Don't let the bed bugs bite!

So we have decided to go back to India.  What can we say, we are simply addicted.  Given the choice between spending the summer in Montreal, looking for windows, electricians, foundation cracks and mould resistant paint versus going to India, we chose the less practical route and went to India.  The new house will still be there in September. It's difficult to say WHY exactly we are addicted. While debating whether or not to come to India, we reminisced about all the things we missed about it. While trying to let practicality reign, we also came up with a list of all the things we weren't as fond of. Neither list was short, but we will share some of the highlights with you.

 We will start with the smells.  For everyone, India is an olfactory adventure, it's just that not everyone likes it. Landing in Mumbai, your nose is hit by the undeniable presence of the world's largest slum. We don't want to know what exactly it is, but for us this smell says "welcome to Mumbai". What we dearly missed is the way the streets smell when you go out for your breakfast first thing in the morning - a combination of incense, cooking fires and great food,  with dark undertones of open sewage, rotting banana leaves and diesel fumes.  It a unique mix, and believe us, we really did miss it. 

The other thing we missed was "slow travel" India-style.  Getting on a ramshackle bus together with eighty other people for a five-hour ride that covers about seventy kilometers.  It may not be the most efficient way of traveling, but it's a great experience.  Hawkers selling delicious snacks and drinks keep going on and off the bus, complete strangers become your best friends and everyone always cooperates in order to squeeze just one more person (and their belongings) into the over-crowded vehicle.

India is full of surprises, and the unexpected always seems to happen to willing travelers. Usually this ends up being fun, or at least makes a good story, but sometimes it can be downright annoying. Case in question:  when stepping out into the streets of Mumbai on our first day we were amazed at how quiet the place was.  Streets that are normally traffic-congested were bare and devoid of a single psychotic taxi driver, all the shops and restaurants closed and barred, and not a single street vendor to be seen. After much debate about which day of the week it really was (the result of  jet-lag and a flight that spanned 3 calendar days) we realized that something was up. After reading the local paper, we learned that there was a general strike, organized by the opposition, to protest fuel hikes and inflation. Wary of Shiv Sena activists, most Mumbaikars chose to spend the day either at home or at a nearby hill station, rather than risk going to work.

Another thing with which we have a love/hate relationship is  hotels.  A mandatory feature is a ceiling fan that whirs like a helicopter, keeping you cool at night but often seeming about to fly off it's moorings. On one hand, hotels can be cheap and cheerful, relatively clean and run by very friendly people who give you good advice on local sights. On the other hand, if you get the wrong bed, you might end up being the feast for the resident bed-bugs and fleas, who are more than happy to have you stop by! On our first morning in India, Boaz was welcomed with an armful and a legful of tiny little bites that itched like anything. When confronted with the problem, hotel management sent a "boy" (who was actually a fully grown man of 40) armed with a large canister of isecticide to fight the little vermin. Despite half a bottle of nasty chemicals, the next morning was worse, prompting us to leave before spending another night there!

Kim has spent the last couple of months learning Marathi in her spare time. As her spare time was somewhat limited, her Marathi is somewhat basic, but still endlessly entertaining for the locals.  "Mi marathi shikte" (I am learning Marathi) is her usual opening phrase, followed by "madji marathi tsangala nahi ahe" (my Marathi isn't very good).  This never fails to reward her  with huge smiles, free cups of chai, bindis, bangles and new friends.  We spent our 8-hour train ride from Mumbai to Aurangabad making friends with a very sweet 12-year old girl and her parents, who proudly passed Kim's Marathi notebook around the whole car, drawing in a crowd gawking at the miracle of a Marathi-speaking gora (foreigner). If you are a tall, blonde woman, the downside to spending a long train ride with a 12 year old girl is that you are treated like an over sized doll. After everyone had done "mehendi" to one another with a ball point pen, tried on each other's jewellery, and had their nails painted a ghastly sparkly pink, we told a blatant untruth and claimed not to have any make-up with us...

For those anxious about our whereabouts, we are currently in Aurangabad (Maharashtra), exploring the world heritage sites of Ajanta and Ellora in the rain. Cave temples figure prominently on our "like" list, and it's a perfect pass time for a rainy afternoon. Today, we heard that there was a weekly market in town and asked our hotel owners for directions. They told us that we were mistaken, this was not "our kind of market" and would feature a plethora of colourful people from the surrounding villages, selling vegetables, livestock, kitchen wares and street snacks. What we should do instead was go to a different Bazaar, which was for "lavish" people (such as ourselves) where we could buy mobile phones, Benetton sweaters, and eat pizza. Guess which one we chose....you can see the photos on picasa.