVSFel6G-yqIiJeXM3lB/s400/UltimateFrisbee+Group.2.jpg" border="0" />(The group of friends that I play ultimate frisbee with on Saturdays)<br /><br /><br />There are all kinds of potential repercussions to this deal going through. A couple are that India will have access to a much larger (and consistent) energy supply for its growing (and gas guzzling) population. A second is that this deal requires the International Atomic Energy Association (IAEA) and the Nuclear Suppliers Group (NSG) to make a number of exceptions for India, which would set a major presedent. Evidence of this is that Pakistan (India's neighbor and also a nuclear state) has already stated that if the agreement is approved, they will ask for the exact same exceptions.<br /><br />To better understand this very complex, yet extremely important international agreement I have provided links to a couple of good articles that see the agreement from different angles.<br /><br />The Economist: <a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.economist.com/opinion/displaystory.cfm?story_id=9687395" target="_blank">http://www.economist.com/opinion/displaystory.cfm?story_id=9687395</a><br /><br />Newsweek: <a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20438305/site/newsweek/page/0/" target="_blank">http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20438305/site/newsweek/page/0/</a><br /><br />Happy reading :)Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-46077673972066207012007-08-25T20:23:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:04.242+05:30Change is Happening Fast for Some<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7d_8FWAgump7ZFfc0YeWoAdZQ5kHQ-V24V5qLC_kNV0hWij7v0iBJ9FEm4ltk1DZtuc-0wjX7y70Is5g-EANSVNAeiZ84BcYQ3GBTQkcszQBktfgHYd-bY0Rptw692aPDL15qbcB2WkMo/s1600-h/Lotus+Garden_Casa.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102656000552285586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7d_8FWAgump7ZFfc0YeWoAdZQ5kHQ-V24V5qLC_kNV0hWij7v0iBJ9FEm4ltk1DZtuc-0wjX7y70Is5g-EANSVNAeiZ84BcYQ3GBTQkcszQBktfgHYd-bY0Rptw692aPDL15qbcB2WkMo/s400/Lotus+Garden_Casa.jpg" border="0" /></a>( Lotus Temple in New Delhi. Family excursion.) </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left">So I took off to Bangalore today for a four-day stay, which is technically a work trip, but they let me come for the weekend before so I could be a proper tourist and see the city and the surrounding area.<br /><br />However, when I was at the New Delhi airport early this morning, I realized there was a story to share. As we all know, India’s economy continues to grow and with it India’s middle class. Now a large portion of this middle class are young recent college graduates who now have many job opportunities available to them that their parents didn’t have. The boom of the IT sector has been well documented. Well, one of the other emerging sectors is the airline industry. Over the last few years, the number of domestic airlines has doubled and with this increase in competition, airplane tickets have become affordable for many. Combine that with millions of more people with rupees to spend and you have the current airline boom. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102656180940912034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqCU6cL1YBH5wSARs3V4TQ_RBTuiYNFEjHj0_q2hNMbFZUpbIz4EAIz64bhtlErJULlejLGIRZCqOD9ip5OWeUQQjHxU0-Pu_IMbIqt-ME3bksKmGrIukbRL99MEslXD1tLzFO9WGyVDp/s400/Indep+Day.JPG" border="0" />(August 15, 2007 was India's 60th Independence Anniversary. We celebrated along with throngs of people at India Gate.)<br /><br />New Delhi’s airport is being expanded rapidly and flights are often delayed because there are simply so many flights arriving and departing. This morning, as our plane rolled out on the tarmac, our pilot, Captain Billy Russell (that seriously was his name – it’s worth noting that our <em>American</em> pilot was flying an <em>Indian</em> low-cost domestic airline) informed the cabin that our take-off would be slightly delayed because we had 5-6 planes ahead of us to take off and 5-6 to land before it was our turn!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQcoHBDOE9Jfk5xVtLvo9hqc3RFzCiU7-EMuwdAVA1zsPCfTEZ8kLVubj4W0ssqx33d_sF6Hwj-FgVFCkxcDAubO-QsUYsULf2XGZk1UUYp7ZvZrDlR3kxEw5v5xjySHBq49s-JL9Aoim/s1600-h/Sukla.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102653724219618674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQcoHBDOE9Jfk5xVtLvo9hqc3RFzCiU7-EMuwdAVA1zsPCfTEZ8kLVubj4W0ssqx33d_sF6Hwj-FgVFCkxcDAubO-QsUYsULf2XGZk1UUYp7ZvZrDlR3kxEw5v5xjySHBq49s-JL9Aoim/s400/Sukla.JPG" border="0" /></a> (This is Sukla, our housekeeper. She is one of those people who has a smile that truly "lights up a room." She's wonderful and even likes to give Jose and I some crap. She comes to our apartment four days a week and does an amazing job cooking, cleaning and ironing. (She also likes to rearrange our bedrooms when she doesn't like the current set-up :) We're spoiled and incredibly fortunate that we were able to hire Sukla. Great housekeepers are not easy to find in Delhi.)<br /><br />So to tell you of some of the characteristics of this boom:<br /><br />*Post graduate flight attendant schools are seen in Delhi and Gurgaon, lead most notably by none other than the Frank Finn Institute for Air Hostessing. I always think that's such a funny name.</div><div><br />*Most of the flight attendants, or “air hostesses”, and the people who check you in for your flight are young 25-30 year old women, who wear bright lipstick, speak perfect British English, and wear skirts that fall above their knees. Remember that this is still socially conservative India we are talking about, especially when it comes to how women are seen in public. So women are getting better job opportunities, being given more responsibility, plus the influence of western culture is loud and clear in their dress and customer service. No sarees here.<br /><br />*Many of the passengers are first time flyers. Thus, you have the air hostesses pointing out such things as where to find your seat number. You also have people at the airport who have never been on an escalator before and can be quite apprehensive before their first "ride". Further, people seem to be equally fascinated simply with airplanes themselves. Going home from Gurgaon each day in our carpool, cars and motorcycles park themselves on the side of the freeway near the airport to watch the planes take off and land. One would imagine that if you have recently moved to the city from a village (I was told in a meeting last week that 700,000 people are moving to Delhi every year right now – that’s roughly 2,000 per day) that seeing an airplane is pretty cool.<br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgePKUL5jn3O1Ya0uptdLweABc-mR-jcurpDttL-zWGrjjswM_betfCDbsbtSMXPQ4hk9w-qPgGOe4b_FblI-hzmVGAIKTmKoaX-7oeNeweY5QXadYcCuZktXAgbf4bL0-P1BQ8L1FACfOZ/s1600-h/Laughing+Club.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102653526651123042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgePKUL5jn3O1Ya0uptdLweABc-mR-jcurpDttL-zWGrjjswM_betfCDbsbtSMXPQ4hk9w-qPgGOe4b_FblI-hzmVGAIKTmKoaX-7oeNeweY5QXadYcCuZktXAgbf4bL0-P1BQ8L1FACfOZ/s400/Laughing+Club.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhGS0rpB4iW9ubX78BXAYD2zBrM9kr7BxkLI7uERLlRTo3e9x8g0B2JtTvnBR62klrupxhfvQIDLHPaZJL-z6LRM08gPsByDsZBkgxgDgWh6_hFu3jt8rUvUkRy9Ounlrgx_HyJPDZF-3/s1600-h/Laughing+Club2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102653389212169554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhGS0rpB4iW9ubX78BXAYD2zBrM9kr7BxkLI7uERLlRTo3e9x8g0B2JtTvnBR62klrupxhfvQIDLHPaZJL-z6LRM08gPsByDsZBkgxgDgWh6_hFu3jt8rUvUkRy9Ounlrgx_HyJPDZF-3/s400/Laughing+Club2.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div>This is one of Delhi's many yoga - laughing clubs. They meet at 6 a.m. every morning in a park, do about 45 min of yoga and then 30 min of laughing exercies.</div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102654351284843906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8-Sm3WbHHSIaFjD8Sj1nKyDBm-6ATqKqZbgcXKt1LxydKo6rky1rDX8-a5ZtuofkaL2P7H-rteycMjGVuRCTQuyZessYJ_RNIEP1eAkrYiLGzl3yg2DB4zVSHd0ObjdkFWBf2SWR6ry5/s400/Laughing+Club.jpg" border="0" />They even invited us to their 10th anniversary celebration! All the women seriously wore their laughing club hats sideways. I would hate to not fit in :)</div><br /><div align="center">THE MANY BEAUTIFUL FACES OF INDIA </div><div align="center">(photos taken by moi and friends around India)<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102658714971616706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGP5ZGIBi8NVxx4NeHed-hf0msb0-Ke5rxXR-e0OXt4Lqsp7buPOGcgz4anu6tpjcwkZUN_6wEwAho_blvNhgsUbKsUoLRoGP_P0gNLkmpusppaaCoO264z-GVjEhG6BQmFWvYNJ4SlOIa/s400/Ashu+and+friends.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilynbGM0MEhq5pk6C-mElQ-6xY7GK7iwuTrh64sLhW_FIHSUvHeSA_ZLxiu-DEHFY4WxnEUzgGiYygIkiZSfGKZNbXW-2UliOaE91901ulIoYl7vREsy8TzHqhWG8O4DwSemue1K_AGw5v/s1600-h/Indian+Girls.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102653247478248770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilynbGM0MEhq5pk6C-mElQ-6xY7GK7iwuTrh64sLhW_FIHSUvHeSA_ZLxiu-DEHFY4WxnEUzgGiYygIkiZSfGKZNbXW-2UliOaE91901ulIoYl7vREsy8TzHqhWG8O4DwSemue1K_AGw5v/s400/Indian+Girls.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwUobyG6U2Tn7WW2mIg9yUCOYqYKizQNOZThVBiRZi2jZ6bMkh1kpam-B0MoidRe1c1qJZH0lG2HMKlqG6eyhw2zmODIc_A81G4mGM7QQo3sLAcYK3eFi6oeK64KvH7GXcaXuqZgHF_EIr/s1600-h/Indian+MomSon.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102653006960080178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwUobyG6U2Tn7WW2mIg9yUCOYqYKizQNOZThVBiRZi2jZ6bMkh1kpam-B0MoidRe1c1qJZH0lG2HMKlqG6eyhw2zmODIc_A81G4mGM7QQo3sLAcYK3eFi6oeK64KvH7GXcaXuqZgHF_EIr/s400/Indian+MomSon.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102658534582990258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPXEn7AqMWP1TPx0X-fPWA_DKHbTaPeOmPDctrwkAVaVQt_vw5-llSn-62eBNKp_FjXLYFyGqSm5L7YPr2k-rT-4yp858NefLImiI8OzpqcdU_-7sqW6TM6S9tR43W5H-GEguiWYPm7a1j/s400/Arjun+Nagar+guys.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102658981259589074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW8tr3s4hGtgQciBMol-RozCuTXw9vPt-mqGLUMSlKkk2B0kf0QpW3LDIgao29SjdoIpg5GmNHUZ-A7WTwcj349WZzivfHKk2pzigkohGAE3MJztGIcT_0p5nPdXiP0SwjadT9cdShRPLb/s400/Uttarakhand+kids.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOEPgCNRDrcl5YkCScME9wdV7NGnatmH5gg4E3ih719aYsnoCU3djNGCPNRdGlG7UICJPZZemvh3W-sEUw_gcnBGIdj-SLNCYBFheX92vnjNU0mjufPI4Ma_j_b8cliQrr3THGl_CUwj1h/s1600-h/Indian+Class+Adriana.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102652873816093986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOEPgCNRDrcl5YkCScME9wdV7NGnatmH5gg4E3ih719aYsnoCU3djNGCPNRdGlG7UICJPZZemvh3W-sEUw_gcnBGIdj-SLNCYBFheX92vnjNU0mjufPI4Ma_j_b8cliQrr3THGl_CUwj1h/s400/Indian+Class+Adriana.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvO2uMtCv7Ear26FkuLgHfTOcjUw_AV3bZ6t-mDTNs1SvL_DYn2kqlIWFxJc8wHbxud4t9jKt1SSXrqHfKqPKG1Rjbo9Ji6KzYsP3-22MnXFgPqM6RPKq_Th5A2pcSSYo-PS-t__o4o7R/s1600-h/Indian+Boy.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102652732082173202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvO2uMtCv7Ear26FkuLgHfTOcjUw_AV3bZ6t-mDTNs1SvL_DYn2kqlIWFxJc8wHbxud4t9jKt1SSXrqHfKqPKG1Rjbo9Ji6KzYsP3-22MnXFgPqM6RPKq_Th5A2pcSSYo-PS-t__o4o7R/s400/Indian+Boy.