This Post Has Few Photos & A Lot of Vomit. Hooray!

Sorry for the delay in this section. But we've been sort of dreading posting it, because it starts out kind of unpleasant and without any fun photos and then gets reeeeally long and barfy. Don't all of those things sound just dreadful?

Well, it's too late to turn back now! You've already clicked on our link and the page has loaded and there's nothing you can do about it! Hahahahahaha!

(sorry.)

CHAPTER 4: The Nepalese Plague

When we had said our regretful goodbyes to Rishikesh but looking forward to our journey to Nepal, we hopped in a cab to make the hour trip back to the Haridwar Train Station. We made sure to leave ourselves just over an hour of extra time to find our train and seating assignments.

This cab was less frenzied than the others and we were able to enjoy some of the in-between scenery. Several of the road bridges were in heavily wooded areas with beautiful rushing streams going underneath us. Gorgeous. As Mary was admiring one such stream she got a bit of a shock...There was a man, floating along backward with the fast current, arms spread wide with a giant smile on his face. And she thought, "Well, there you go. The people really are EVERYWHERE."

And she made her peace with it.

When we reached the Haridwar Train station, we went in to check on our train seats and discovered that the oft late Poggies had managed to show up THREE HOURS ahead of our departure. We weren't quite sure what to do with ourselves, and Haridwar is a bit rough, so we parked ourselves in the sun next to the Shiva monument. Basically, we were the only white-skinned people and we were on super display.

At one point, Mike watched as a college-age guy walked nervously near us and hung a towel over the railing that surrounded the statue and then giggled his way up to his six buddies. We were pretty used to this kind of thing by now. It was school holiday in India and many Southern Indians had come North for vacation. And a lot of them had never seen a white person before.

We were often asked to pose for photos with embarrassed wives, excited grandparents or entire families. And, occasionally, were handed horrified babies.

(this is not at the train station)

Mary- being the whitest person ON the planet- was the most popular.

So when two of the college kids eventually came up to talk to us, we weren't very surprised. It soon became clear that they were sent to test the waters, and the other five eventually came running over to hear noise come out of those glowing white faces.

Well, one glowing white face and one brownish-white face.

We chatted for a while and they suggested that we camp out in a building designated as the train station waiting room. Happy for a reprieve from the blazing sun, we went over to check it out. The moment we walked inside, we were swarmed by begging hands and sorrowful eyes. It was heart breaking, but also, unfortunately, potentially dangerous, so we decided to wait outside in the shade. We stood against a half wall so that Mike could rest the pack on it without taking it off of his back.

That's when we were approached by a woman.

"Hello, will you sign my petition?" she asked, thrusting a piece of paper into our hands.

We looked at it and saw that it was basically a list of names with an amount of donated money next to it. She told us that she and her family needed our money and that we must help them. As she continued to tell us her sad story, Mary caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned around in alarm and standing there against the wall, with less than an inch of space between us, was a man who appeared to be about 6'5" and who looked very angry as he stared down at us.

"Oh! Hello!" said Mary with a startled laugh, expecting a greeting back.

He just glared. Angrily.

The woman said, "I do not know that man." She continued her spiel.

And that's when our wonder twin psychic intuition kicked in. There was NO WAY we were taking out our wallets. We told her that we were sorry and that we had given the last of our cash to our taxi driver. Her jaw tightened and she turned to Mary.

"Well, then, give me your clothes."

"My clothes?"

"Yes. If you do not have money for me, then I will have your clothes."

Yeeeeah. We, again, decided not to make ourselves vulnerable by digging through our things and turned her down. They stood there staring at us for a bit until, finally, she looked at the man and they both walked away. We decided to take our chances in the sun.

There were other encounters. Such as a woman that demanded that we let her take our photo in front of Shiva for 50 rupees. When we declined her offer, she grabbed Mary's hand with her fingernails, dug in and began to pull her away from Mike. Mary told her "no" again, yanked her hand away and the woman brought her own hand back as though to strike. But then the man traveling with her raised his hand against the woman and she hissed at us and walked away. Not exactly a satisfying outcome.

And then there were the men that gabbed on and on to us in Hindi (perfectly friendly if confusing) as another man inched closer and closer to Mike's pack. Eventually one of our college kid friends came up and shooed the pack incher away. There also was a man dressed as a Hindu deity wheeling himself about and begging (Eddie Murphy in Trading Places-style, if that makes sense) that approached us when we weren't paying attention and grabbed Mary's bare ankle. That poor man got a nice show of just how easily startled Mary can be. Oops.

There were other encounters that were much more painful than concerning, but we'll get to that later. We feel it is important to say this, however: We had done our research and knew how to protect ourselves from any real danger but, honestly, this was actually pretty tame, danger-wise. And this was the only time we felt uncomfortable in this way. So if you are planning on traveling to India or having an opinion about it, don't let this story thwart you or make you feel negatively about it. It was a mere three hours in the span of two weeks.

It should also be mentioned that formerly scaredy-pants Michael was cool as a cucumber throughout the entire thing. He might not have felt it, but here was nary a hint of the Disney Princess that day. He kept a smile on his face and his voice steady. 60 million points for THAT guy.

