Quite a few people asked me "why 666".
What 666 is: 666 is an abundant number. It is the sum of the first 36 natural numbers (i.e. 1 + 2 + 3... + 34 + 35 + 36 = 666), and thus a triangular number. Since 36 is both square and triangular, 666 is the sixth number of the form n2(n2 + 1) /2 (triangular squares) and the eighth number of the form n(n + 1)(n2 + n + 2) /8 (doubly triangular numbers.)
666 is the sum of the squares of the first seven prime numbers (i.e. 22 + 32 + 52 + 72 + 112 + 132 + 172 = 666).
The Roman numeral representation of the number 666 (DCLXVI) uses once each the Roman numeral symbols with values under 1,000, occurring in descending order of their respective values.
What 666 is not: 666 is not the number of the beast. A newly discovered fragment of the oldest surviving copy of the New Testament indicates that, as far as the Antichrist goes, theologians, scholars, heavy metal groups, and television evangelists have got the wrong number. Instead of 666, it's actually the far less ominous 616. Google "616" and you'll find the details.
So, why 666? will you believe me if I said that David-1, David-2, ...., David-665 were all taken? I thought so :-( oh well, I didn't really check all of them. 666 just sounded catchy, and it helps deterring any superstitious people.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
India Travelog
I - Feb 5, 2007
I am on the beach (sort of), breaking my solemn promise not to touch the internet until I'm back - but hey, I did manage to stay 10 days offline, I think it's a good step forward (or maybe backward?).
The flights were long: BOS to LON to BOM. But when I finally got to Bombay and went into the terminal, the familiar smell of India suddenly hit me - 15 years later - and I had a big smile on my face. A lot has changed here since my last visit, but the smell of the city is the same - a combination of spices, heat, and the 20 million people who live there. "The best worst smell", as a book I'm reading (Shantaram – highly recommended!) describes it. For me it brought back fond memories.
Six hours at the airport, an hour flight to Panjim, 2 hours in a taxi to cover the 40 miles to my sister's place, and I finally met my family here - Orly (whose name here is Deva) and her charming and animated two years old daughter Luna. I completely forgot about not sleeping for the last 40 hours - it was so great to see them. Since then I am getting a lot of rest. I've spent the last week in Goa. Life is easy, hot, slow and fun. I spend most of the day on the beach, which is very relaxing - as long as you manage to deflect the steady line of local salespeople who, if they're kind, try to sell you saris, fruit, drums, necklaces or shirts, and if they're less kind, try to poke sticks in your ears and convince you they pulled a rock out of it. On the busy beaches you're stopped around once a minute; I try to go to more isolate locations. Still, I can't say no to a fresh pineapple or papaya, and I was tempted to buy an oversize drum for about double its market price - but who cares - I'm a tourist, I don't expect to pay "local price!".
Other than that, people are really nice, and Goa has a different feel than anywhere else in India. There are so many foreigners, the entire atmosphere is international rather than Indian. For instance, you can find within a few miles 3 gourmet French restaurants, a weekly designers market with hundreds of shops selling clothes from $1 shirts to $500 dresses, a nightly open-air disco, and alcohol everywhere. On the other hand, riding over the pot holes will remind you that you are still in the 3rd world - the infrastructure is still very bad and water, sewage, public transportation etc. are definitely in grave need of improvement. But things are still much better than what I remember from 15 years ago - there are cellphones everywhere, internet connections at every shack, and the food is much safer (hey, I haven't gotten sick yet!)
One thing that hasn't changed is that the place is flooded with Israelis. The one BIG improvement is that we're not considered the worse people here any more! Yes, we lost our Enemy of the Public #1 place to an influx of Russians, who scare the s**t out of people here. They come loaded (mafia money so I've heard), and either pay asking price for everything without haggling (which has the effect of doubling the price for everyone else), or don't pay at all (with some of these people, one look is enough to convince you not to argue). In comparison, Israelis seem kind and gentle, isn't that nice?
Besides the beach, I took a day trip to Old Goa, which was mildly interesting, and plan a longer 7-10 day trip into the central parts of India (Karnataka) - hopefully leaving on Thursday. I'm pretty excited about it. Beaches are great, but after a week on the beach it will be nice to do something else.