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div></div></div></div></div>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-24381641196210605262007-07-13T20:26:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:04.577+05:30What is Delhi really like?Delhi has many faces; my evening today probably would give you a fairly good understanding of what it feels like to be here. Vivek, a colleague of mine from work who rides in my carpool, and I decided to go after work for a beer and “galgappes”. We got out of the rickshaw in front of Kamaal Cinema market, which is quite close to both of our places, while a larger than average water buffalo, which means about the size of a small car, stood on the median separating the road’s lanes, starring straight ahead into space.<br /><br />This small market isn’t too big by anyone’s standards. A few coffee shops, small restaurants, a couple stores selling different computer products or services, a furnature store, a beer and wine shop. We walk through the parking lot that is filled about 2/3 with small cars and 1/3 with motorcycles. Vivek walks up the two steps of the beer and wine shop to by our two cans of Kingfisher beer. Next, we order four small potato patties from the vender down the steps, which we will eat drenched in sweet chutney and raw onions. We then take our food and beers back behind the first line of shops to a park that sits between that first line and the second line of stops. To get there, we walk through a small, unlit walkway, where puddles from last night’s monsoon and flies from its aftermath buzz around, making designs in the thick smell of garbage that fills the air.<br /><br />With our bags from work piled on top of each other on the dirty stone wall and bags of food and chutney lying next to them. I realize that a whole army of ants is hard at work, about three feet away from our food, scurrying up and down the wall and the tree that has grown adjacent to it. A small gecko quickly races up the tree trunk. The small fenced-in park is full of garbage though. Vivek realizes that they only gave us one bag of chutney, not two, so he walks back to retrieve the second bag. Meanwhile, I call my Italian friend Marta to figure out plans for the night. Once Vivek comes back, we talk about our frustrations with work and his ambitions to start his own tourism company, while he tosses his chutney bag onto what is left of grass in the park. I realize the sweet chutney is also a little spicy and the cold beer is not as cold as it was ten minutes ago when we bought it. The tasty, tasty food and warm beer fills me right up though. Behind us three dirty dogs lay on the top step next to one man also laying on his back and a second sitting in raggedy clothes on the steps of a business that has already closed for the day. As we finish two young boys come over to ask for our empty beer cans, as they will turn them in, along with other glass bottles they have collected, later on to collect a small sum of rupees. As we begin to leave, Vivek starts to also throw our paper plates over the wall into the park, but I stop him before he does and tell him, “Let’s throw them in the garbage can out front.”<br /><br />We walk back to the front through the same alleyway to eat our “galgappes”, a very unique Indian food that consists of small balls made of a thin, fried flour exterior (about the size of a golf ball) with a little hole where sweet water with a few cut vegetables are poured inside the ball. As we wait to order, Vivek and I stand facing each other, talking about where our careers might be taking us, while beads of sweat from the intense humidity multiply on his forehead and mine slide down my back. I can feel all of my clothes sticking to me and I realize once again that there is no point in complaining about something like the humidity here. You just have to let it be and find a way to be at peace with this reality. I look around and tell Vivek to try and count how many women he sees in this market right now. We only can see two amongst 40-60 men working, eating, walking, talking to each other. These golgappes are messy and eaten in one swift toss into the mouth – you don’t exactly gulp them, but there is little chewing involved. I’m stuffed after three. Vivek has at least five. We pay about fifty cents for our post potato and beer treat as an unusually small man with crooked legs (possibly a little person) walks by us. As we get ready to walk home, Vivek tells me to wait while he indulges himself and buys a cigarette. In India, you can buy cigarettes one at a time. He lights it with an electric lighter hanging from the roof by a cord (kind of like a small electric stove on a rope), of which I tell him I’ve never seen before. Walking towards home now, a man tosses a small plastic box out of his car window, probably from food, out onto the parking lot near us and Vivek and I joke about the “incredible” technology that I’m learning about in India that I couldn’t find in the US.<br /><br />Below are pictures from last weekend's Festival of San Fermin. This is the famous festival celebrated in Pamplona every year, which also includes many days of "the running of the bulls". We decided to be crazy and celebrated San Fermin and our friend Carla's birthday all in one :)<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086696829615368018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4fL6BVtd0eZupO1GSyHUKzytSe40g9UjK-NdPpFF-vr3kzwZNoC8FQq1WjuiTYYfReU75Bkkc5K7jp6d-aGFIEZ0PflQRKn-yC41roVGanxwpuj2BbO4g0r21VOb47TEaUPo0fsxJ_Sea/s400/josh.girls.jpg" border="0" /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGcDxc_Cy-NO9G-KBdxV4_HMpEC7ylulBBKSLfMsxMbvodbojMLmjdkUCu3DpUxZsUy0YG7rgEv5x5cbaG59Zx7T_RznrL1wmA_wkMukbu4OMvqs4ZFK_p5ttAJGQ0yJl2TeOnhiD8z6Xp/s1600-h/sparklers.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086696932694583138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGcDxc_Cy-NO9G-KBdxV4_HMpEC7ylulBBKSLfMsxMbvodbojMLmjdkUCu3DpUxZsUy0YG7rgEv5x5cbaG59Zx7T_RznrL1wmA_wkMukbu4OMvqs4ZFK_p5ttAJGQ0yJl2TeOnhiD8z6Xp/s400/sparklers.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086697031478830962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_zW0JI6pR-QMd55JR5Ux_ldppfxbM18poj4kDYnm5uiVCkibhzplyVLNngT36onR7SIobqS18jfOFLnsq-9x60NCYFJ_wCEmMmiHy3bDaEitt32gUczuXjGnrEQ8dhFL1VCuQejI-AP1/s400/Boys.jpg" border="0" />Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-70879958651175727672007-07-04T19:17:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:05.957+05:30The (at least) Half Way Point<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-aAN9yaaaieqIzulEUaICLTtWnhtagOc52R3EyuR-85HcAGbzO3JUpbOdLS4ohUrO-X80w17kLN1cyHZD2KV5mv1xEdodKu9f2qybDBMDX1frrd35-pOzCocHP1p_uCjKLQKBQKPVyakF/s1600-h/Josh.boat.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083349273559791634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-aAN9yaaaieqIzulEUaICLTtWnhtagOc52R3EyuR-85HcAGbzO3JUpbOdLS4ohUrO-X80w17kLN1cyHZD2KV5mv1xEdodKu9f2qybDBMDX1frrd35-pOzCocHP1p_uCjKLQKBQKPVyakF/s400/Josh.boat.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><em>(On the Bay of Bengal in Mamallapuram, south India)</em></strong></div><br />I am now starting month number seven over here in India. I’m half way done with my original commitment of one year to the Confederation of Indian Industry (CII – <a href="http://www.cii.in/">http://www.cii.in/</a> – check out the new website (Let me know if you think it’s a little less like a busy Indian street now, Tina)). I know that to this point I have not really talked about my job on the blog at all. That is largely because, honestly, after working I don’t ever think I want to spend an evening writing about it. I think that could probably sound fairly like a negative sign of how my job is going, but that’s not it all. My job is going well. Originally, I was working on creating a sustainable development plan for CII’s own Social Development Initiatives. Currently, CII has about 10 very different social development programs in place and they each receive fairly limited resources from CII (remember, CII is still a non-profit and doesn’t have excess funds either). So these programs have not grown much over the past years and my first 2-3 months were spent developing a plan to make these more sustainable and scalable.<br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083348281422346242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9K9xkRLm9WbjUDsKOuffluzOiOqkjQbYrdF96tsP6IxXkfQJftd6mRVJfwL8aFxdCI1yc1j9AdXTLNleuGIsT9L6tFjYqY6yk0AzdN0CAYZNJptDsihA55zbx2bNh_GYxjZe1NAKsZY3B/s400/Josh.Jose.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><strong><em>(Jose and I at CII's National Summit on CSR in Chennai)</em></strong><br /></p><br /><p>Over the past three or so months I have been focusing much more on CII’s proposed Centre of Excellence for Responsive Corporate Citizenship. Now you might ask, “What the heck is a Centre of Excellence (COE)?” or maybe instead you’re asking “What is Responsive Corporate Citizenship?” Well, to answer your first question, CII has 5-6 Centres of Excellence which specialize in providing certain consultancy services and resources in specific areas such as logistics, quality management, sustainable development, competitiveness and “green business solutions”. Our COE is the most recently proposed center. This part of my job has been challenging as up until now I haven’t had a lot of experience looking at corporate social responsibility (CSR) or social development from a business standpoint. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083347967889733618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-uojyaRXiD_WeLeCyCqWt5CMraiqFoQrfTBb1rQ_6ssJffXB8d7QLzzQxiekjgS8I5QkJJStGLKCMLb9t7iT9qUrIMvmvh4HFM_S97FqZZQw3X3ulA_dpDJZL7Q6pjlCA-9BgpWl9NFoX/s400/the+city+from+below.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><strong><em>(This is Shimla, a mountain town that was home and office to the Viceroy (the head of the British government when they ruled India) during the six or seven months of summer)</em></strong></p><strong><em></em></strong><p align="left">My work at the American Red Cross provided me with great experience at looking at the relationship between civil society organizations (CSO) (a preferred term to NGO or non-profit) and businesses, but from the CSO perspective. So to say the least, I’ve been learning quickly, reading a lot on the subject from the McKinsey Quarterly, Harvard Business Review and other similar publications. We are now, hopefully, at the doorstep of beginning to take tangible steps towards making this thing a reality.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083347744551434210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7JCn60dGd9fSgYE61wpSVeitLdNeiU2XZclEDBAqEwACb3rp5x98bnwzHUn8Jy_9zo9rcdU0EryyOakyPEb1vXrL6Com0bMDSLXicSevzzI26EfSXBtZq5Lg9d86tZi9wkuDb2bBbRUVT/s400/concert+group+boyz.