When I thought that everything basically was going to be nice and peaceful...

I was at a internet cafe in the Colaba area, where the terror attacks happened. I needed to go to the internet cafe to print out my bus tickets to Goa. I decided to go to this one since I had problems printing out at the internet cafe down the street from my hostel. I had also told people and friends on internet that things were calm right now. But only a minute from coming out of the cafe I heard heavy gunfire from the Taj Mahal hotel. .. and then an explosion, then some more gunfire... and another explosion. The Hotel is just a hundred meters or so from the internet cafe, and you can see it well. But there are lower buildings in between.

They had extended the road blocks further than before... and after the shootings people started to back off, but went back again. Towards the end of my stay down in Colaba they extended the road blocks (for civilians) so that the Taj was out of view almost completely. One could only see the top of the taller one of the buildings (that one had been secured I was told). Irritated policemen were backing of curious crowds with bamboo sticks. Not hitting, just waving them.

I reported again to the Swedish newspaper and once again my info got published. With a more serious photo of me this time. I even got interviewed by an Indian TV channel (NBTV) ....surrounded by a tight ring of 50 curious Indians. That was actually a little intimidating ...and I tried not to think about the crowd listening to me (...or maybe they were just enchanted by the TV-camera?). I tried to give some honest and smart answers. I was also interviewed by a Korean newspaper reporter.

Then there were rumours that there were shootings again in other parts of town... and people were worried, but it seemed to be false, because when I was by the CST station the police drove around saying in their speakers not to listen to the rumours and continue s usual.

Well... I am on my way to Goa now. ..and hopefully I will actually get there.

http://www.aftonbladet.se/nyheter/article3874281.ab

Towards the end of this crazy day...

Well... it's heading towards the end of this crazy day. I stayed around the area of Hotel Taj Mahal larger parts of the remaining day. Still not sure why, other than the desire to actually be there and witness the whole thing. There were periods of heavy gun shooting, crushing of glass, bombs or grenades exploding (at one point the crowd went down on their knees when one of the explosions felt extra serious. But it wasn't that bad of a threat really ... I think), and more fire from the main building. I think the fire has become under control, even if it was still smoking.

I overheard that the terrorists had high tech weapons, and that the bombay police didn't really know what was going on in there (I guess it's the military or some commando squad operating inside). There were snipers on the roofs of some buildings.
I wasn't amused or excited during the shooting, I just couldn't. I pictured that it could be hostages that got shot, or some of the forces trying to rescue the hostages. Towards the end I could see how some person was signaling with one type of flashlight from the window. Later the light from that room was switched on and off a few times. A little later I could see three people standing in the room next to it. Not sure if it was the terrorists, some hostages, or the attack force.

I did actually report to A Swedish newspaper from the Taj during the day. I had called them last night, for some reason ...or maybe a reflex since I have a smaller background in media ... and since I was here in Bombay, I felt that I wanted to contribute something. We didn't have much newsworthy to come with at first. But outside the Taj I texted them letting them know what was going on. I was then called up by a reporter from the paper and I told him what I've seen and experienced, and answered some questions.
I already got responses from friends back home being surprised by seeing me on the internet news.

I have so many more thoughts running through my mind right now... but at the moment they are only fragments, too complicated, and too many to describe in words at the moment.

I am leaving Bombay over the weekend. I planned to do it even before all this happened, but now it's even more well needed.

I pray and hope for the best for the remaining hostages. ..and my heart goes to the families that have lost a loved one.

Death has rarely felt so real to me, as it has done now.

Down in Colaba where alot of it happened...

No work today since the office was closed. But I didn't want to hide in my hostel, so I decided to to go down to some of the areas where the terror acts happened. I wanted to witness it... and I knew some people that usually hang out there so I felt that I needed to go down there... I had other reasons too, that I quiet can't explain. We were advised to stay at our hostel, especially since Westerners have been targeted especially Americans and Brits, but once again ... I just couldn't do it.

I had read the newspaper in the morning, and seen photos taken from the CST station of dead people laying in puddles of blood (with the faces blurred so that they couldn't be recognized).
When I walked in the CST station in the morning, it looked like everything was back to normal. The trains came and left, and people walked around. The only difference was that there where a little less people, and the guards where more armed. ..but nothing really that clearly gave a sign of what just happened the night before.