Don't be surprised if I return with a thick Indian accent... it seems that my English is deteriorating quickly here! I am healthy and happy otherwise, so I guess I can't complain too much :-)
II - Feb 12, 2007
I finally left Goa a few days ago - it was surprisingly difficult to leave behind the sunny beaches, pineapples and the party scene, but I wanted to see some more of India before I head back home. My first stop was Hampi, a few hundred miles west of Goa, in the state of Karnataka. Theoretically it’s a short 12 hours bus ride. In practice, 3 hours into the trip we were already 2 hours behind. We took a night bus that left at 7pm and was supposed to arrive the following morning. Around midnight it hit traffic jams, and we were in a standstill for the next 5-6 hours, together with other tourist buses, and about 17,000 trucks carrying mostly sand. It turns out that the road has two lanes, and the smallest disturbance (like a truck getting stuck - something that happens too often) - will stop traffic for miles in both directions. Eventually we arrived around 4pm - not too bad, considering that other travelers on the same route arrived 5 hours later. Still, a 22h bus ride with a baby is no fun.
Luckily, this is where our troubles ended. Hampi is one of the most amazing places in India, and I was totally surprised and taken by the place. Having been to India before, traveling extensively, I didn't expect to find such a gem. Geographically, it is located in a desert area where a river supplies an abundance of water. The entire region is covered with palm trees, banana plantations and rice fields. You can hear all day the trickling of water flooding the fields, and if that's not enough water for you, you can hike to the near dam and swim in a cool sweet-water lake. The other stunning feature of the place is the weird lunar-like geological formations, with boulders stuck up in impossible configurations. It's hard to explain - I hope you'll get a glimpse of it when I publish the pictures.
And then there are the temples and the remains of the ancient kingdom of Vijayanagar. Dozens of temples, colonnades, ornate palaces, bazaars, and even elephant stables, all dating from the 10th to 16th century. I've just returned from a long bike ride to the royal palace – it was hot, with a lot of steep inclines along the way (not too easy on a single-gear bike), and I ran out of water mid-way. There were no shops in the site, but luckily a friendly coconutwallah was available and I had my first taste of coconut juice. And then my second :-)
Most travelers spend their time more leisurely, enjoying the quiet atmosphere of the place. Westerners come here from all over India to relax in nature, hike, bike, have good food, and recharge. The guesthouse where I'm staying is a great place to do all of that. Speaking Hebrew is definitely a plus, as 80% of the people there (guests and staff alike) seem to speak the language. We try to spend at least half of the day just sitting outside in the lounge on the comfy mattresses, chatting with other travelers, ordering food (way too much since it's way too cheap and way too good!), reading, playing chess (4 games last night), or playing with Luna.
The most adventurous thing I've done so far was riding a motorcycle. Yeah, I know it doesn't sound so fierce, but it was my first time, the roads here are one big pot hole patched with cow manure, the bike I got was from hell, I ran out of gas after 5 minutes (the guy promised it had 1 liter - I guess he meant 1 milliliter), the keys fell from the bike while I was riding it and I had to backtrack in the wrong direction against traffic to find them, the lights didn't work (I found it out only when it got dark), and I didn't have glasses - meaning I had to bike through a thick layers of bugs and mosquitoes that insisted on getting into my eyes and mouth. In short, towards the end of the trip I was biking in the dark, with no lights, with my eyes closed - I feel pretty brave!
III - Feb 15th, 2007
It was difficult to leave Hampi, but I wanted to see a bit more of India before my return. Orly and Luna went back to Goa, and I headed south by myself. The way in and out of the village includes crossing a river on a tiny boat manned by kids, overcrowded with tourists and locals, and an occasional motorcycle. Crossing the river, I wondered once again how many Enfields and Hondas are rusting below my feet - the boats are not more than glorified buckets, and the poor biker needs to stand on his bike the entire way, hoping to make it against all odds.