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="left"><strong><em>(During the concert of Shimla's International Summer Festival - we were definitely the most international part of the festival)</em></strong><br /><br />Two weeks ago, I traveled down to Chennai with some work colleagues to help run our National Summit on CSR. Jose Luis talked the Basque government and his boss at the commercial office of the Spanish Embassy to approve his attending the conference, which was cool. To top it off, CII didn’t charge him the registration fee (I think because my boss thought of him as a diplomat of some kind – which he is - kind of). Starbucks made an appearance as one of the event’s main sponsors. If you didn’t already know, Starbucks is trying valiantly to get into India’s growing coffee-drinking market but continues to face new hurdles with their application. One of their marketing strategies was to sponsor this event and talk about their social responsibility initiatives through their C.A.F.E. program. Instead of sending Sandra Taylor, Senior VP of CSR, next time, I want them to send out Josh Terlouw.<br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083347486853396434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwxC9hicYPxktYS1U6BP1HAJVSovbtakJ1fcCr6DG4IwqDTyuj9SgCUBf_VmDGbvBpbAjobnlOcuRMBJ7mac7mvmhmDwzrSIyT6dDrkEFihP3On1_GOAehvI-BCGv1GGbJtuK3sDqTBvyL/s400/group.metro.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><strong><em>(Last Sunday, a bunch of work friends and I rode Delhi's new metro (commuter train) to a theme park on the outskirts of Delhi. Left to right: Michael, Ankit, Shipra, Richa and Amit)</em></strong></p><p align="left">India continues to be such an incredible learning lab. And I could go on and on about each thing, but just to give you a little bit of an idea. The caste system continues to be a fully integrated part of society from a macro level and interpersonal human interaction. The government has categories of “scheduled castes”, “scheduled tribes” and “other backward castes” that determine levels of government assistance and new affirmative action policies. It’s not just a rural reality either. It’s everywhere in the city also. Nearly all Indians I know can tell you what caste a person is after only a couple of minutes. They can tell from a number of indicators such as their last name, mannerisms and language use.<br /><br />Next, there is such a huge canyon between law and enforcement. It’s illegal to make kids beg, let cows roam the roads, ask for bribes, ask for a dowry in a marriage, run a red light, and on and on. However, there is little, if any, enforcement of any of these things. </p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083346503305885634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5fFU2tLNJy54_lIXs3vN5rho9uvYFny6Cf5vOlrHDtX0JXFBxs6gIb8BBNZdGd56Gwd8dxhYMf5juWO9xOP5RqhzijGETxUIb40UsVhc-Z7JU_L9U8r_jnFGTwAQcl1ZnVWXntqtJzG5/s400/Lightning.jpg" border="0" /><br /><strong><em>(One thing about India is when it rains, IT RAINS. Rain is almost always accompanied by a storm that includes thunder and lightning.)</em></strong></p><p>There are also so many things that just don’t have any kind of logical answer and if you are trying to find one, you are going to waste your time (I know). For example, no one has “change” in Delhi. You go to stores, use rickshaws, go to the modern cinemas. No one has change for your rupees! Sometimes it’s understandable. Often times the rickshaw drivers have it though but don’t want to give it to you. Heck, Lauren went to the bank the other day and they didn’t have change! Next, in six months, I have yet to see one turn lane in all of India. Thus, you have roads with a big medium in the middle with places to take a u-turn every so often. The lines to make these u-turns can back up as you might imagine, to say nothing of that fact that you often have to drive quite out of the way to just go to the other side of the street. Every Indian city I have seen is like this. My last example is highways with no shoulders on them. The problem is that when a car breaks down, it just stops in the middle of the lane and has no where to go until someone comes to tow it away. You can imagine how unsafe this is and how fast traffic backs up trying to merge around it. The funniest part of all this is that if you ask any Indian, even incredibly bright, traveled, "logically thinking" Indians why any of these things are the way they are, I swear, you cannot get any kind of coherent answer. They just are and it’s really no use in trying to advocate for a change in the present reality because there’s not really a problem in their view. </p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083342951367931826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqyxZMGfulC6-4FeUiLmzUkpNowK2vBKulOl9b7w9OxvCVAHwqbEGrynRCgHDBulyteBgdykz05b2vVKfzzit6VIoMxPD4c7KGbKRXRVHLxSm_dzNROlPTwQPYEd1tSpNckB3fYJGYDvD-/s400/House.Sweaty.jpg" border="0" /><br /><strong><em>(When the power goes out, we often have no other option but to sit in the living room, sweat...and take photos and make faces. However, I've found that if I can get past how sweaty I am, the darkness and humidity can actually be quite peaceful and meditative.)</em></strong></p><p>Six months in the book. At least six more to go. It’s great to hear from all of you and even though India is on the other side of the world for most of you, I would love for you to come visit!<br /></p>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-65842206421597140302007-05-30T23:15:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:06.845+05:30A Holiday in Paradise<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070772339047355810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRk9SBiZel9pqQAfO1K3sKQMubx3PHdYcpsK6LxYnfBpKE4n2PtOWIxgIVaNF0uAJwJSM3REQO0Vcx8y38ivkzsi3bJhU_9-IX_GcsOLpygK5vBNgFh_F5iF7KXz1A1-UBXGCbXpP_dYGo/s400/Temple.Across.River.jpg" border="0" />Last weekend, I had the chance to do something, which I've never done before and that if at the beginning of my time here in India, someone would have told me I was going to get to do, I probably wouldn't have believed them. I went river rafting.<br /><div><br /></div><div>A group of friends and I took a seven hour car trip to a place called Rishikesh, which is known for its river rafting since it's right on the Ganges River. It's quite a small town but has fashioned itself quite well to cater to all the Indian and foreign tourists it receives every year. Above you can see the foot bridge to the other side of the river where there is that temple that towers over everything else. It's quite a site.</div><div><br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070415052298621090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9dCQ5Vf3cGnhLHzHJsE-VKc_njlzrUNTxxFKlHqzkyD3Bbz-1L-w3wxjysIi7MAk_eZdHsKyb5mObny203FPnfGedK9Vdkz0xNgNGQlHYDpY5Y4gm97VRft6WB5D4RUKFN60_u8YNp5n7/s400/Josh.River.Offering.jpg" border="0" /></div><div><br /></div><div>On Saturday morning we walked across the footbridge and I decided to do like many others and give my offering to the sacred Ganges River which is used for countless purposes by Indians from the Himalayas where it starts all the way to Kolkata where it ends. </div><div> </div><div>It's actually quite a serious issue as Indians use it for nearly <em>everything </em>you can possibly think of. This includes bathing, washing dishes, clothes and food while it is also the sacred place to put the remains of dead relatives.</div><div> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070775285394920882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxODc-gXFYdc2uMIP9kSjcvZfuJyBrr5tTvjBXbtYI4Nehb3wpCXWBUrM0radHsHalaR0r-DZKcO7M3eVgMbEXwkzLHCW1OcwnQUEk9zJ3sQ7yYp2z3SGIhlUGmKMnQhJ1Cv3bTJxWeZ2/s400/Josh.Monkey.Attack.jpg" border="0" />For all of you, on our way back from the other side of the bridge, I thought I'd get my picture taken next to one of the "cute" and "friendly" monkeys that sit on the cable all along the footbridge. It could have maybe been my second photo in a row for Grandma's wall!<br /><br /><br />Now many of you may be surprised, but this actually WASN'T a very good idea, as the monkey kindly showed me all of it's teeth and claws and even <em>faked</em> jumping on me! The above photo was taken in the seconds following this near-end-to-my-trip-in-India occurance. If you can't tell, I'm reciting the Lord's Prayer.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070414777420714130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72X5n2DiS1w6nvuj-vzTYu7VeVfSSy6MQzqnPEgkHxoSTlCj6uAaC4YqfzB6ekq9bOcxuDtL4r4u6zXrWJIYCCAicJqOhDCuYhVAI7qy1802PsnL34tq7JYNJhVBwwu4d9iekCxRPTy1S/s400/Rafting.Team.BW.jpg" border="0" />Later in the day we got our chance to river raft - all 26 km. What a fun experience. Here's all of my friends (left to right: Maria, Saray, Gordon, Jose Luis and Raquel)<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070771458579060114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGhnPssjdPnQAQ8YTS58tNQicqjv8nSKPqoYirusJlmF3xjZdvSOEtBWDaEDpegdqDTJ87C7rN_p86q9FqiW8OcKbk7fWvPTOZ-NCuvUbLjO2H0shtGAwdK7H7-yshRbO7WtLPxQVyNN7/s400/Tents.Parachute.jpg" border="0" /><br />After river rafting we made it to our camp for the night. This place was amazing. Right on the river. The common eating/hanging out area is to the left of the tents in the background. The cover is actually a parachute.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihFvnKtul24O4Rr78erMUVM2DYOmdlr-DsgcrqH7rWBnW5_56w-XmYVMqDuLQjQwaw0JyRBmTm7Q5N0ZYt-gwVwAlMPK7zksawl14cT0wRJ3pCbHjcFg26U-_12o4_xVfacMzYpVHZh-Zn/s1600-h/Josh.Jose.Relaxed.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070415249867116722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihFvnKtul24O4Rr78erMUVM2DYOmdlr-DsgcrqH7rWBnW5_56w-XmYVMqDuLQjQwaw0JyRBmTm7Q5N0ZYt-gwVwAlMPK7zksawl14cT0wRJ3pCbHjcFg26U-_12o4_xVfacMzYpVHZh-Zn/s400/Josh.Jose.Relaxed.jpg" border="0" /></a>This is my "new" favorite roommate picture for Jose Luis and I. We were able to go swimming, relax in the shade and enjoy the non-polluted skies of Rishikesh. During the monsoon season and winter most of these camps are not available because the river level is so much higher.<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070412002871840882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDq6_bHze1L5fE8A854NZ1C-Dp205CsngImhI0u2tNGTLEuAc2gJBsHJ0vgvnm2zUn5i-1p4XxfoZ-yksMkWqOqWFSe8Ho55iePJoPVHvHurPz7oQVDPJqreVhe1ws7PvTrg41jFF13-ZR/s400/Group.hike.jpg" border="0" />Sunday was our hiking day, and we went on this pretty short, but really beautiful trail up to a double waterfall. There was one right at the end of the trail, but then Jose Luis and I climbed up to the top where there was a second waterfall that we had all to ourselves. It was paradise. It reminded me of the waterfall from the movie "Cocktail" except instead of being there with Elisabeth Shue, I shared it with Jose Luis. That's okay, Jose. You'd be my second choice. </p><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDfe5a3KAu5BBd-RrsuRjwjyTw-sLQRJ0syanAlrLNqu_lerpDI7yIMPES_GX2XzrZLjMBdd2EFwnZsQA53iYLnAoTUGdBn4Gya3YLNBTeae4q-R4snQbq4_71DK8oWc-6iBM15ze7_mQ/s1600-h/Waterfall.splash.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070412788850856066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDfe5a3KAu5BBd-RrsuRjwjyTw-sLQRJ0syanAlrLNqu_lerpDI7yIMPES_GX2XzrZLjMBdd2EFwnZsQA53iYLnAoTUGdBn4Gya3YLNBTeae4q-R4snQbq4_71DK8oWc-6iBM15ze7_mQ/s400/Waterfall.splash.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div></div>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-50208177141982715842007-05-09T23:31:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:07.347+05:30What does it take to get on Grandma's wall?Some might call this an unusal assortment of things to include on one blog post. Instead, I ask you to think of it as a work of art, a post-modern journal entry, even a masterpiece of Salman Rushdie-esque randomness.