McDonald's across the street from there was closed. I met an Englishman outside. He had just come to town last night, and left CST just minutes before the shootings started. I told him that Americans and Brits were especially targeted, and decided to maybe just get out of town.

The streets in general where a lot calmer, and the closer you got to Colaba, the more stores were closed. I have never seen Bombay like this. It's eerie.

I came to Leopold's ...my favorite joint in the area (but where I haven't been too much lately, but where I pass almost daily). The metal "drapes" were pulled down, as everywhere else. There were bullet holes here and there, and a shoe left in the street, and even some blood. One could look inside if you stepped up a little bit. I did do, and saw how there were plates with food and beer bottles left on the table .. left untouched from the time the terror acts happened last night. There plates and bottles on the floor too. People walked and looked around in curiosity. Couldn't figure out why some of them were smiling. I met a couple middle aged Canadian women that had left Leopold's just half an hour before it happened.

I was happy to see that my taxi driver friend from Kashmir was safe. He came to me when I stood outside Leopold's and was happy to see that I was okay. Since I have been here for a while, I have gotten to know some of the local people on these streets, and he was one of them. He witnessed the shootings last night, and he told me about what he saw. I could tell that he was heavily affected but it. He told me that there where two men with automatic weapons that started to shoot at everybody in the path. One was shooting towards Leopold's and the other was shooting towards the United Colors of Bennetton store across the street and also the Muslim restaurant next to it. Not sure if the restaurant was still open or not. My friend told me about an long haired Australian guy who sat at Leopold's that didn't stand a chance.

Then a crowd of people gathered around an ambulance that stopped around the corner. They pulled out the body of a young father that had been killed to his home on the first floor. He worked in the Pharmacy on the other side the street from there, where I occasionally bought things. The screams and the cries from his wife could be heard on street outside ..and it ripped inside me like razor blades.

I went to the Taj Mahal hotel too... just a few hundred meters from here. I guess they are still holding hostages there. Dead bodies have been taken out a few times, and ambulances are leaving the area at a regular basis, ether carrying dead or wounded people. There are a lot of media people there, and other crowds of curious people.

I am sitting in a internet cafe a few meters from Leopold's. They are one of the very very few open places in the area.

There are many policemen and soldiers on the streets.

I am heading back out now, I don't feel like leaving the area now... I'll go back to the area around Taj Mahal.

Terror attacks here in Bombay... 80 dead so far.

Late last night I was informed by Sebastian that there had been some shootings outside Leopold's down in Colaba, and that 11 people had been injured. He found that out from a friend and wanted to make sure that I was okay. A co-worker also called to make sure that we were okay, and that we should stay inside. I was in a strange mood and didn't know how to react. It felt weird and unreal. I continued to read "Shantaram" and came to the part where the main character's friends had been shot to death (by the police because he was a terror suspect), and how the main character went to Leopold's after finding out about it. It felt bizarre to read it.

Then I got a text message from Sebastian telling that it was a terror attack on the Taj Mahal hotel, the CST station and some other place, and that 80 people had died and 250 people were injured. I had fallen asleep by then but woke up by the text message. I decided to call my parents to make sure that they knew that I was okay. They were happy to hear that I was okay and gave me some more news from TV. Then I called my brother to see if he knew more about it, but he hadn't heard anything about it at all. I called my good friend Tommy and his wife checked out the news on internet while he talking to me, and then he read it out loud to me.
The terrorists had targeted foreigners, and Americans and Brits in particular. One of the areas attacked was really close to where we work, and we pass the areas every day. The same with the CST Station, we pass it every day on our way to and from Work. ..and we have taken the train from there numerous times.

I was far from danger and I am safe. I have only heard more sirens than normally, and other than that I haven't noticed anything. I live a 5 minute taxi ride from the CST station, and 15 minutes from the Colaba area. But it feels so strange and unreal... I have had these thoughts of a terror attack happening while I was here ... even earlier the same day. But that was probably because this city has a history of terror attacks, and that's why it was in the back of my head.