My next stop was Bangalore. I took a night train, and woke up the following morning in the hi-tech capital of India. Personally, I didn't like the place too much - it's highly polluted, and the only reason I stopped there was my hope to get together with Paaras, a work pal who moved back to India to work for EMC here. Paaras was pretty enthusiastic about the meeting, but it didn't work out - the hi-tech area is too far from the center, the traffic is as hectic as any other big city in India, and the whole thing fell through. Plan B was to utilize the abundance of internet cafes to finally find a decent internet connection - my guidebook claims there are more than 700 of them in the city. I spent an hour looking for them . Found only 2, both non-working. This was pretty surprising, considering that every second hut in Hampi bazaar had an internet connection (on the right). After an excellent cup of Illy coffee (a rare experience in India) I took the train to Mysore, the ancient capital of the region and home of the Maharajah.
Oh, Mysore! The Maharajah palace! The scenic location of E. M. Forester's Passage to India! And my first hot shower in 2 weeks!! (Turns out that my new brownish color was not all tan after all.)
If you've ever watched a Hollywood oriental fantasy, you should have a pretty good idea of the palace. It's an extravagant and magnificent creation, straight from "1001 Nights", complete with an elephant chariot (80Kg of gold) and the Maharajah throne (280Kg of gold). The royal family stills lives there today, although they lost the battle to keep the palace and it belongs to the government now. Part of me wished they melted the gold and used it for something better - judging by the look of the state, there's not too much excess of resources to pay for all this extravagance. Still, for us tourists it's a one-in-a-lifetime experience to walk through the halls and feel like a king for one day (just don't forget to give a rupee to the armless beggar outside).
I also spent a couple of splendid hours in the market - one of the most colorful and photogenic I've seen, with abundance of flowers, sold by weight to street vendors who in turn sell it to pilgrims; spices (Mysore is a source of sandal wood); silk; and my favorite - piles of pineapples, watermelons and endless heaps of bananas.
Talking about pineapples, I love the food here. It's difficult not to indulge when you can get a fresh pineapple on the street for $0.20, then stop for a full vegetarian Thali meal for $0.75 (the Idli and Sambar are almost as good as Sarav's), get ice cream for $0.30, etc. etc. I'm eating like a pig, and the "India effect" of last time hasn't appeared yet - in my previous visit with Hagai 15 years ago we both got horribly sick and lost a lot of weight. So far I'm healthy, and if at all, I'll return a lazy fat bum.
Coming to think of it, 6 days from now I'm flying back to Boston - suddenly it looks so short! I keep running into travelers who’ve come here for 6-7 months or more... wish I could do it as well. Maybe next time...
IV - Feb 17th, 2007
It's 6am and Julie is crying helplessly. Her mom is dragging her from a baby, "no mom, please mom" she cries and shouts, returning occasionally to kiss the infant, who is being held by a nun. I think that it’s her baby and the father is this hunky bare chested guy she was fooling with around 5:30am. It's hard to tell what's going on - I'm sleepy, and Julie speaks mostly Kannada, switching to English when she gets excited. I'm relieved to see that poor Julie's mood is improving - now she's smiling, dancing and singing. Maybe she's not that heart broken after all.
I'm trying to doze off again, but the sound of the TV is overwhelming. Julie’s father is having another fit. I wake up and realize I'm still in the night bus, going from Shimoga to Sagar, two places of absolutely no interest to me except that they are on the way from Mysore, where I left you my dear readers, and my next destination - Jog falls. I make a mental note not to go ever again on a video-equipped bus, and prepare to take my 3rd bus tonight. I also make a mental note to avoid restaurants with free vomit bags - yes, this is what the menu cover promised in the last establishment I visited. I feel nauseated - was it the restaurant or the winding road combined with the on-the-edge drive-like-there-is-no-tomorrow attitude of our bus driver?
Mysore is not visited by a lot of westerners, but once I left it I was the only non-Indian on the bus. The four bus stations I visited today where all operated with the same method - drivers stand outside their buses, shouting the destinations. It's actually a good idea, considering many people (including myself) cannot read the signs (posted only in the local language). Problem is, when somebody shouts at you karnagokarnagokarnagokarnagokarnagokarna very rapidly, it's difficult to make out what he means, especially if your hearing (and other mental faculties) seem to have been permanently damaged by that damn video. Somehow I made all the connections on time, and 3 buses later arrived at the falls.