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgln2VWLuytAkPWe13ZIgrtOAYoCVbMB4-tqQdjHfC9XWbcRKMQDbwY8zbLeL99Y_ON4SYR6o_fMpMAKdD0nQ0T_KVoM4p_ens86IsxkWebHN687mwk7lXCWfPuBjnxQjZ-qhI6NC39K1XP/s1600-h/Beard.Josh.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgln2VWLuytAkPWe13ZIgrtOAYoCVbMB4-tqQdjHfC9XWbcRKMQDbwY8zbLeL99Y_ON4SYR6o_fMpMAKdD0nQ0T_KVoM4p_ens86IsxkWebHN687mwk7lXCWfPuBjnxQjZ-qhI6NC39K1XP/s400/Beard.Josh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062625980210342162" border="0" /></a>First off, I have been growing a beard, despite the increasing temperature that hovers over 100 degrees almost every day. You see, I started to notice all of the men in India with these extremely long beards (not to mention almost every Sikh male, who all have beards also) and I would ask them, "How can you stand to have a beard in this heat?" Well, the two I have spoken with personally on this topic thus far have told me, "I haven't cut mine in 25 years, so it's really not that big of a deal." I figured, heck, if they can do it, why shouldn't I try. We'll see how long I last...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYRyzSKlMGioka8r-weaZVc4rf7C78jgezFPQ5nR1BrhkDJLk7h9x99VzGksfUPUgo6z2PhcXronbDRuX_w7rr9HO6jNfdJlLQBpWvxnApX5yxAN53w72zbBiFLhTji3rf99S85eYV_89L/s1600-h/Josh.bull.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYRyzSKlMGioka8r-weaZVc4rf7C78jgezFPQ5nR1BrhkDJLk7h9x99VzGksfUPUgo6z2PhcXronbDRuX_w7rr9HO6jNfdJlLQBpWvxnApX5yxAN53w72zbBiFLhTji3rf99S85eYV_89L/s400/Josh.bull.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062625512058906882" border="0" /></a>Above is a shameless attempt to get my picture up on Grandma's wall with all the other animals and add one more photo to Doris's fridge. I know all of you don't personally know my Grandma or Doris, who has adopted me as another grandson, but trust me...it's shameless. And by the way, if you think this photo may have been dangerous to take, you're seriously wrong. The cows, bulls and water buffalo that roam the streets of Delhi (illegally by the way) are more domesticated than the gravel-eating, doggie-door fearing mutt that resides at my Mom's house.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUxHCQGnxM8HZap6gcOukj2GgVUqM1OIwRyWUjhQyxHdJl8JuHZOePoYTOHMLaWQNLYu0Hi2M5ySVxt3Y0HM_o7wAXk6C57DEkHaYat_twYIGJdJhETewdXv0ulJXyRbYf3znRlSdC6SlO/s1600-h/Josh.Lauren.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUxHCQGnxM8HZap6gcOukj2GgVUqM1OIwRyWUjhQyxHdJl8JuHZOePoYTOHMLaWQNLYu0Hi2M5ySVxt3Y0HM_o7wAXk6C57DEkHaYat_twYIGJdJhETewdXv0ulJXyRbYf3znRlSdC6SlO/s400/Josh.Lauren.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062625331670280434" border="0" /></a>Next, I have a new roommate for the next four months: Lauren from New York City! My roommate Ashok is dog-sitting and while he's gone, Lauren is crashing with Jose Luis and I. Lauren is a freelance journalist starting out here in Delhi and she's awesome.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrRz_Q_Nh_44LjPbtL4C4253K2VZUrJTiqTh0vaBGEW3Qx7yS8e1OQwh_16_12wBgeawcLUZrJtxMPnl3E1-mWL5AxZwsvQBVt3PvsBxXyi4VcYHLsIU6hXFxbzV8ZLvm043NWrO0BWgg/s1600-h/Lauren.Sleep.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrRz_Q_Nh_44LjPbtL4C4253K2VZUrJTiqTh0vaBGEW3Qx7yS8e1OQwh_16_12wBgeawcLUZrJtxMPnl3E1-mWL5AxZwsvQBVt3PvsBxXyi4VcYHLsIU6hXFxbzV8ZLvm043NWrO0BWgg/s400/Lauren.Sleep.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062625168461523170" border="0" /></a>She's already making herself comfortable in our house. Enjoy this pic while it's here. When she gets back from Kerala (south India) next week she may push for its removal.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-2OAQadpBrXuANyU8AvbVTYiNU7POCkFcAEaU8xlMWxZMswbLL7ud6s5JBv1htNhZ1ejVygof3MHctvmQrdi7hA6VgJ-PjtYDMo2008IBECLh-yRm_Eay7o2gXTN6OZjwno9RkVXNODEH/s1600-h/Crest.baby.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-2OAQadpBrXuANyU8AvbVTYiNU7POCkFcAEaU8xlMWxZMswbLL7ud6s5JBv1htNhZ1ejVygof3MHctvmQrdi7hA6VgJ-PjtYDMo2008IBECLh-yRm_Eay7o2gXTN6OZjwno9RkVXNODEH/s400/Crest.baby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062624043180091602" border="0" /></a>Finally, this one goes out to my amazing friend, twin sister, and fellow toothpaste snob: Sarah Reiman. My supply of Aquafresh that I had brought with me from the US just recently ran out and I have had to do something Sarah and I have refused to do ever since we were old enough to have a say in the grocery shopping: use a different brand of toothpaste. Aquafresh apparently hasn't made it to the Indian toothpaste market yet, so recently I had to take the plunge and try a new brand. My Colgate is okay, but you know, it's a weird green color, tastes funny and well, it's just not the same.Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-55587527262802928282007-04-29T19:04:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:08.745+05:30The "Taj"Well, this post has been about two months coming. Back at the beginning of February Jose Luis and I decided that we better get our trip to Agra and the Taj Mahal out of the way early. After going to the wrong railway station at 7 a.m. and racing across the city on a rickshaw to the correct station, we arrived at our train precisely at its departure time: 7:15 a.m.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyTf65qJ7T4IGJBHKS5Hb-LBFC4jYx528zgv58LVexB4vMuBzMGVrLtCzklesMaY8qGAvzMnZhRYcpi-GjGFaEZyo3De9KyxjweT-c7JQT_iaDjEVrGQLshYEElouF9Z2jvGLrRthjHujd/s1600-h/Agra.fans.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyTf65qJ7T4IGJBHKS5Hb-LBFC4jYx528zgv58LVexB4vMuBzMGVrLtCzklesMaY8qGAvzMnZhRYcpi-GjGFaEZyo3De9KyxjweT-c7JQT_iaDjEVrGQLshYEElouF9Z2jvGLrRthjHujd/s400/Agra.fans.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058850025352325298" border="0" /></a>While the train was quite crowded, we were lucky to have seats for the four hour journey. It wasn't too hot on the train, but we could tell they were already prepared for the hot months to come.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-unv-lmXn3TYLjOMeCknM6L4e4HluTSeDGDbxigWUVjWmjjwRqBZPM4R_OiFPRKUsssBPiis_yVp0n-1TqjC0WcoeevMOlWxOnQnAfm0XQZ1Oxtj7oXI3RVAwX_BcQ70JrL8PPfeQqza4/s1600-h/Agra.lunch.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-unv-lmXn3TYLjOMeCknM6L4e4HluTSeDGDbxigWUVjWmjjwRqBZPM4R_OiFPRKUsssBPiis_yVp0n-1TqjC0WcoeevMOlWxOnQnAfm0XQZ1Oxtj7oXI3RVAwX_BcQ70JrL8PPfeQqza4/s400/Agra.lunch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058849909388208290" border="0" /></a>Once in Agra, we found a restaurant with dining on the roof and some Australian and German friends to share lunch with. The view from the roof was a perfect teaser before we set off to explore "The Taj" as it is called by locals and tourists alike.<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ImkN_28jGP_s4214-RllZrc-ziHio8ZIcLdMStH5uuaG3giujW0pc81ERqRR-feTva5ERx-umuSDdw7jatT_nppC50VvppcgLmshQOffuVDTATPKhrPdJnw0gF08mXkN5mXYQPfJRqQA/s1600-h/Agra.JandJ.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ImkN_28jGP_s4214-RllZrc-ziHio8ZIcLdMStH5uuaG3giujW0pc81ERqRR-feTva5ERx-umuSDdw7jatT_nppC50VvppcgLmshQOffuVDTATPKhrPdJnw0gF08mXkN5mXYQPfJRqQA/s400/Agra.JandJ.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058845026010392722" border="0" /></a>The classic "Taj" photo. Although you can't see it, there are probably 20 similar photos going on at the exact time just to the right and left of us.<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjRaV4DnR3rvjY9-U5Eh1q3iu0rPU41dF0aWrfAznmmm26MRLTzVlgYAYKJyyBU135SSMsIq96_OcsEqYDAbFNdPpbWk9zBNYk9jIeKDk5EDhO2ZdzsZwxgf957Y_UFoiJqff6emBZYiz/s1600-h/Agra.cameras.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjRaV4DnR3rvjY9-U5Eh1q3iu0rPU41dF0aWrfAznmmm26MRLTzVlgYAYKJyyBU135SSMsIq96_OcsEqYDAbFNdPpbWk9zBNYk9jIeKDk5EDhO2ZdzsZwxgf957Y_UFoiJqff6emBZYiz/s400/Agra.cameras.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058844914341243010" border="0" /></a>I'm actually quite proud of myself for spotting this photo opportunity: all types of tourists, foreigners and Indians alike, taking photos from a variety of angles in front of "The Taj".<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1uyr7QULQE_VGePrxwMp0XsBGQ185rgiNqxXm2Xng4j-4HGKc2Gr8_SrVpVaZl35C8_mhhJog1Mv5trCgK5AxI6-SyDwFqclGLvHbp3jMhtFYTv-XyjeJkJsOGoflAE2-yhuXkpRM6QlX/s1600-h/Agra.mosque.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1uyr7QULQE_VGePrxwMp0XsBGQ185rgiNqxXm2Xng4j-4HGKc2Gr8_SrVpVaZl35C8_mhhJog1Mv5trCgK5AxI6-SyDwFqclGLvHbp3jMhtFYTv-XyjeJkJsOGoflAE2-yhuXkpRM6QlX/s400/Agra.mosque.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058844622283466866" border="0" /></a>Construction of "The Taj" began in 1630, courtesy of the Mughal Emperor Shah Jehan who had it build for his wife, Arjumand Jehal. Agra was the capital of the Mughal emperor between the 16th-19th centuries. It is also symmetrical on all sides and while it is an amazing monument in terms of size and beauty from the outside, the inside is much smaller than I thought and the wear of thousands of tourists on the inside shows. For more info: <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taj_Mahal</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKfwhqTvSRS3h7D8HpzvSmUWF_MLuuUI4_x3hMLd06dyoZXu3fKqbs1RfoamuqshezBiRnYYYbE69qLQyulsbH0azMAxvA9xveAczqprXH7kjA2q2Rq9od1oAyDVgO26rWYmbpCg3r41fi/s1600-h/Agra.bulls.Jose.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKfwhqTvSRS3h7D8HpzvSmUWF_MLuuUI4_x3hMLd06dyoZXu3fKqbs1RfoamuqshezBiRnYYYbE69qLQyulsbH0azMAxvA9xveAczqprXH7kjA2q2Rq9od1oAyDVgO26rWYmbpCg3r41fi/s400/Agra.bulls.Jose.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058844240031377490" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL7tJ-5vEAqPrjtWjmAxCRhe1yIfpD-2a2WUJ2iXklxlZBzyx5zNvKshHS8NobVW1ZLoaa8qipSQyCI8e7vVxxwNVFz8KKkCHOKvCtksS32WOwdxovBje4fvhLkVgoCXz-KsLZ0WoUqaWa/s1600-h/Agra.fort.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL7tJ-5vEAqPrjtWjmAxCRhe1yIfpD-2a2WUJ2iXklxlZBzyx5zNvKshHS8NobVW1ZLoaa8qipSQyCI8e7vVxxwNVFz8KKkCHOKvCtksS32WOwdxovBje4fvhLkVgoCXz-KsLZ0WoUqaWa/s400/Agra.fort.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058844411830069346" border="0" /></a>This photo is taken from Agra Fort. Taj Mahal actually seems a lot closer than it looks in this photo, but my stupid camera always makes things in the background look further away.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbKU0JuNifdQZ02u0gMiz5CAD6bwfP3PZIMX-e4kWpgygNayeqjc5q9BkAp4Vkvhu0j_eH900e7TMBQwyVvX77_IGg6nRKswmbgB6V2rYMQQ8hTGXr-xLS4O6fayf688rW46uqrLqZRFIX/s1600-h/Agra.Josh.mkt.alley.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbKU0JuNifdQZ02u0gMiz5CAD6bwfP3PZIMX-e4kWpgygNayeqjc5q9BkAp4Vkvhu0j_eH900e7TMBQwyVvX77_IGg6nRKswmbgB6V2rYMQQ8hTGXr-xLS4O6fayf688rW46uqrLqZRFIX/s400/Agra.Josh.mkt.alley.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058843960858503234" border="0" /></a>Kirani Market is a crazy place in Agra. There are probably 200 (no joke) sari shops adjacent to each other and somehow they all seem to make a living. A great day trip though. We were back in Delhi by 11 p.m., in time to have some drinks and go dancing with friends.