They say that the Indian army has been sent in because it was still unsafe. I am not sure if I should go to work in the morning or not. A big part of me is drawn to the area, and I want to see what's going on, and if there's anything I can do. One part of me wants to stay safe since being a Westerner on the streets right now is not the ideal situation.

I am sitting here in Sebastian's room borrowing his computer and extremely slow internet.


I still can't believe it...

I'll update my blog about any news... when possible.

A visit to oldest red-light district in Bombay, and the largest in Asia.

Went on another field visit through the Tata Institute of Social Sciences. This time we visited the Prerana organisation that has as a main goal to educate kids in the red-light districts, and taking care of them in other ways too. They for example aid the police in rescuing or shifting kids to Observation Homes. They work in the Kamathipura area in Byculla, which is the oldest red-light district in India, and the biggest in Asia. It is actually not too far from why I live (not really knowing where the borders to the area goes).

It was probably one of the most interesting field visits so far. I didn’t see too much of the prostitution in the parts of the streets that we walked in, but it might have been because it was in the middle of the day. But the atmosphere and the area felt way different from the other areas of Bombay that I have been in. Not sure in what way, other than it might have been me just knowing that it was a red-light district, and that once again I walked in an area where very, very few white people seem to visit.

We learned many interesting facts. There are very many brothels in the area, and they are very organized. In a building, the bottom floor could be a metal shop, the second floor a floor a brothel, and the third maybe something else. Some could house more than one brothel. Some areas have a special type of women in their area, for example Nepali women.
Most women come for economical reasons, because they feel that they have no other means to make money. Others are fooled in to marrying some scum bag man in some other place and then sell her here, and then he goes off to marry someone else and do the same to her.

There are the eunuchs … that are men that might be castrated, born with not fully developed genitals, or are hermaphrodites. They feel like women, wear makeup, and are dressed like women with saris and flowers in their long dark hair. They act like women when they are sexually exploited by men. We passed one of the areas where some of them lived.
They are even called the “Hijras”, and I have run in to them before onboard the local trains, where they walk around clapping their hands, pet the men on the head, and ask for money. Some give them money out of superstition that the Hijras would put a curse on them otherwise.

There is a myth going on among many people that prostitutes get a lot of money. First of all, many of them maybe get 30, 40, or 50 rupees per customer ...and on top of that they need to pay rent to the brothel for using a bed, both, or room. Then they need to pay for the food, their manager, and their pimp, so in the end they only get to keep around 20 percent. Even the street prostitutes have to pay money to a pimp or someone else. Sure, there are some prostitutes that do get paid a lot more, but it doesn’t make it more right, and they are in a minority.

Many sex workers used to die early because of HIV, tuberculosis or other reasons.

The children of the sex workers have been drugged and also been exposed to what is going on inside the brothels. The Prerana organisation and other NOG:s (Non Government Organisations) has night care centres for the children - partially in order to prevent them from being exposed to this destructive environment as much as possible.

Back to my previous thoughts that I had last week about the prostitutes that I pass from time to time in my neighbourhood – I talked to the woman that worked for the Prerana about it. She agreed that a smile probably would be taken the wrong way. Just talking to them, even if the language barrier wasn’t an issue, would still be bad, even if I did it as a social worker. People walking by would just see a white man talk to prostitutes and come to wrong conclusions and thus harm the work in the long run. In fact, according to the Prerana worker, people would just not understand why I would talk to a prostitute if I don’t want sex with her. They would ask me “Why do you talk to her?”

I’m not sure yet that I will be able to, but at the moment I would like to go back to the area at night time and see how the life of the neighbourhood is then, but also see the Prerana at work with the kids. I don’t know how safe it would be for a white person to walk around there at night time, especially if I go back by myself. But I am seriously considering it. I have stepped out from my sheltered life multiple times while in India, but I need to do it even more before going back. I have very strong feelings against prostitution, especially trafficking, but it is an area that I really know too little about …less knowing what I can do.

Fighting the prostitution here will be very, very hard as long as people find 100 excuses to defend prostitution, and as long as the myriad of pathetic, false, incompetent, and corrupted Indian politicians shows a complete lack of interest in doing anything about it.