My guidebook says that the falls are pretty disappointing, but the scenery is great. Like many other things in this book, it's totally wrong - the falls are spectacular, a drop of 200m (the highest in India). The scenery is 1000 steps you need to go down and then climb for a close view. I'm joined by a group of college students - they're really sweet. We soon learn each other names - Rafiq, Sadiq, Kumar... seems to be a mixed group of Hindus and Muslims - nice to know they can get along together (what you read in the papers suggests this is not always the case.) We get a lot of pictures together, and I have 45 min to run back up the stairs to pick up my next bus.
* * *
On the bus from Jog Falls I take a seat in an empty row, but soon a young man gets on the bus and sits next to me. He smells as if he hasn't taken a shower since his Bar Mitzva, with a stench of concentrated sweat and cardamom. I stop breathing, then open the window next to me. A minute later he reaches his hand and closes it. I look at him questioningly, and he smiles and points his finger at a lady in a sari two rows ahead of us. She is coughing loudly, and indeed within a minute or so pokes her head out of the window and spits out a huge, yellowish ball of phlegm, flying straight to the window my friend has just shut, leaving a big oozy paddle. This was a close call.
* * *
One more bus and I’m on my way to the holy village of Gokarna. It is holy to 3 religions: Hindus, Buddhists - both have temples here, and Hippies, who flock to the sandy beaches. This weekend the atmosphere is definitely Hindu. It is Shivratri (Shiva's birthday), and thousands of people have come to celebrate it here. It's a great spectacle - the tiny village is packed with pilgrims, and the lines to the temples are huge. In fact, the lines wind along the narrow streets and eventually cover half the village. Many pilgrims go first to the beach to wash in the holy water before getting the priest's blessing (it's supposed to increase the power of the blessing, as is shaving your head.) One of the temples contains a pranalingam - a phallic sacred object, stolen from Shiva and retrieved by Ganesh, the beloved elephant-headed god. The entire story is depicted on the wall of a local restaurant, just in case you need it in a comics version. In any case, the lingam is considered to be so auspicious that even without washing in the sea, one look at it will pardon 100 sins, including murdering a Brahmin. Might come in handy, except that they don't let foreigners into the temples these days. I should be more careful with those Brahmins from now on.
Outside the temples I feel surrounded by pilgrims of all kinds - the rich, the poor, the very poor, priests, sadduhs, the beggars... many beggars line the streets sitting in front of a straw mat, and the occasional passerby throws rice onto the mats as charity. I wonder if the beggars later eat the rice or sell it. The sadduhs, on the other hand, take only cash.
* * *
Tonight is my last night in Gokarna, and I'm preparing to return to Goa tomorrow. Thank you for the many comments I got, and sorry I couldn't respond personally to all. Usually the opening line was "I'm so jealous"... don't be! India is not that far, and traveling here is so much fun and wonder. If I injected you with the travel bug, and if you went to check your vacation balance at work, then my job is done. Go get the "rough guide" to India, and start packing!
For more pictures, visit my website, at taalul.com. The pictures are in the 2007 album.
I am on the beach (sort of), breaking my solemn promise not to touch the internet until I'm back - but hey, I did manage to stay 10 days offline, I think it's a good step forward (or maybe backward?).
The flights were long: BOS to LON to BOM. But when I finally got to Bombay and went into the terminal, the familiar smell of India suddenly hit me - 15 years later - and I had a big smile on my face. A lot has changed here since my last visit, but the smell of the city is the same - a combination of spices, heat, and the 20 million people who live there. "The best worst smell", as a book I'm reading (Shantaram – highly recommended!) describes it. For me it brought back fond memories.
Six hours at the airport, an hour flight to Panjim, 2 hours in a taxi to cover the 40 miles to my sister's place, and I finally met my family here - Orly (whose name here is Deva) and her charming and animated two years old daughter Luna. I completely forgot about not sleeping for the last 40 hours - it was so great to see them. Since then I am getting a lot of rest. I've spent the last week in Goa. Life is easy, hot, slow and fun. I spend most of the day on the beach, which is very relaxing - as long as you manage to deflect the steady line of local salespeople who, if they're kind, try to sell you saris, fruit, drums, necklaces or shirts, and if they're less kind, try to poke sticks in your ears and convince you they pulled a rock out of it. On the busy beaches you're stopped around once a minute; I try to go to more isolate locations. Still, I can't say no to a fresh pineapple or papaya, and I was tempted to buy an oversize drum for about double its market price - but who cares - I'm a tourist, I don't expect to pay "local price!".