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Yes, it was a long, but incredibly fun day :)<br /></div>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-1718961490081009862007-04-12T09:06:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:09.511+05:30Indian Home Stay<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-lXBSVUWUNJT0opMl0pT3L-XIMjgSkzcROmy5__hqeBOqb6GgoUoJWmV9UXEcJeOmFZ4I3WuICb-t9XnUE2WgkftpzmFYRVVtnSsxf6ORRdLxXd_TsmcxGQPSm45FBGA97gQN1bGcG7md/s1600-h/Shiv+Josh.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-lXBSVUWUNJT0opMl0pT3L-XIMjgSkzcROmy5__hqeBOqb6GgoUoJWmV9UXEcJeOmFZ4I3WuICb-t9XnUE2WgkftpzmFYRVVtnSsxf6ORRdLxXd_TsmcxGQPSm45FBGA97gQN1bGcG7md/s400/Shiv+Josh.2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052380894841235554" border="0" /></a>I know, two blog entries in quick succession! What can I say, with my laptop, “Lapia” as I affectionately refer to her, back in working order with a new adapter cord, I am back in blogging mode.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZYwlzY6JiLEQ2Xuti9fm5vC1hcHBt2A5Bd_Yvpsk4IPOHd8lpmf2LeAz-AkPN36zEL3WT9sfqlWFRzfIp9Cit7pAXQ8cxQwQP9hDefRWJ4gusozBlGGQtDIz6JjD8hAuqQaM0Z_9BVLog/s1600-h/JoshShivInsti.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZYwlzY6JiLEQ2Xuti9fm5vC1hcHBt2A5Bd_Yvpsk4IPOHd8lpmf2LeAz-AkPN36zEL3WT9sfqlWFRzfIp9Cit7pAXQ8cxQwQP9hDefRWJ4gusozBlGGQtDIz6JjD8hAuqQaM0Z_9BVLog/s400/JoshShivInsti.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052381500431624306" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last weekend I had my first “Indian home stay”. The boyfriend of my wonderful friend Andrea, Shivam, whose family is from Jaipur where he grew up, was in <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">India</st1:country-region></st1:place> for three weeks so I made a trip to see them all. I hadn’t seen Shivam in over two years.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdqtKxM-exSVRQiWY4O-oCkclCBYjLIJhvDGrD1fhbT-Y1N5wpyRRHi7kXcP-g040dv4fcoNL4_HQhba-SfdxVZi0O83pXJuqbEFrKbC-jRHoeAZK6tu6PqkVnhNFVjBivcSJwVjDCoBjx/s1600-h/ShivJoshVinayHats.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdqtKxM-exSVRQiWY4O-oCkclCBYjLIJhvDGrD1fhbT-Y1N5wpyRRHi7kXcP-g040dv4fcoNL4_HQhba-SfdxVZi0O83pXJuqbEFrKbC-jRHoeAZK6tu6PqkVnhNFVjBivcSJwVjDCoBjx/s400/ShivJoshVinayHats.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052382088842143874" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Good Friday, we went to Choki Dhani, which is basically like a Rajasthani “village experience” for tourists. It’s more like a village carnival complete with magicians, dancing, gift shops, a maze even and plenty of Rajasthani food.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTHvyxHi22IzcZpww0qWQZ9lusCn51EBZCe15xmjJP2o3p9hm-2I575xGfNA6DoYVRmGHTitS0P7Afxv5dDY44ET-kVdGgmUeWMV5KtrrnfWZZN4SLFX2Jw0B5BGfK7UhRH939Ph35hrnI/s1600-h/IndiaBeginning.2+138.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTHvyxHi22IzcZpww0qWQZ9lusCn51EBZCe15xmjJP2o3p9hm-2I575xGfNA6DoYVRmGHTitS0P7Afxv5dDY44ET-kVdGgmUeWMV5KtrrnfWZZN4SLFX2Jw0B5BGfK7UhRH939Ph35hrnI/s400/IndiaBeginning.2+138.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052383171173902498" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Since I had the opportunity to see all the touristy Jaipur places a couple months back on a weekend trip with roommates, I was able to spend this three day weekend very casually, getting to know Shivam’s family, walking the markets with him and trying just about <i style="">every</i> Rajasthani sweet there is.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGnfGPm0N7kmd2LjGxVjrdFkeL3JiLkdg-Xbq2SdJ3tAg2YzMCKL9m712nGtZmBxp11U6Z5xEVr6I8-v9_QphiMPJhPAXnNB00FFj2PkRTJAQ6CaXn94w3MRgIevzZ9Iyzij3jdb_fmd9N/s1600-h/shiv+family.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGnfGPm0N7kmd2LjGxVjrdFkeL3JiLkdg-Xbq2SdJ3tAg2YzMCKL9m712nGtZmBxp11U6Z5xEVr6I8-v9_QphiMPJhPAXnNB00FFj2PkRTJAQ6CaXn94w3MRgIevzZ9Iyzij3jdb_fmd9N/s400/shiv+family.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052382475389200530" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Shivam’s parents are amazingly sweet people and told me I had a second family in Jaipur anytime I wanted a weekend away from <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Delhi</st1:city></st1:place>.</p>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-4701929693803723402007-04-03T21:31:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:10.518+05:30700 Million Indians<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHew6t5gXi93iZr9Xh9Ic3ljUW9x0p9fT6VCQT4VQGhBEZO_mo5pQyVnIy4oEppzR_sdEsN9Q7RtEbfJdn6fZ-rxgJyOiib9yG2BWwOC9B4Py6g8v08ZKscFnrkhyphenhyphenwOB1In3F0tOP0pbru/s1600-h/IndiaBeginning.2+062.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHew6t5gXi93iZr9Xh9Ic3ljUW9x0p9fT6VCQT4VQGhBEZO_mo5pQyVnIy4oEppzR_sdEsN9Q7RtEbfJdn6fZ-rxgJyOiib9yG2BWwOC9B4Py6g8v08ZKscFnrkhyphenhyphenwOB1In3F0tOP0pbru/s400/IndiaBeginning.2+062.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051792634645538818" border="0" /></a>Two weekends ago I had the opportunity to visit a number of rural India´s villages, the India that over 700 million Indians call home (of population of 1.1 billion). Specifically, I was in the area around Ranchi, which is the capitol of an eastern Indian state called, Jharkhand. Now Ranchi has a population of over 2 million, but I only stayed the nights in Ranchi. The rest of the time I was outside the capitol learning all about check dams, lift and drip irrigation systems and irrigation channels, underground water tables, self help groups, integrated water harvesting-livestock ponds, village development committees, primary care hospitals and the Standard Days Method (SDM) they are promoting to village women who choose (for different reasons) to not use contraceptives, but are able to keep track of where they are in their menstrual cycle through a necklace of red and white beads.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9LuWgEprsooQUvb5BohKQ7Q7Y4lH6djbuT6-_b0ad2Vq5HWMj5AFt4bt9DKKDBGmp6uapZgsnDwNEbPB4ugSxuboHCKZsSnIiYH21Wziu-3ZAy5VSLzuUnsVZ354Dyt3bDEg5xC_yZzgF/s1600-h/IndiaBeginning.2+061.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9LuWgEprsooQUvb5BohKQ7Q7Y4lH6djbuT6-_b0ad2Vq5HWMj5AFt4bt9DKKDBGmp6uapZgsnDwNEbPB4ugSxuboHCKZsSnIiYH21Wziu-3ZAy5VSLzuUnsVZ354Dyt3bDEg5xC_yZzgF/s400/IndiaBeginning.2+061.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051789671118104562" border="0" /></a><br />This man was telling me how before his current pond and help from the local foundation the water would collect in the hills and drain right down and go to waste. Now they are able to collect it through a complex water harvesting system.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw4M55SboywrQgfugfVMPKXH7yeuU_gX7_Hwp4NYo-iTCqZ8Ece9bb_9XEceqNXhkBmSPQy-VycrgQsFYyVbEdZ3vHR0wj9-YrJzBQyZuz1oaAGpq0Mc2si9ykqjwbHzDlUt59FyaUoH7R/s1600-h/IndiaBeginning.2+067.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw4M55SboywrQgfugfVMPKXH7yeuU_gX7_Hwp4NYo-iTCqZ8Ece9bb_9XEceqNXhkBmSPQy-VycrgQsFYyVbEdZ3vHR0wj9-YrJzBQyZuz1oaAGpq0Mc2si9ykqjwbHzDlUt59FyaUoH7R/s400/IndiaBeginning.2+067.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051796195173427218" border="0" /></a><br />At our first village, my colleague Franz and I were able to meet with over 60 local villagers.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvIyd2mfHYDaqVLOaLEnC2GBevbYmlohygGHvUsBnZfEsp3kms1ENzfzeYDjUt3PsNmAfBtU7MLiHDt30mtdw-xj_L-WrEymDjqVPExt6BZzC8zEiS8_pVMisybsbZisDgY69Ac3pXJ3kZ/s1600-h/IndiaBeginning.2+076.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvIyd2mfHYDaqVLOaLEnC2GBevbYmlohygGHvUsBnZfEsp3kms1ENzfzeYDjUt3PsNmAfBtU7MLiHDt30mtdw-xj_L-WrEymDjqVPExt6BZzC8zEiS8_pVMisybsbZisDgY69Ac3pXJ3kZ/s400/IndiaBeginning.2+076.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051797672642177058" border="0" /></a>At the third village on the first day, we met with the school´s student parliament. A group of eight girls sang us a welcome song and gave us bouquets of flowers. I then told them that I too took part in our version of student parliament throughout middle and high school. I failed to mention that I think I wrapped up the middle school vice-president election with a promise of an indoor roller hockey league.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ZkM11Y_9zqIhyzsjAAmn3mbSW1fpOODS3lihfOdEPIH_NN8qnlX483p7xlKu26cjAfUWakSB6JvMfJgOv4yvmF0gPJbx2KzcPzjQSLDzS480tTmFM5mNvet58xRPAa4uTxtcYPERGn1V/s1600-h/IndiaBeginning.2+080.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ZkM11Y_9zqIhyzsjAAmn3mbSW1fpOODS3lihfOdEPIH_NN8qnlX483p7xlKu26cjAfUWakSB6JvMfJgOv4yvmF0gPJbx2KzcPzjQSLDzS480tTmFM5mNvet58xRPAa4uTxtcYPERGn1V/s400/IndiaBeginning.2+080.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051817880463304754" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">The second day we were able to visit two local hospitals that serve 7 and 13 villages respectively.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiubPOHHWroTapkk7OYHUjeq2qU3icrXY9IUSCfL0HE-7B59OpBx8k_4Wua3EzfIjpU3OnQ08uIQpH5SEXkYXgtTsMvVqjL_2zVWME01-CYlz3-UIXYqd9j0AOSvdtsd65cBO3imAzv2Dz7/s1600-h/IndiaBeginning.2+081.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiubPOHHWroTapkk7OYHUjeq2qU3icrXY9IUSCfL0HE-7B59OpBx8k_4Wua3EzfIjpU3OnQ08uIQpH5SEXkYXgtTsMvVqjL_2zVWME01-CYlz3-UIXYqd9j0AOSvdtsd65cBO3imAzv2Dz7/s400/IndiaBeginning.2+081.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051823940662159426" border="0" /></a>The plane ride home was a little harey (hairy?) to say the least. On take off apparently, one of our wheels burnt off or hit something and was completely flat when we landed in Delhi. We were greeted by a fire engine and some security personnel from the airport. I was utterly confused as I had slept through all of the announcements and our first attempted landing :)<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtH4k75S9B-I9nGH4kQQiWzEHqR8WAE_j-KUYtehQrCOhB6zPfZV8ebmkBc6SQjQIf57kwirTE8jyxjhOtlLwZfOz6dSjaFP6yfIISp1kE4g4Xa7cRg3VTta7jxtmBFD_IeuBTCHj1m-W/s1600-h/IndiaBeginning.2+094.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtH4k75S9B-I9nGH4kQQiWzEHqR8WAE_j-KUYtehQrCOhB6zPfZV8ebmkBc6SQjQIf57kwirTE8jyxjhOtlLwZfOz6dSjaFP6yfIISp1kE4g4Xa7cRg3VTta7jxtmBFD_IeuBTCHj1m-W/s400/IndiaBeginning.2+094.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051832788294789202" border="0" /></a>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-90886426472882316422007-03-17T19:04:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:11.426+05:30The New Flat<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9GmAZs-DKEOjJABQ4Zff5Hh-jNtlXM_ItLffTW4d8QOpsKRwL1WKeLrd65-dqyIKkxDNUGcuB1UZkxRoAyHneFT33-w21oGySLSDd_9JxBdG51kMd4d5KIMoaf0OE_zQQsb3ffKEqqGw/s1600-h/Image+027.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9GmAZs-DKEOjJABQ4Zff5Hh-jNtlXM_ItLffTW4d8QOpsKRwL1WKeLrd65-dqyIKkxDNUGcuB1UZkxRoAyHneFT33-w21oGySLSDd_9JxBdG51kMd4d5KIMoaf0OE_zQQsb3ffKEqqGw/s400/Image+027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043288326934155682" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Well this is the flat that Ashok, Jose Luis and myself have been living in for the past month and a half. We are in a neighborhood called ¨Safdarjung Enclave¨, which is in South Delhi. It´s a pretty central location to see a lot of our friends and get around Delhi for different activities...Below is our main living space...living room and dining room in one.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2E7FFuEFQY4ryLlTqbkpEjEe9Y-7LbQ1Exdsw5radichU5Dcw6g7ZBxzVDsop7um7X1g-f2_rhy1RTCsSWAokWn-ws35CSHkQ5CQPYjz8J4f4ccd4NaamS9-XeDRJtzije9Q7xQZjpUUA/s1600-h/Image+105.