It is a sick world that we live in. It’s just not India…. the sickness is everywhere.

Day trip to Alibaug - an other nice break from Bombay

I have less than a month left now here in India. It feels pretty weird. I still have this love-hate feelings towards Bombay almost every day.
..and every time I leave Bombay I get these happy feelings.

This past week has had its ups and downs, in many ways. One of the ups was yesterday, when I, Sebastian, and two cool girls from Switzerland - Katja and Julia, went on a day trip to Alibaug. They recently arrived to Bombay and are here for research through their university in Geneva, and the TATA institute of Social Sciences here. We took a small ferry from the Gateway of India, and traveled further south down the coast to Mandwa, and then bus to Alibaug.
It was a really nice break from Bombay. We took a horse cart over to the Kolaba Fort (has nothing to do with Colaba in Bombay)during low tide. The fort was pretty okay, but not that amusing compared to other things that I have visited here in India. As always there was an entrance fee, and as always foreigners had to pay a whole lot more. I don't really like that idea. I don't think it's respectful towards the people that are visiting their country.

Anyway, we all shared an auto rickshaw to a different beach after that. It was an interesting ride. Towards the end the driver made a sharp turn while he was speeding, and the rickshaw lifted a bit. We thought that it would almost turn over and we would crash... but we made it fortunately. The driver thought it was funny and laughed a little bit afterward. ...we did not tip him.

Katja and I decided to take a little swim. I'm not sure how safe and sanitary the water was, since Bombay wasn't too far away. But we did it anyway. I had such a craving for a swim in the ocean, and I didn't want to wait until Goa to do it.
The water was warm and nice, but not very deep. So I had to keep it simple. ..so "swim" would probably not be the correct word, but rather sitting down and bathe in the ocean.
I felt refreshed afterward ...and so far I haven't gotten any skin problems ... and my stomach seems to be doing okay. But who knows... maybe I have some type of worm colony being built somewhere in my body?



28 days...

The life in Byculla - The peeing wall, Edward Scissorhands and prostitutes

I have lived in Byculla (part of Bombay) for maybe two months now... and I will stay here for the rest of my stay here. It's okay, I like it here. I'm able to partake of the real Bombay here, and not just the touristy parts of Colaba and the Fort Area. It does feel like home here now. Not in the way that I would like to stay here for the rest of my life. No way. But the feeling of having a place and room of my own, in a way, where I can relax and kick back, even if it's just temporary.

But what is it like here?

There is a rich diversity among the people that live here. Most of the people here are Hindus, ... of various castes and professions. You can tell by the music and partying or by the fireworks if there's a Hindu festival going on.
But there are also many various types of Muslims here. Many of the men look similar with their white caps and long white robes though, even though many wear western clothes too. The women are often wearing black clothing, and it's pretty common they cover everything but their eyes and hands. Then there are the Bori Muslim women that look like urban versions of the Amish, but with more colourful variations, ...the dresses come in pink, light blue, light green, yellow, and orange, and doesn't cover the faces or all the hair.

I really don't have the greatest social life here. The place where I stay at, Seva Niketan, is a men only hostel, so no women to get to know or keep company with ...and the only real place to hang out in this neighbourhood is a ... men only restaurant. So nothing there ether.
Well, I have gotten to know Vincent, a young French guy that will work in Bombay for a year, and who also lives at Seva Niketan. It has been refreshing to hang out with him and two Indian guys, when possible.

Other people that i have gotten to know is my new barber, Daslim. I abandoned my old one for this one. his barbershop is just up the street, plus he's a better barber. looking at him trim my hair is like watching Edward Scissorhands in action, and when shaving me it's like a painter working on his masterpiece, where his blade is his brush. He has even taken a cigarette brake and a tea pause "in between sessions." So far I haven't gotten the image of Sweeney Todd (ironically also played by Johnny Depp) ...well, those images do pop from time to time. But I try to push them away.

I guess I do some shorter small talk with "Zia" and Dalha and the other young fellas working at the local internet cafe.