Other than that, people are really nice, and Goa has a different feel than anywhere else in India. There are so many foreigners, the entire atmosphere is international rather than Indian. For instance, you can find within a few miles 3 gourmet French restaurants, a weekly designers market with hundreds of shops selling clothes from $1 shirts to $500 dresses, a nightly open-air disco, and alcohol everywhere. On the other hand, riding over the pot holes will remind you that you are still in the 3rd world - the infrastructure is still very bad and water, sewage, public transportation etc. are definitely in grave need of improvement. But things are still much better than what I remember from 15 years ago - there are cellphones everywhere, internet connections at every shack, and the food is much safer (hey, I haven't gotten sick yet!)
One thing that hasn't changed is that the place is flooded with Israelis. The one BIG improvement is that we're not considered the worse people here any more! Yes, we lost our Enemy of the Public #1 place to an influx of Russians, who scare the s**t out of people here. They come loaded (mafia money so I've heard), and either pay asking price for everything without haggling (which has the effect of doubling the price for everyone else), or don't pay at all (with some of these people, one look is enough to convince you not to argue). In comparison, Israelis seem kind and gentle, isn't that nice?
Besides the beach, I took a day trip to Old Goa, which was mildly interesting, and plan a longer 7-10 day trip into the central parts of India (Karnataka) - hopefully leaving on Thursday. I'm pretty excited about it. Beaches are great, but after a week on the beach it will be nice to do something else.
Don't be surprised if I return with a thick Indian accent... it seems that my English is deteriorating quickly here! I am healthy and happy otherwise, so I guess I can't complain too much :-)
II - Feb 12, 2007
I finally left Goa a few days ago - it was surprisingly difficult to leave behind the sunny beaches, pineapples and the party scene, but I wanted to see some more of India before I head back home. My first stop was Hampi, a few hundred miles west of Goa, in the state of Karnataka. Theoretically it’s a short 12 hours bus ride. In practice, 3 hours into the trip we were already 2 hours behind. We took a night bus that left at 7pm and was supposed to arrive the following morning. Around midnight it hit traffic jams, and we were in a standstill for the next 5-6 hours, together with other tourist buses, and about 17,000 trucks carrying mostly sand. It turns out that the road has two lanes, and the smallest disturbance (like a truck getting stuck - something that happens too often) - will stop traffic for miles in both directions. Eventually we arrived around 4pm - not too bad, considering that other travelers on the same route arrived 5 hours later. Still, a 22h bus ride with a baby is no fun.
Luckily, this is where our troubles ended. Hampi is one of the most amazing places in India, and I was totally surprised and taken by the place. Having been to India before, traveling extensively, I didn't expect to find such a gem. Geographically, it is located in a desert area where a river supplies an abundance of water. The entire region is covered with palm trees, banana plantations and rice fields. You can hear all day the trickling of water flooding the fields, and if that's not enough water for you, you can hike to the near dam and swim in a cool sweet-water lake. The other stunning feature of the place is the weird lunar-like geological formations, with boulders stuck up in impossible configurations. It's hard to explain - I hope you'll get a glimpse of it when I publish the pictures.
And then there are the temples and the remains of the ancient kingdom of Vijayanagar. Dozens of temples, colonnades, ornate palaces, bazaars, and even elephant stables, all dating from the 10th to 16th century. I've just returned from a long bike ride to the royal palace – it was hot, with a lot of steep inclines along the way (not too easy on a single-gear bike), and I ran out of water mid-way. There were no shops in the site, but luckily a friendly coconutwallah was available and I had my first taste of coconut juice. And then my second :-)
Most travelers spend their time more leisurely, enjoying the quiet atmosphere of the place. Westerners come here from all over India to relax in nature, hike, bike, have good food, and recharge. The guesthouse where I'm staying is a great place to do all of that. Speaking Hebrew is definitely a plus, as 80% of the people there (guests and staff alike) seem to speak the language. We try to spend at least half of the day just sitting outside in the lounge on the comfy mattresses, chatting with other travelers, ordering food (way too much since it's way too cheap and way too good!), reading, playing chess (4 games last night), or playing with Luna.
