favorites #7

favorite photos #7

Two of our hotel waiters having a siesta



Boys outside a temple in Varanasi



Women selling flowers



The average street in Varanasi





Sikh (I think) guy shaving

favorite photos #6

Varanasi, India.
People bathing in the Ganges in the early morning. The sacred-dip sits fine with me. But why they bathe in the Ganges to get clean, I'll never know.



Mysterious door in Varanasi. Very mysterious how there's no garbage in front of it. I think it's boarded up.



I got dangerously close to this monkey and her acrobatic child on our hotel terrace.



Bus photo



Varanasi grandma surrounded by saffron orange, a sacred color. Only Indians look good in saffron orange. Did you know saffron comes from the stigma of the Saffron Crocus?!!

Favorite photos #5

We had to walk on irrigation canals past rice paddies on our 18km hike up a mountain.







The view was almost worth my sprained knee. There was a temple at the top, and a guy cooked us Ramen noodles. Best Ramen noodles I've ever tasted.

favorite photos #4

Justin getting a henna tattoo from what was the nicest, least in-your-face seller-of-wares in India. Didn't even attempt to drape me in jewelry.



Palolem, the first village we stayed in, seemed blessedly more interested in the maritime industries than the tourist ones.



Bullshit



Artsy fartsy photo I took near a Portuguese fort. The Portuguese colonized Goa. There are a lot of catholic churches in Goa.



Illegally swimming in the Arabian Sea. Nobody really seemed bothered by this. Our waiter told us that white people can swim better than Indian people. I'm guessing more white people drown in riptides than Indian people.

favorite photos #3

Brahmins and other folks in a temple in Goa. I desecrated it, I guess, because I was on my...eh... No wonder our karma went so sour.



A hookah bar where Jeremy had a severe case of ghost-face



A pretty picture of the bride in her noose of jasmine. Oh, dear. My feelings about marriage are leaking into my blog.



Dwiju and Eric pouring rice into the fire (no idea why)



Rachael floating in Goa

favorite photos #2

Two of a bazillion clothing changes in the space of a couple days



Bangle partay!!!



Little girl getting henna



Groom covered in turmeric (he had to sleep in it (don't know if he did, though))

favorite photos #1

Demon on a Shiva temple



The Jain priest who blessed us (for a small fee)



Bus photo



Bus photo––guy plowing with oxen



Lion on a Vishnu (I think) temple

Getting fitted for a sari blouse. Our host family had been using this tailor for, uh––20 years, I think. The shop was tiny. Almost every shop had an image of Ganesha (of the elephant-head) above the door. Ganesha is a second-tier god, I think (I think a lot), but he was easily the most ubiquitous of all of them. Bringer of luck, remover of obstacles, really likes his sweets.



Good for re-hydration after 'loose motions'



Picking fabric for sari blouses and petticoats



Sipping tiny cups of chai (this stuff was really awesome, more milk and sugar than chai, and it tasted like every household had their own blend of spices)



family help sifting rice (I think)

Our apartment in Bangalore.

I loved this place. Loved the mattresses on the floor––three squished together so you could roll around all night with your girlfriends, the water shutting off at odd times, the bucket in the bathroom serving its dual purpose of shower cleaner and puke-receptor, the strangers walking into the room where Rachael and I were sleeping to invite us outside for food, because the front door was cracked open and someone in our apartment complex was getting married. Personal space is a western phenomenon.

The school kids were cuuute. I thought I was being obnoxious, taking photos of people I didn't know, but Indians everywhere seemed to love it. You pull out your camera and they smile and pose, especially when they have little children. Notice the auto-rickshaw in the corner, giving everyone allergies and premature wrinkles.

Bangalore, India.

This was my first 'you're in India' moment.
I thought it strange that the Silicon Valley of India should have such an antipathy towards garbage cans. Funny thing is, every morning the shopkeeps and vendors religiously swept their stoops and little patches of street, and the insides of houses were immaculate. We left our sandals outside.

A few weeks later I was throwing plastic bags out the car window, and I stopped wondering where my curd was coming from. Michael Pollan would have a cow.