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2E7FFuEFQY4ryLlTqbkpEjEe9Y-7LbQ1Exdsw5radichU5Dcw6g7ZBxzVDsop7um7X1g-f2_rhy1RTCsSWAokWn-ws35CSHkQ5CQPYjz8J4f4ccd4NaamS9-XeDRJtzije9Q7xQZjpUUA/s400/Image+105.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042887215643414866" border="0" /></a>This is our terrace that looks out on the street. It´s big enough to hang our clothes to dry and also sit outside to either enjoy a book in the shade or watch the activities happening down below in the neighborhood.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirDtjAwMrapYBZEJsaEPwLuQTZC3QepW6pqWmUNzJHSOMnYzOXKVYLF42z8FgK2VICvbhiwPGcASNW_oI9bWX2SPmux1WkPB7ooaNVYgNpV5zEZTqUL378eN2u5BT92KEbJvZ5Mwn7tTGz/s1600-h/Image+103.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirDtjAwMrapYBZEJsaEPwLuQTZC3QepW6pqWmUNzJHSOMnYzOXKVYLF42z8FgK2VICvbhiwPGcASNW_oI9bWX2SPmux1WkPB7ooaNVYgNpV5zEZTqUL378eN2u5BT92KEbJvZ5Mwn7tTGz/s400/Image+103.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042888495543669106" border="0" /></a>This is my bedroom. Nothing too fancy, but I do have my own bathroom. Actually, each of us have our own bathroom, which isn´t too uncommon for the above average flats in South Delhi.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtzYWEycVBk6NqNoHt3gOcORadWE6u40rTu-WfOmqpLtVkXPTWXh8Jwu4g3bVwCN6kYBOvAL6HdULO_UK-hua9Qrk26GBODLksseZHPxw51HSWgKgzBOdLP3UtsvQVc9y6TQc5jg8II1WF/s1600-h/Image+104.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtzYWEycVBk6NqNoHt3gOcORadWE6u40rTu-WfOmqpLtVkXPTWXh8Jwu4g3bVwCN6kYBOvAL6HdULO_UK-hua9Qrk26GBODLksseZHPxw51HSWgKgzBOdLP3UtsvQVc9y6TQc5jg8II1WF/s400/Image+104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042888229255696738" border="0" /></a>This is one of the monuments within Lodi Gardens, one of Delhi´s many beautiful parks. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">When you come to visit me (start making plans :)</span>, we´ll walk through this park...perfect for a relaxing evening walk.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMLByiauKxHUHBgT7SUkoo_1vTEiM7gQRksm2Y7DgmFYF0a11CmmExR5wAXWws4zh40lA8PsYc9bc7DLe6LEGRXh6N1EoTs6h7GU4tpqjo1VMPZkC7fP1jeiNBUPo7E4BaOFJpO4FQf6uo/s1600-h/Image+084.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMLByiauKxHUHBgT7SUkoo_1vTEiM7gQRksm2Y7DgmFYF0a11CmmExR5wAXWws4zh40lA8PsYc9bc7DLe6LEGRXh6N1EoTs6h7GU4tpqjo1VMPZkC7fP1jeiNBUPo7E4BaOFJpO4FQf6uo/s400/Image+084.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042888950810202498" border="0" /></a>And if you missed this up above...yes, that´s right. I now have a sweet black ¨Givson¨ acoustic guitar to play over here in India! If possible, it´s almost always MUCH, MUCH less expensive to buy domestic products, as certain imported goods are taxed a lot coming into the country.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElFMqhj1r8Pi8tl21T_zJh7ys9tt78B5gYw43sWPt2HUU2pt9d_Ef5DjF7RtWd5_K2FXrptk-br3pjuuj6WedbyQODNbhtTUL32rSeTv_CgTn-kjKZ27NjsISKfOV7qlyOWu9oxYoi4oL/s1600-h/Image.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElFMqhj1r8Pi8tl21T_zJh7ys9tt78B5gYw43sWPt2HUU2pt9d_Ef5DjF7RtWd5_K2FXrptk-br3pjuuj6WedbyQODNbhtTUL32rSeTv_CgTn-kjKZ27NjsISKfOV7qlyOWu9oxYoi4oL/s400/Image.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042899099817922962" border="0" /></a>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-62553624099929649142007-03-05T20:16:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:11.963+05:30Holi India!<div align="center"> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038460065013144914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3-q78OU0qGSVru8dWVkIJELPCaUe0y1ZVOeVya8_9WYPykP29ySM_qnGY6P4uTcizrUT7KpVmnZKWv2jbendU6kDKyx_L-MrbVIr5sJ8ON3a_R7BuBIESuN6BA6XRvdnUt1HCIgY5uTR/s400/Image+049.jpg" border="0" /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">That’s not a typo my friends, just a bad pun that I couldn’t resist. This past Sunday people from all over India, young and old, ¨played Holi¨. This really unique tradition consists of covering each other in colors. These colors usually are powders called ¨gulal¨ and ¨abeer¨ or powder mixed with water that everyone gleefully tosses by hand, throws via water balloon, squirts from bottles or shoots at one another via water guns. </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038463277648682338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGHpdaUSzBpyG85MaZmQhOYatl73fAdgUVLU23I6ck6VOJ1LA2mpxxoOr0cvz7jKH2O2HQne7PekfkCIc9BGXCsP8XAmWjYSQPgc_M_yzpXAg-r2bA2wslt5knK7WdfKXKitCue38D-due/s400/Image+051.jpg" border="0" /><p align="center">I was wondering prior to Sunday how you ¨played Holi¨, as everyone says. Are there rules? Is there any structure to playing Holi? Or is it complete chaos?<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038465588341087602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Jrf37N3_k8JVv0sLH00hyUJGqGWk-p7njeNQBtKBhBehOZZeYWa0LoTLyj9JuyFewg8Drt-k3ZhGeLZOFZOxn0rdzA6eaNmqJGsBGu3GEdsh1NhQI53fy2wx2WUhCjYSHi298QLSG2KP/s400/Image+059.jpg" border="0" /><p align="center">It’s complete chaos.<br /><br />Now, the basic exchange of colors on one another can actually be quite peaceful and touching. While walking to the university, where we started the day, the first colors put on us were from some people from an extremely poor area of shacks and makeshift homes. They greeted us saying ¨Happy Holi¨ and then put colors on our foreheads or cheeks and then gave us hug. At the university, it was a little crazier scene, to say the least. It is said that, ¨No other festival gives so much liberty to the people to let their hair loose and enjoy their hidden crazy self.¨ Almost every male person’s t-shirt was ripped off sooner or later where we were. There is lots of dancing, spontaneous group singing, and basically all around merriment. Almost anything goes. </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038468663537671554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW_0rRRhjNSC9K7o-q8ggRlTpgolIA_ePTQBUdcBsqYzpwJmdvOYlau_70nQxanTd_5TjBRa-9WKkh1hY_5rhZne03lbvwQYp9SzThBJFDRh4vRIu0Js4fUeObK7Bndjo94pk623Za8yUv/s400/Image+050.jpg" border="0" />As the day goes on and peoples´ bodies become that much filthier, the range of items people use to cover each other expands to include mud and pretty much anything else you can find to smear on one another.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038457526687472962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgphmO7_SxlsDQhlpJbbrpga6C3f2WZGiyvzkhYI1SfnHp5d6t9vbYmcrX_SJhDEteYWTyQjv2kPzyQ7nW3I0J1P-dDT0psa63318vulHI4h9bil5ydddHJ7lQb5RYEW2z-aLamDUfL2gqe/s400/Image+038.jpg" border="0" /><p align="center">Now the history around this holiday is a little fuzzy as I had a difficult time getting much of an answer from my work mates as to why we cover each other in all these colors, but why let a little history complicate a really fun tradition, right? After a little research, I learned that people from all over India celebrate different Hindi legends associated with ¨Holi¨. You can learn more about this amazingly unique festival at </span><a href="http://www.holifestival.org/"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://www.holifestival.org/</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">.</span> </p>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-31633002782361011102007-02-26T20:22:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:12.836+05:30Breaking the Bubble<span style="font-size:85%;">My Mom told me the other day that The Herald, Everett´s local newspaper, ran a news story about ¨female foeticide¨ or ¨infanticide¨, generally the killing of a female infant before or directly after birth because of its gender. While I was thrilled to know The Herald was running this story, as it rarely runs international stories of substance, it reminded me of how US-centric our mainstream US media is and how little they cover pressing world issues (outside the realm of US military engagements). Realize that the Seattle Post-Intelligencer runs on page 2 every day of its ¨A¨ section, something titled to the effect of ¨Around the World¨ that gives short summaries of 10 ¨world¨ stories from that day. Almost every day, five of these 10 are from the US.<br /><br />You wonder why so many American college students are shocked at what they learn about the world when they study abroad for the first time? In my opinion, our media reinforces the nice bubble most of us live in and similarly, we don’t demand stories from them on these issues.<br /><br />There are obviously countless pressing human rights issues around the world, but the following five issues: child soldiers, infanticide, human sex trafficking, child labor and ¨honor¨ killings, are pervasive on multiple continents and are rarely covered by the mainstream US media. I’ve included a link for you to learn more. Similarly, there are countless resources on the Internet.</span><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035860954001843890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNh-pH9ZXrHe0kHDZl1zonfQu_8sbLSot84f-DDOOptK0RVJM9GT_SjtXhoRXKbQn7j4IJ7zkZVECCIG_6SGypJcQhKLeGIa5d-a3xGu1tzk0sswBfPnQ2YaRbMZNfLW0NYK8iFWXm8nwy/s400/Blog_ChildSoldiers.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">- Child Soldiers -<br /><span style="color:#000099;"><a href="http://web.amnesty.org/pages/childsoldiers-africanchild-eng">http://web.amnesty.org/pages/childsoldiers-africanchild-eng</a></span></span><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035866893941614306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBGUG5tE9uR2P96PlScHuZf69Y9MC58_dMwAfopUhJn7B9VErZysUKkpU4U9jCo4mCElaM86Hcdp9YU7PF3pX7cARjVI7PU3jQZX1bG8g6wASGkBsIAaDIZQAlHPI6K44RD5ef3P-LoBU/s400/Blog_Baby.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">- Infanticide -<br /></span><a href="http://www.gendercide.org/case_infanticide.html"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://www.gendercide.org/case_infanticide.html</span></a></div><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035865300508747474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyRvhA3jTNfYx4ds9pHryTTwuaiGTSH-xUBBU58Ug_MyUVH2h18L5GkqhIO2WI7Chbe_gzQ5ECdGi5XS_TjJGEpV53c0Vl1xFhnPZtDkD9YKcAlhtgJcOIo-7IXwIZaS5eDu257Zur_59d/s400/Blog_HumanTrafficking.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">- Human Sex Trafficking -<br /></span><a href="http://www.asiapacificms.com/articles/japan_slave_trade/"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://www.asiapacificms.com/articles/japan_slave_trade/</span></a></p><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035861203109947074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl5zWKbvnp6xW7FqAHJTq32PZQS1lcKRVu4A4YkhA3OO1H_3DQ12rcpAl0YwDsJc9jiB9DJLBVtEAYQM9AMdLwnj04SWoJwb8rr8v24A8LmDSKwyNSaeOGhIvggaWgCB986aRdzM1VF-6F/s400/Blog_Panama-refugee-girl.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">- Child Labor -<br /></span><a href="http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/02/18/news/india.php"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/02/18/news/india.php</span></a><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035868732187617010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGzhBlGwzANG0hSwlwd4HVGFB7831xacazwZPAFwx5hR6JjtQTmXA4mH4mmeVgwD2LLPueJvoGEn6Gmg7Sol2_K1ymCnCRTgQ29S-HY93g9FAm-ty2xaGduRGGDBisiRc1q7y-_d_EsVP/s400/Blog_HonorKillings.