The most adventurous thing I've done so far was riding a motorcycle. Yeah, I know it doesn't sound so fierce, but it was my first time, the roads here are one big pot hole patched with cow manure, the bike I got was from hell, I ran out of gas after 5 minutes (the guy promised it had 1 liter - I guess he meant 1 milliliter), the keys fell from the bike while I was riding it and I had to backtrack in the wrong direction against traffic to find them, the lights didn't work (I found it out only when it got dark), and I didn't have glasses - meaning I had to bike through a thick layers of bugs and mosquitoes that insisted on getting into my eyes and mouth. In short, towards the end of the trip I was biking in the dark, with no lights, with my eyes closed - I feel pretty brave!
III - Feb 15th, 2007
It was difficult to leave Hampi, but I wanted to see a bit more of India before my return. Orly and Luna went back to Goa, and I headed south by myself. The way in and out of the village includes crossing a river on a tiny boat manned by kids, overcrowded with tourists and locals, and an occasional motorcycle. Crossing the river, I wondered once again how many Enfields and Hondas are rusting below my feet - the boats are not more than glorified buckets, and the poor biker needs to stand on his bike the entire way, hoping to make it against all odds.
My next stop was Bangalore. I took a night train, and woke up the following morning in the hi-tech capital of India. Personally, I didn't like the place too much - it's highly polluted, and the only reason I stopped there was my hope to get together with Paaras, a work pal who moved back to India to work for EMC here. Paaras was pretty enthusiastic about the meeting, but it didn't work out - the hi-tech area is too far from the center, the traffic is as hectic as any other big city in India, and the whole thing fell through. Plan B was to utilize the abundance of internet cafes to finally find a decent internet connection - my guidebook claims there are more than 700 of them in the city. I spent an hour looking for them . Found only 2, both non-working. This was pretty surprising, considering that every second hut in Hampi bazaar had an internet connection (on the right). After an excellent cup of Illy coffee (a rare experience in India) I took the train to Mysore, the ancient capital of the region and home of the Maharajah.
Oh, Mysore! The Maharajah palace! The scenic location of E. M. Forester's Passage to India! And my first hot shower in 2 weeks!! (Turns out that my new brownish color was not all tan after all.)
If you've ever watched a Hollywood oriental fantasy, you should have a pretty good idea of the palace. It's an extravagant and magnificent creation, straight from "1001 Nights", complete with an elephant chariot (80Kg of gold) and the Maharajah throne (280Kg of gold). The royal family stills lives there today, although they lost the battle to keep the palace and it belongs to the government now. Part of me wished they melted the gold and used it for something better - judging by the look of the state, there's not too much excess of resources to pay for all this extravagance. Still, for us tourists it's a one-in-a-lifetime experience to walk through the halls and feel like a king for one day (just don't forget to give a rupee to the armless beggar outside).
I also spent a couple of splendid hours in the market - one of the most colorful and photogenic I've seen, with abundance of flowers, sold by weight to street vendors who in turn sell it to pilgrims; spices (Mysore is a source of sandal wood); silk; and my favorite - piles of pineapples, watermelons and endless heaps of bananas.
Talking about pineapples, I love the food here. It's difficult not to indulge when you can get a fresh pineapple on the street for $0.20, then stop for a full vegetarian Thali meal for $0.75 (the Idli and Sambar are almost as good as Sarav's), get ice cream for $0.30, etc. etc. I'm eating like a pig, and the "India effect" of last time hasn't appeared yet - in my previous visit with Hagai 15 years ago we both got horribly sick and lost a lot of weight. So far I'm healthy, and if at all, I'll return a lazy fat bum.
Coming to think of it, 6 days from now I'm flying back to Boston - suddenly it looks so short! I keep running into travelers who’ve come here for 6-7 months or more... wish I could do it as well. Maybe next time...
IV - Feb 17th, 2007
It's 6am and Julie is crying helplessly. Her mom is dragging her from a baby, "no mom, please mom" she cries and shouts, returning occasionally to kiss the infant, who is being held by a nun. I think that it’s her baby and the father is this hunky bare chested guy she was fooling with around 5:30am. It's hard to tell what's going on - I'm sleepy, and Julie speaks mostly Kannada, switching to English when she gets excited. I'm relieved to see that poor Julie's mood is improving - now she's smiling, dancing and singing. Maybe she's not that heart broken after all.