At last, exhausted, dehydrated and feeling...How do you describe this? Traumatized? Shell shocked? Ashamed of the abundance in which we had lived our lives? Angry that our fear was stronger than our empathy?...feeling changed, we boarded our train.

Mike made quick friends with our seat mate--an Indian engineer-- as Mary's head suddenly began to swim. And her stomach began to lurch. When his train buddy got up to use the facilities, Mike leaned over to her with a concerned face.

"Something's wrong," she told him. "Just say a little prayer that I don't hurl on this damn train."

We arrived in Delhi, sans hurling, at about 10:30pm and began the search for our pick-up driver. When we couldn't find him, we negotiated a ride with two drivers that swore to us they knew where our hotel was.

They didn't. By the time we arrived at our hotel, it was past midnight. We were mentally and physically exhausted and filthy...And Mary was fighting the urge to pass out, weep and vomit. Simultaneously.

The man that escorted us to our room didn't quite grasp this, however, and kept trying to get us to order things.

"You want beer? I bring you beer. How many you like?"

"No, no. We're just really tired and want to go to bed, thanks."

"Okay. So I bring you dinner. You look at this menu and I bring you dinner."

"No, my wife is not feeling well and we have to get up in a few hours. Can we please just get some bottles of water?"

"Okay, yes. And then, maybe in an hour, you order some dinner and beer, okay?"

He brought the water, Mary took one sip and...well, she didn't keep it down. She projectile didn't keep it down. For a long time. We set our alarm for 4am and crawled miserably into bed.

At about 1am, Mike got up and ran to the bathroom to vomit.

Somehow we managed to drag ourselves out of bed the next morning and get ourselves to the airport. And, oh geez, the security--if you thought American airport security measures were laborious, India will blow your mind. And standing in line that long while you feel like you might be mutating into some sort of gelatinous monster is the opposite of a good time.

The flight to Nepal was short and the Air India staff was lovely, and we were just happy to be able to close our eyes and slump. We did perk up for a moment when we flew over Mount Everest and then silently screamed at our bodies, as we involuntarily slipped back into our coma, "But it's Mount Everest! You can't fall asleep when Mount Freaking Everest is visible! What is wrong with you?!?!? Stay awake! Stay awake! Stay a...zzzzzzzzzzz..."

When we arrived at our hotel, the Kathmandu Prince Guest House, we were greeted by the manager who was eager to help us set up some excursions. We arranged to have someone take us out to a rural area at sunset so that we could see something besides the city and told him we would consider the plane ride over the mountains for the next morning (that we were even considering such a thing should show you how sick Cheapie and Cheapo were feeling).

We went upstairs to take a recovery nap in our room (with the non-functioning A/C) and realized very quickly that leaving the hotel room would be incredibly poor decision making. So we canceled our sunset ride and spent our first day in Kathmandu like this:

Note the pathetic but hopeful cuddling of the guide book.

We did eventually get our A/C going (so long as the generator was working) and, just after the sun went down, the sky burst into a wonderful cooling rain. We stood at the balcony door for a minute and watched as it drenched the darkened streets of a city we had yet to see. Then these sickly Poggies dragged our tired bodies back to bed and went to sleep, saying a prayer that no more days in this magical place would be wasted...

(Spoiler Alert: They weren't. See?)

Next up: The Final Chapter: Kathmandu & Agra OR "No, We Do Not Want Your Streetfight/Marijuana/Sex"

"Shut Up About India Already!" "No."

Oh, hi, it's us again. I know, it's weird, right? After this post we'll break up the "We Went on the Shortest Trip to India Ever and For Some Reason Have Sixty Million Things to Say About It" Posts with some actual project stuff. Which-- Hey!-- is the reason for this weblog that you see here today. And there are plenty. Because even though we were COMPLETELY absent for 8 months, we were doing all kinds of nonsense and documenting the crap out of it.

Juuuust not sharing them with you, the four people that care. And, by the way, bless the four of you FOR caring. We know it's not easy.

Anyway, onto the next chapter...

Chapter 2: Delhi OR Michael: Nervous & Uncomfortable.

Even though we were in Delhi for the shortest amount of time (well, except Agra, I guess) it had the greatest impact on us. So we have a lot to say about it. This might be a good time to have coffee and feed the cat. Because it's a long post. Don't worry, it'll still be here when you get back.

So, like I said before, we arrived in Delhi. The airport was pretty mundane and we found our dude with the pick-up sign right away. And he showed us that just because the painted lines on the road SAY there should only be three lanes of traffic, that doesn't mean there can't always be six!!

In this super exciting ride, we saw a lot of Delhi that wasn't very pretty. And some that was just straight up sad. So poor Mike was whisked away to a foreign land, put into a car that I am sure his motion-sickness prone tummy considered to be it's worst nightmare (sans seat belts, of course) and shown a way of life that he cannot even begin to comprehend. At night. In 80,000 degree heat.

That's Fahrenheit.