One place I pass every time I walk to work, and even every time I go to the internet cafe down the street, or walk to the Bombay Central train station, is the "peeing wall". It's a wall next to a sidewalk that someone decided to be an unofficial place of relief for men that need to pee. It's hard not to notice, even if no one is peeing there at the moment. It stinks really bad, and even if the area around is dry, that part of the sidewalk remains wet, having its lakes of male urine.. running down the sidewalk in to rivers and creeks. I walk around that part of the sidewalk.

At day and nighttime, there is a man that sells boiled eggs just a few meters from the peeing wall. Why in the world he chose that spot is a mystery. Maybe it's because no cars park next to that wall, and thus giving him more open space? Maybe the stench keeps him awake? Maybe the local people tend to have craving for egg after a good moment of peeing?

Crossing the street at night time feels like playing with death sometimes. With all that firework of honking horns and blinding headlights and crazy driving.
After walking home the last part one late night, when I was ill and very dizzy, I was thankful that I made it home alright. At times I could be on the other side of a street and not remember crossing the street, and at times I realized that I just crossed the street without even looking because my head was floating somewhere else.

The streets are obviously very, very alive. In some areas they have long, long streets full of street markets selling everything you can imagine. I haven't really taken the time yet to discover it in too much depth yet.

But in all honesty... after having lived in Bombay for almost three months now, I have to say that what was exotic and exiting has in many ways lost its charm. It feels a little like the same old same old now, and even though I do get reminded every day about the living conditions that people have, and it still affects me, I have at the same time been partially accustomed to passing beggars. Not that I really ignore them ..but, I don't know. I still feel helpless. Giving them money is just the easy answer to a bigger and more complex problem.

One thing that hit me emotionally earlier this week though, was when I passed some prostitutes standing against a wall, on my way to the City Centre mall. I have felt sorry for them every time I have passed them, but this time it was even worse when i saw how young some of them were. They didn't look older than 15-16 years old. I felt so helpless. I wanted to do something, but didn't have a clue what. A simple smile could be mistaken for an invite or something else. I couldn't talk to them - even if I spoke their language or they English - what would I say? Would a simple "hello" also be mistaken for an invite? They stand there, not meeting the eyes of the people passing by. Often they don't say anything ether, other than once or twice when I didn't understand what they said.

The streets of Bombay, from under the Sir J.J. Bridge to Colaba.

I have started to walk to work some of the mornings. Partially to save money and not take the taxi every morning (since I hate taking the bus here), partially to get some exercise and lose more weight, and partially to experience the early morning life of Bombay.

I start out around 8 am and have about a 50 minute walk ahead of me. I have to say, that the street life at that time of the day, even though it's a whole lot calmer compared to day and night time, still is rich with impressions and things that makes one think about a lot of things.

Every time that I have walked down the streets, I have past over 100 people sleeping on the streets ..mostly men, but also women and children ..and whole families. That is not counting the people on the other side of the street. ....and it's not including the people that already have woken up by then. They sleep directly on the streets, on blankets, or on the street stalls that some of them use to sell their goods on during the day. many of them live, breath, eat, and work on the streets - all day long, every day of the week.

I see families eating breakfast together on the street. People are washing themselves with soap and buckets of water on the curbs, or brushing their teeth. Women are washing clothes by the sidewalk. Women with surgical masks are picking and collecting garbage in carts. other garbage pickers wearing the dirtiest of clothes carry large white sacks of garbage that they have collected, and walk around like zombies, or like they were high on something ...maybe it's just fatigue or lack of nourishment?

Rats, still the small cat sized ones, are crossing the side walk. Three men sit in a circle and take heavy drugs together. Others are taking their morning hashish by themselves. Others stick to simple chai in the morning (Indian tea).

I pass trucks that are loaded with cages full of chicken that are crammed together. Four, five, six chicken are bundled together alive and weighed on a scale before being sold. Crows are feasting on some of the slaughtered chicken that lay by the trucks. ..and feathers are everywhere.

Since this is a coastal town, there are many fish markets, even on my stretch of land... unfortunately.. but it's that long .. fortunately. But even here crows are feasting on the leftovers from the fish.