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">- ¨Honor¨ Killings -<br /></span><a href="http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2002/02/0212_020212_honorkilling.html"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2002/02/0212_020212_honorkilling.html</span></a></p>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-15829050077090516962007-02-22T19:52:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:13.409+05:30The Celebrity of being White<div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">This time I am reaching out to all of you who read this to get your opinion on something that happens fairly often here. Jose Luis and I are approached all the time in public places and asked to have our picture taken with other Indians. I don’t really understand this phenomenon. I mean I know I had my picture on the front page of the Local section in the Everett Herald once and have been contributing to this blog which I’m sure reaches people on all corner of the globe by now, but I still have a hard time believing they are the sources of my celebrity. As for Jose Luis, it’s obvious. He’s just plain good looking.<br /><br />That said, I don’t completely understand why this is appealing to so many Indians and would like to hear your perspective on this. Many of you have traveled around the world yourself. I would love to hear your thoughts.<br /><br /><strong>Why do Indians want their picture taken with foreigners, particularly foreigners who are definitely not from South Asia? </strong><br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034369144861923906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY6lqgEMmR5v0_Vw1grEgaYsUQx7N8CTKbpe5e_4UMWckzGRP6MZSwn_-baWNS94nR9zb47JYp-EZjPfiBGsp9-GczIVqbGs79pF2dyJepTUa5UFupCWg9ygvMXXtFpOrDT8_esmkjayBu/s400/Imagen+092.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center">With some women right after I´d had my picture taken with their family<br /></p></span><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034370192833944146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVv0gNArtcEr0ncvDymhpzx6nKG2z-cwVPuHkWVnod2_PpOjS8s-ylX7QEAo93LjL3QY6eED4XhwzdZehPSJixCysWZtBewqB6QuLLpStTU5_epk1CcwB2gq_6mifbbLroKyMlQE1yVyvZ/s400/Imagen+135.jpg" border="0" /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">Jose Luis getting his picture taken with a nice young guy in front of India Gate<br /></div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034370824194136674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8CqQW86YobN5a6s11uLE2kj1wceUV09DfGCbaP7s-IuKotn93T5EabSMtr7Il2iHrIjGxR6e43VW7sNGbVwbRhoQwqkDB7lKiO3e74SQlst54HEN-ISVFuGrvKqJNGulEu42Kp6gGTCs9/s400/Imagen+137.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">In front of India Gate with a couple of young ladies who had asked</span></p>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-33717188725853449422007-02-19T23:15:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:13.734+05:30Poverty in the City<div align="left"> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">One of the most sobering elements of living in India is seeing the drastic difference in living standards between people. I’ve offered some statistics in past entries to give you an idea of per-capita income vs. that in the USA and India’s Human Development Index rating, but now I would rather give you a few day-to-day examples of how I see the poverty play out in my daily life.<br /><br />It is very common for poor families or individuals to wait at busy intersections and:<br />* Provide some form of entertainment (i.e. do somersaults with a partner, play an instrument while a child dances, etc.) and then ask for money<br />* Sell magazines, books, balloons, newspapers<br />* Simply motion with their cupped hand from their stomach to their mouth and ask for money<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034436459884354178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs72301Rg8J1RodQEUNwNQtz_hyqeMX_eYBFadfykwZXLnWnkjLxLjtxjFeY0oNPjeIGFIIBKvFDHbmOdHNWV6ha2skod0ZF3OprZVrVKmVuOxpk77jTLNvhLGdWO8ibj-i_hl1Ely9Cm2/s400/Imagen+127.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033306179110869538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rPfdZHg0M2o/RdnlTWOumiI/AAAAAAAAAEI/Vmn_kJ494Nk/s400/Imagen+127.jpg" border="0" /><p align="center"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><strong>(Jose Luis and I at a wedding engagement last Sunday. These are the fortunate kids.)</strong></span><br /><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Often times it is children who do the asking, as their parents sit in the median or the side of the road. As you can probably imagine, these children are far more effective in asking for money than their parents. All of these individuals are clearly very poor. Their skin and hair are very dirty. Their clothes are often rags and at times they are barefoot. They come right up to you, tap on your window, look you in the eye, sometimes tugging on your pant leg and ask for some help. Everyone approaches these requests differently. Some people role up their windows. Others look the other way. Some say ¨Sorry, I can’t help you.¨ A few give them some Rps.<br /><br />It’s difficult to know when to help them out and when not to. Speaking for myself, I simply can’t help them every time they ask. Further, it is clearly a very short-term solution to a very complex problem and it is not always used by the families for the purposes one would hope. However, there´s no doubt these five or 10 rupees I can give them is more than they had a few moments before.<br /><br /><strong>Three personal experiences to share - </strong></span><br /></p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">#1: My second week in Gurgaon I was at a busy intersection in the back of a taxi when I suddenly had four, five, maybe six people, kids and adults, pleading directly outside my window for money. I felt incredibly sorry for these people. As I rolled down the window just a little bit to give one of them a 10 Rp. note hands from all of them shot through the open window. I suddenly had all of these hands grabbing wildly inside the car at this note in my hand. One of them took it and I was left with the looks on the faces of all those who came up empty handed.</span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034439827138714258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgXMi_T5fde4cB0f7U5q6fA3NE4F-xP2TfhTyJBvFQe6piKzj1UDH5-iPL_RTpOlfuB7ICOKn9BUJPnwAcJE9iUUulhcESRYQMHmrwzSIZGHr6j3VUiiWDaWkXnW52xDcc5JIHEMi1wks-/s400/Imagen+125.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><strong>(Four brothers - The oldest in the upper right is who invited us to the engagement.)</strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">#2: A few weeks back, I was waiting outside the grocery store with my friend Leonor, waiting for my roommate Ashok was inside. A girl who couldn’t have been more than 7 or 8 years old approached us both asking for money. Leonor promptly went inside and bought a baguette for her. The young girl quickly took it over to her Mom who was nearby. Ashok came out from the store and we started to walk off when the Mom and kids approached us again. The Mom said that her kids prefer chocolate.<br /><br />#3: Finally, a couple weeks ago, it was about 10 p.m. and I was trying to hail an auto rickshaw on a busy intersection near an underpass. I realized quickly that while this was probably the best place to find an auto rickshaw, it was also an area dense with cars waiting at stop lights, and a prime spot to be approached by poor individuals. I suddenly had five kids all around me asking for money. All kids with no parents whom I could see close by. They were tugging on my pant legs and touching my shoes. They surrounded me. There wasn’t one above 12 years old. I was just astonished at the unfairness in the world. Why were they given this life? Why was I blessed with my life? I played t-ball when I was there age and went to school every day. They’re being forced to beg on a street corner.<br /><br />These are just a few examples of how this plays out on a daily basis. There are so many issues to consider in this conversation on poverty and I will try to offer my perspective on some of them in the months to come. </span></p>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-56538563893409319912007-02-12T19:04:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:14.569+05:30Why Move Overseas?<div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">There are three main themes of living overseas that make it so exciting and I must say, addicting to a certain degree, for me (and I imagine most others). These will be recurrent themes as I chronicle my time over here and hopefully offer you some insight.<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030646082526157282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL6mZYBjJJmk3zYGQJGuW_OERdNmsyeA6cx0RqXu_ljhwvh7wetnrqLajs4DIb23TaYhxCeKomozKadY7YUAdR_UB5myszOvLt9j_-yYlQG_Sh83dLedX5iBGLFbWntSkwMPqrxlfaV5SD/s400/Imagen+046.jpg" border="0" /><p align="center"><strong>(On the roof of our apartment building)</strong> </span><br /></p><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />1) The challenge of living in a different culture without the safety net of friends, family and a way of life I know so well.<br />2) The adventure of experiencing things completely unique to a certain part of the world – seeing, hearing, tasting, feeling things I might never be able to in the NW.<br />3) The amazing people whose context for life is most often times radically different than mine.<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030678651263162898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKec8ZCP_VFwaoIqX3OdyLOEqNsQzUln2GEGaDwX2VS3erj3E86edfdv5u5sufN1PghRqvBZmKJShgOMCByOr_q48BHgY347FMU55XYQdD1K-o56-ZTzMtwrGuamahyphenhyphenZeWdrHBkxfuEwkm/s320/IndiaBeginning.2+033.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><strong>(My friend Leonor from Bilbao, Spain [top], my roommate, Jose Luis, from San Sebastian, Spain [middle] and my other roommate Ashok, from Kerala, India - this is the highest point in Delhi)</strong></div><br />Last week, I had a day that profoundly struck a chord of this third theme and reminded me exactly why I wanted to live overseas again. During the afternoon before a meeting in Delhi, a man named Popu offered to shine my shoes. I often feel awkward about accepting services like this, but I said okay. He originally offered to do it for 8 Rps., less than $.20 (I ended up paying him 25 Rps.), and you can see in the eyes of people like Popu that they sure have no shame doing their job. He’s making a living. As I was sitting next to him on the ground (he offered me his sandals while he shined my shoes) I learned he had been shining shoes on this corner for 15 years and supporting his wife, two sons and daughter.