I'm trying to doze off again, but the sound of the TV is overwhelming. Julie’s father is having another fit. I wake up and realize I'm still in the night bus, going from Shimoga to Sagar, two places of absolutely no interest to me except that they are on the way from Mysore, where I left you my dear readers, and my next destination - Jog falls. I make a mental note not to go ever again on a video-equipped bus, and prepare to take my 3rd bus tonight. I also make a mental note to avoid restaurants with free vomit bags - yes, this is what the menu cover promised in the last establishment I visited. I feel nauseated - was it the restaurant or the winding road combined with the on-the-edge drive-like-there-is-no-tomorrow attitude of our bus driver?
Mysore is not visited by a lot of westerners, but once I left it I was the only non-Indian on the bus. The four bus stations I visited today where all operated with the same method - drivers stand outside their buses, shouting the destinations. It's actually a good idea, considering many people (including myself) cannot read the signs (posted only in the local language). Problem is, when somebody shouts at you karnagokarnagokarnagokarnagokarnagokarna very rapidly, it's difficult to make out what he means, especially if your hearing (and other mental faculties) seem to have been permanently damaged by that damn video. Somehow I made all the connections on time, and 3 buses later arrived at the falls.
My guidebook says that the falls are pretty disappointing, but the scenery is great. Like many other things in this book, it's totally wrong - the falls are spectacular, a drop of 200m (the highest in India). The scenery is 1000 steps you need to go down and then climb for a close view. I'm joined by a group of college students - they're really sweet. We soon learn each other names - Rafiq, Sadiq, Kumar... seems to be a mixed group of Hindus and Muslims - nice to know they can get along together (what you read in the papers suggests this is not always the case.) We get a lot of pictures together, and I have 45 min to run back up the stairs to pick up my next bus.
* * *
On the bus from Jog Falls I take a seat in an empty row, but soon a young man gets on the bus and sits next to me. He smells as if he hasn't taken a shower since his Bar Mitzva, with a stench of concentrated sweat and cardamom. I stop breathing, then open the window next to me. A minute later he reaches his hand and closes it. I look at him questioningly, and he smiles and points his finger at a lady in a sari two rows ahead of us. She is coughing loudly, and indeed within a minute or so pokes her head out of the window and spits out a huge, yellowish ball of phlegm, flying straight to the window my friend has just shut, leaving a big oozy paddle. This was a close call.
* * *
One more bus and I’m on my way to the holy village of Gokarna. It is holy to 3 religions: Hindus, Buddhists - both have temples here, and Hippies, who flock to the sandy beaches. This weekend the atmosphere is definitely Hindu. It is Shivratri (Shiva's birthday), and thousands of people have come to celebrate it here. It's a great spectacle - the tiny village is packed with pilgrims, and the lines to the temples are huge. In fact, the lines wind along the narrow streets and eventually cover half the village. Many pilgrims go first to the beach to wash in the holy water before getting the priest's blessing (it's supposed to increase the power of the blessing, as is shaving your head.) One of the temples contains a pranalingam - a phallic sacred object, stolen from Shiva and retrieved by Ganesh, the beloved elephant-headed god. The entire story is depicted on the wall of a local restaurant, just in case you need it in a comics version. In any case, the lingam is considered to be so auspicious that even without washing in the sea, one look at it will pardon 100 sins, including murdering a Brahmin. Might come in handy, except that they don't let foreigners into the temples these days. I should be more careful with those Brahmins from now on.
Outside the temples I feel surrounded by pilgrims of all kinds - the rich, the poor, the very poor, priests, sadduhs, the beggars... many beggars line the streets sitting in front of a straw mat, and the occasional passerby throws rice onto the mats as charity. I wonder if the beggars later eat the rice or sell it. The sadduhs, on the other hand, take only cash.
* * *
Tonight is my last night in Gokarna, and I'm preparing to return to Goa tomorrow. Thank you for the many comments I got, and sorry I couldn't respond personally to all. Usually the opening line was "I'm so jealous"... don't be! India is not that far, and traveling here is so much fun and wonder. If I injected you with the travel bug, and if you went to check your vacation balance at work, then my job is done. Go get the "rough guide" to India, and start packing!
For more pictures, visit my website, at taalul.com. The pictures are in the 2007 album.
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