An elderly woman is pulling a midsized cart with an elderly man with crippled legs and stumps instead of hands. I see even more people, in small carts on wheels, used by people with deformed legs ...or no legs at all. One of them was rolling along and between cars stopping for traffic begging for money. When the traffic started again he rolled to the side, and waited for the next opportunity.

The various types of street stalls are slowly starting to open and getting ready for the new day's business ..with usually the newsstands being the first ones to be ready.
The stalls selling pirated books are also pretty fast getting ready in the mornings. ..and of course the various stalls offering people breakfast or morning snack.

In my area many of the people are wearing traditional clothes, but the closer I get to Colaba, the more modern and westernized the clothes get in general. People working in the downtown businesses and banks and and for the court are wearing shirts or suits. Sometimes it feel like I just passed a period of 50 years in those 50 minutes. The contrast can feel that big from the beginning of my journey to the end. The fact that most taxis and buses here could be from the 50's adds to that feeling. ...and the fact that a lot of the "modern" fashion here looks like it's from the 70's.

I have only walked all the way back home twice since I came here to Byculla. That has been such a contrast to the mornings. So hectic, so chaotic, so crowded .. and a whole different story.

Ether way, I am so grateful for the the good things I do have in life, including things that I have taken for granted. Seeing how people are living their lives on the streets, and how hard some people have to work to be able to work for their livelihood, have made me think again about how I use my time. ..and sometimes made me ashamed of some of the things that I have wasted it on ..and the times when I just have been far too lazy and spoiled.

Homesick

Yeah... since I came back from my journeys I have felt more homesick than ever. For various reasons. I am tired of the constant hot weather here, and all the crammed spaces. I HATE traveling by local train here, and I avoid the buses as much as I can. The traffic here in it's various forms here gives me anxieties.
I'm also homesick because I feel that I am in less control of things and issues that has to do with my life back home. Things that has to do with my future.
I'm homesick because I miss all the things from home, that I don't have here. ..and it gets pretty darn lonely here.

But still I'm not ready to go home. I want to finish up the things that I came here for ..and actually enjoy the time I have here and take advantage of it. I have grown a lot since I got here ..and I feel that I will come home as the improved and updated version of Janne.

There are things that I truly enjoy here. I enjoy doing follow visits to families that have adopted children, and see how the children are doing. I enjoy doing my weekly visits to "my" two little children that are in foster care and do their progress reports. I enjoy most of the visits to the slum communities and dealing with the wonderful people there, even if I sometimes just tag along as an observer. I enjoy the few calm moments at my room at the hostel or at some restaurant or cafe. ..and I do still really like the people at work, TISS, and at Church. They have made the whole experience so much easier.

I love the growth and the learning I get here, and the thought provoking experiences. I might not have gotten all the answers.. and I might still feel helpless about some of the problems around me .. and realized how complex things really are ... I understand that the solution to the problems here isn't to be found in easy and naive answers ...but I have gotten more direction .. and and an even stronger urge to do something at least.

Oh by the way, on a more shallow note ... I have lost about 9 kilos so far since I came to India. I hope to lose even more. I'm doing a lot more walking... plus I have lost a lot of my appetite for the food here, and food in general, so I'm not eating as much anymore.

The Pink City: Flashing holy men, snake charmers, and peanut begging monkeys.

The train ride to Jaipur from Udaipur was even shakier than the one on the way down. So the way I described that ride would better fit on this ride.
I took a taxi to my hotel and took it a little easy for a while. I agreed to having a taxi tour of the city by Sameer, the taxi driver who drove me from the train station. He seemed like a nice guy and I got a good price. Very good price. I ate, showered, and took a short nap before being picked up by Sameer.

I have to say that I was quiet satisfied with the tour, and what we covered during that time. Well... maybe I spent a little too much time shopping ..again. One of the things was a handmade carpet made out of camel hair. A nice smaller mat (that I had shipped home). I even got a little tour of the various processes of the carpet making by some dude there ...and of course I had to tip him (as with almost everything and everyone in this country). I won't list the other things that I bought. But at least it wasn't as much as in Udaipur.

Sameer took me to various sights around Jaipur, even called the "Pink City" because of the pinkish painted Old Town. The Old Town was really nice, but at the same time not really as cool as I imagined. ...but on the other hand I didn't spend as much time there ether. Maybe if I had walked around more.