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030654496367090162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7QtnRRnx9CXbztr3vRrNIo9FXseyFmp-c29PTQEdMeSYUltmh7bXlH3YgMI391I6mTH5GA8-YgqQn-xNoy8WyvCQ8m_82Hbub9kdqJwKhtsUnmdZBzyUwfd6byX_U1pMV9K2DsGvYH4A1/s400/Imagen+041.jpg" border="0" /><p align="center"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>(Our flat is on the second floor of the brick building behind this sweet five-story spiral staircase)</strong></span><br /><br /></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">Then on my way home, I passed a little stand that was selling mattresses and pillows. I happened to need a pillow so I inquired inside. Beneath the tin room sat three men. The man in the middle, Abdullah, asked me where I was from (a common question) and I replied, ¨the United States.¨ Turns out Abdullah, a Sunni Muslim, left Baghdad, Iraq just 11 days ago and moved to Delhi to escape the war. Politely, but emphatically, he reminded me that nearly all Iraqis are ¨peace-loving people¨ and that they didn’t want this war. I told him that many Americans also don´t want this war and are upset that their government is supporting it. Obviously, Abdullah has seen a side of this war most of us can probably never imagine from what we read and watch on TV.<br /></p><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030667222355188226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdng3A-IuWuuV_CsExJv7kFNg75hfNIQ0IEnu6Gdi7i3JyeStujKvDQj53ks_wRVWyPWyFniX5_EhOxz3O_DUX8Dfg-LCpqsJtDUbejSQbFne2UDZg0Fz0xr5w-C6YL1OcrDOnqInxtZb_/s320/Imagen+028.jpg" border="0" /><strong>(Carla de Madrid, Spain, Pablo de Valencia, Spain y Josh de Everett, USA)</strong></span></p><span style="font-size:85%;">Finally, later in the evening, I was walking the maze of side streets and narrow pathways of our neighborhood, Safdarjung Enclave, where countless little shops, vegetable carts, barbershops and tailors reside. I stepped inside one to buy bread and butter and met Monesh, or ¨Roger¨ as he goes by when he works at Delhi Call Center (DCC). Monesh is a friend of the store owner and was just hanging out. He told me, in great English with a slight accent, that currently he was working the UK shift where he works from about 4 p.m. – 2 a.m. to coincide with UK day and evening hours. Working at a call center in India is an incredibly sought after job for its high pay (15-25K Rps./month) and good job benefits. For example, last year Infosys (India´s Microsoft) received 1.4 million job applications of which they hired 2%. I coincidentally ran into him again the other day and now he is on the Australia shift: 4 a.m. – 2 p.m.</span>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-76224289631113883322007-02-10T20:26:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:14.861+05:30Littering<span style="font-size:85%;">To rightfully honor my time at Luxury Homestays (my guest house), I need to introduce the people I lived with for the past month. The main staff is comprised of five men, (RK Sharma [far left], Sangram [right of me], Rudra, Dilip [far right] and Harish). They always call me “sir” and have really taken me in. They have no relation to each other. They simply all work at the guest house for a man named AK Mishra.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5029927216669956546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoTmxWo8_W0w0DQKHAneo9w7v1zkXRPpVfulGVUQKDljF3UwYE4XCB2ZXUw8aJXghjLBP1vXa4flLHW1y84k1PD6RDU9TAIKbnfzxJ31NJmuygFbpjODck-7jd7Tztd18NhWFhpT4yyaEw/s400/IndiaBeginning.2+037.jpg" border="0" /><br />About three weeks ago, I was taking a taxi into Delhi and was sharing it with RK Sharma who was going to see his brother that day. Mr. Sharma is incredibly kind and gentle soul who shared a number of memorable conversations with me on a variety of “life topics”. Well, on this taxi trip to Delhi he mentioned that he had heard that in the United States if you throw something out the window (here he imitates tossing something out the open window with his fingers) you get fined. Now remember, in Delhi and especially in Gurgaon, there is garbage everywhere – on the streets, in the fields, on the ground in the markets. It’s incredibly difficult to find a garbage can (which is probably one the main reason culprits), so the idea of it being illegal to throw something on the ground is quite outrageous.<br /><br />At this point, I did the math in my head and told him that the fine is around 4,000 Rps (a little less than $90) at which point the taxi driver and him burst out laughing uncontrollably. This was not “ha ha” laughter. This was laughter that accompanies the amazing, the ridiculous, the “I-can’t-believe-I-just-heard/saw-that”. You see, most Indians make less than 2,700 Rps./month, roughly $60. The annual per capita income in India is $720. In the United States, it is $42,000. <em>(Source: International Monetary Fund, 2005)</em></span> <div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5029929454347917778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLPZ7f7xTxetEqkwiMgA_OvBdpCFMBqj93rNizFxe6ToBy4ILj4MzZ0CS9_cmo32dsu_xettZXiOxeWxYGVCQ1CpwBK3ZWolHGGWC1kvymGK5n9S5QvPMMZUFobjar1aYuQfsQmhDTM_vX/s400/IndiaBeginning.2+036.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Adios Mr. Sharma…</span><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>Quiz question #1:</strong> Do you know the country with the highest per capita income in the world, by far? </span><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>Homework:</strong> Learn about the <strong>Human Development Index</strong>, which is part of the United Nations Development Program´s annual Human Development Report. Many see this formula as a much more complete look at the quality of life amongst people in countries around the world. (i.e. The country with the highest per capita income is ranked 12th in the Human Development Index).</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://hdr.undp.org/hdr2006/statistics/indices/default.cfm">http://hdr.undp.org/hdr2006/statistics/indices/default.cfm</a></span></div></div>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6466157994549422354.post-8466989498217643102007-02-07T20:21:00.000+05:302008-12-09T04:57:15.143+05:30The Routine<div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:85%;">A couple weeks without the Internet, but I'm back up and wired. I'm learning patience though. Now that I have the Internet, of course my power cord to my laptop needs to be replaced. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />I have received some inquiries into what my daily life is like over here in India and while it is easy to begin to think, “Well, it’s not that exciting”, I do realize that by living in a developing country, one’s daily routine is naturally going to be a little different than back in America.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHY9ssW3d6aIxVSkU1TC-1Sb1Fo33oLocGV-Gvcvl57cf9KzJMDuqXUv21J8pgrNmJ0cQyd3cg0L40suW0EZMnew6C6oI2efFk-YVLwqP04_b_KNf2TTFu5XGCGs2i8UAkfp9VkgYCE2rb/s1600-h/IndiaBeginning.2+028.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028807230295992146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHY9ssW3d6aIxVSkU1TC-1Sb1Fo33oLocGV-Gvcvl57cf9KzJMDuqXUv21J8pgrNmJ0cQyd3cg0L40suW0EZMnew6C6oI2efFk-YVLwqP04_b_KNf2TTFu5XGCGs2i8UAkfp9VkgYCE2rb/s400/IndiaBeginning.2+028.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p>Like a cow challenging your route to the market. </o:p></span><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:85%;">So from January 3-29<sup>th</sup>, as many of you know, I stayed at a guest house in Gurgaon, one of <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Delhi</st1:place></st1:city>’s major suburbs. I work from roughly 9 a.m.-5:30 p.m. every day. While at the guest house, I arose at about 7:30 a.m. and hoped that I had 1) hot water in the shower, and 2) water pressure. There is a switch to warm the water, but it didn’t always work and my guest house’s water tank was out of water occasionally so the pressure wasn’t always there either. The guest house then called a taxi to pick me up and take me to work, which cost around $5. Depending on traffic it usually took 15-25 minutes to get to work.</span><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5029917114906876338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilsfhQsbsTrkZNgCiXqyLZ1K7IK3c_fQj0kPldQWlGeIR1xGsaEitZtEVvknB7IGIT6MLZaaprpcRJZuDaaPuRKsreKJhuu8cDT3bNAEv_FIWg7M4Dnqrm8OAPWaa_Brlqy1beqbyZ10Fp/s400/IndiaBeginning.2+017.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:85%;">At CII, I work in a corner with four desks. I lucked out and have one of the desks next to the window and we’re on the non-sun side of the building, which I think will be nice once it starts to heat up. Lunch is a little different here than back at home. Lunch is at a specific time, 1-1:30 p.m., and there is a cafeteria where everyone eats together. Lunch is available for 30 Rps. (appx. 70 cents) and for that you receive a full tray of an assortment of foods (it’s always vegetarian and usually includes rice, some type of paneer [sauce you put on top of rice, there are many types], a side of a cooked veggie dish, raita [a cold, sweet “liquidy” dish], salad [no lettuce, just cut up veggies] and a dessert [I like them, not every one does, different consistencies, very sweet]). During the day, there is always tea and coffee available. There are hired staff that do everything from collect tea and coffee cups, photocopy for you, and collect the garbages. There is a lot of bureaucracy that I’m learning to work through. Some of it drives me crazy (“We’ve always done it this way”) and some of it is just me adjusting to an organization with 800 employees from one that had eight.</span><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:85%;">If I was heading back to the guest house at the end of the day, they would call a cab to pick me up from work. If I was going to <st1:city st="on">Delhi</st1:city> after work or during the day, CII’s Gurgaon office has vans that drive to their two <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Delhi</st1:place></st1:city> offices five times a day and I could catch a ride with one of them. </span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="georgia"><span style="font-size:85%;">My guest house provided food when I wanted to pay for it and it was very good. As for laundry, I did it in my room, either washing the clothes in the sink or shower with me and hanging them to dry. There are also local people who will iron your clothes (although they always come back folded in a plastic bag for transport). I have had lots of time to read; something I knew would be the case and excited me about my trip. I finished <i>The World is Flat </i>by Thomas Friedman and <i>Blink</i> by Malcolm Gladwell. I’m now on to <i>The Castle </i>by Franz Kafka, the Czech novelist who wrote <i>The Unbearable Lightness of Being</i>, and just finished<i> The Shade of Swords</i> by M. J. Akbar, which gives an incredibly thorough history of Islam and examines its relationship with Christianity over the past 1300+ years. If you’ve ever thought, “Why does this conflict persist? Why can't they make peace?”, this book provides some insight into why that is so incredibly difficult and complicated.</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p>Outside of that, and I’m sure you are all waiting impatiently to hear about Indian cable TV, well it almost always has some American movie, TV show, or cricket match on to pass the time </span>:)<span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"><br /></p></div>Rhino Overseashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13250341604413176420noreply@blogger.com3