Some sights were really interesting, others were so and so (especially since I saw cooler versions of them in Udaipur). I really, really liked the big sand coloured fort in Amber, a little north of Jaipur. As I went out of the car in order to take some photos, a snake charmer run in front of me and opened his basket and started to play on his traditional snake charmer flute. There was a real live cobra in that basket... somewhat passive though. It was soooo touristy and so cliche, but at the same time it was exciting to finally have seen a real snake charmer, and be able to take photo of it. I ignored the fact that the poor snake ether had its teeth pulled out, or had its mouth sown partially together in order to prevent it from giving a deadly bite. I later found out that snake charming is illegal too. I did pose with him though, holding my own snake (not a cobra though). Now afterward, I regret that I didn't pet that poor cobra. I mean, it would have been safe and all (I think).

As I stepped in to the car, some strange guru dude stood outside my car window and mumbled something.. then, suddenly, he just pulled down his loin cloth and showed me his pierced genital with something wrapped around it. I had no interest in looking further so Sameer drove away. He told me later that the man said "You don't think that I am a holy man? I'll show you that I am a holy man!" The pierced genital part had to do with some self mortification or self suffering thing. I try not to visualize that experience again too much. Yuuuuck! The fort visit was nice though ...other than dealing with a persistent young salesman trying to sell a poor quality turban to me on the way up to the fort ..and on the way down.

The next really cool visit was to Galta, The Temple of the Sun God, even called the Monkey Temple. The temple itself was so and so, and the view was nice, but the really cool and bizarre thing was the trip up the mountain on the way to the temple. I passed an other snake charmer... that spanked his cobra and wanted me to take a photo. The snake obviously didn't like to be spanked. I declined and went on. I passed beggar families that seemed to be living along the path up. I passed other types of interesting people that I haven't seen too much elsewhere yet. I passed cows that were friendlier than I was used to... and then I came to the parts were the monkeys were ... maybe hundred plus of them spread out. They liked to show up there at dusk. I had bought a bag of peanuts that I gave to the monkeys that were brave enough to take them from my hand. That was a really fun experience... getting so close to the monkeys.

Sameer and I ended the day at a roof top restaurant of a hotel. The food was delicious.

The next day Sameer was supposed to take me on a tour far up north, some some villages and small towns in the Shekhawati region. But instead of Sameer, a friend of his, Vishnu, showed up. Sameer was persuaded by his family to attend a wedding. It might have, or might not have, been true. But there I was, ready for the tour. The trip turned out to be a lot further away than expected, but it was pretty cool. Not spectacular, but cool. It was nice to travel through the countryside of savanna like Northern Rajasthan. We visited the towns of Nawalgarh and Mandawa, but also the driver's home village Palsana on the way up, and on the way down.
Vishnu didn't speak English that well unfortunately, so that limited our communication and all the questions that I had. Good thing that he was playing some cool Rajasthani music with some nice beats on the car stereo. It would have been an awkward silence otherwise.

It was Diwali by the way, the big Hindu holiday (like Christmas), so on the way back I was invited over for dinner at his house, before heading back to Jaipur. I accepted the invitation. He had a huge family, and many of his younger brothers were really curious about me. ..and some of the sisters, but they hid somewhere in the background. It was a really friendly family. I liked them. I sensed that I would get problems in my stomach from the food though... being home made in a village. But what the heck.
After the dinner, Vishnu and one of his older his older brothers sat down and took a joint of some Indian grass together. The offered me one too, but I declined of course. I was surprised that they smoked with their younger brothers around them. But I guess that's how their culture is. Sad.

The Diwali celebrations were still going on in Jaipur, with fireworks and fire crackers. Young children were playing with very loud fire crackers, the type that most likely would e illegal in most Western European countries. I didn't feel safe walking the streets so I stayed at the hotel.
I didn't sleep well that night because of all the noise, plus that I had to get up early in the morning in order to catch my flight back to Bombay.

Well... I arrived to Bombay... and while sitting in the taxi from the airport, I got my worst case of homesickness so far ...and I wasn't too happy about being back in claustrophobic Bombay.