When we reached our street--which was so tiny we were a bit concerned the car might not be able to travel down it-- you could almost hear Mike's stomach drop. It was very late at night and we were met with sickly dogs roaming about, people sleeping on the side of the street and trash and filth everywhere you looked. We weren't in Kansas anymore.

Seriously. Because we're from Kansas. And it's really nice there. Idyllic, really. So that's actually an apt statement.

Anyway, this is about the time we came up with a term to properly describe the look Mike had plastered on his face for the first few days: A Frightened Disney Princess in Distress. He had the down sloping eyebrows, the big, watery eyes, the slightly quivering lip. Plus, he's pretty like a princess.

Admit it: even you kind of want to steal his wallet, don't you?

Mary assured him that he'd feel better in the morning, so we set up our net, took a hose and bucket shower and settled in for sleep ("Hey, what are those brown bugs? Are they bed bugs?" "No, bed bugs are much smaller. Those are like little beetles or something.").

The next morning brought a strange realization: Human Garbage Disposal and his wife, Hungry Every Four Minutes, HAD NO APPETITE. A good percentage of the reason why we even embarked on this journey was for the food and, yet, when we settled in to our breakfast spot, we found that we had no interest in the delicious things on the menu. But we figured that we were just still adjusting and let it go.

So, as Mike enjoyed his breakfast of Coke and Mary force fed herself a piece of toast, Mike confessed how uncomfortable and terrified he was and Mary assured him that as soon as they left the block and started exploring he'd feel much better. So off they went, down the street and took a right.

And up comes a little tuk-tuk driver. "Hello, where are you going?"

"No, no. We don't need a ride. We want to walk."

"Okay, yes, but if you go that way, you will find a bad place. This is a very bad place for you. Please do not go there."

Oops.

So we negotiated a little ride from the guy to a good place, but not before he insisted on taking us by the government tourist office, because he thought we should have a map. This is about the time that Mike started thinking he should have married this nice young Bengali man instead of Mary, who is clearly trying to get him internationally murdered.

When we got to the office, the tourism guy, of course, laughed at us for attempting an India trip for such a short amount of time and offered to set up all of our transportation (we had lost many a reservation with the last minute visa mishap--blech) so as to maximize our time in the country. Mary was sure he was up to something, despite that he was wrangling prices cheaper than an outsider could manage, so he threw in a free tour of Delhi to calm her irrational paranoia. Yeah, good luck with THAT, tourism man.

So, it was goodbye to the tuk-tuk driver and hello to the taxi driver. His car had air conditioning and so we offered to let him live with us in the US. He should be arriving in a couple of weeks.

He told us his name would be too hard for us to pronounce but, because it rhymed, that we could just call him "Guru." And then said, "But I am not your teacher! Ahahahahahahahahaha!" He repeated this every time Mary tried to get his ACTUAL name.

Guru drove us around the city for a bit and we saw many painful but also amazing things. And wires. Guru was very excited to point out the telephone and electrical wires that drooped between the buildings. We acted excited for his sake. We really saw so many beautiful things that day that made Michael not want to cry on the bathroom floor.

...Such as this incredibly old and beautiful mosque, where we were taken on an unofficial tour by a mute man trying to make a buck. Yes, it was a rip and, yes, he was taking advantage of our whitey whiteness, but he REALLY got a lot across about that place considering he couldn't speak.

This is also where we had our first sock-you-in-the-gut moment. But more on that another time.

We saw the amazing Indira Gandhi Memorial Gardens, which, despite Michael's absurdly sweaty head (seriously, dude, save some for your armpits like your smelly, smelly wife), made our hearts a bit lighter for the first time.

There were beautiful families having beautiful picnics under trees and young couples holding hands and sharing secret laughs (we, meanwhile, were saying things to each other like, "Why are you touching me?? Can't you see how hot I am?!")...

...and, of course, such lovely monuments to the very idea of leading with compassion and courage.

We also went to the Lodhi Gardens, where Guru informed us that young lovers visit to sit and kiss. He said that he could not go in because he was single and all of that kissing would upset him. And then he laughed maniacally. And asked if Mike's sister was single.

That garden was more like the public parks that we were used to back home. Kids running about, sports being played, people just enjoying the day together (and we totally spied some kissing youngsters). The big difference was that there were also mausoleums and temples and ancient beauty everywhere. And a guy that tried to sell us his lunch.

And India Gate! We saw India Gate! See?

We went to Huyaman's Tomb, which Guru said was almost as wonderful as the Taj Majal. And, wow, it was amazing. We spent probably 2 hours just walking around and gasping.

In this area that you see below, there were people living up until the early 20th century, which, when you stepped inside the walls, somehow felt about a million years ago.

Seriously. Look at this. It's so beautiful that I want to grind it into a paste and put it between two slices of bread and eat it. And it would be very delicious.

And these are normal emotions, so stop judging me.

Then we came to the main building and it was...Okay, listen, we Poggies are kind of trampy for beautiful old buildings against beautiful old nature. Sure, we love nature against just nature more but, dangit, LOOK at this!

And this!

Delight.

Guru gave us an option of either touring a Hindu temple or a Sikh temple. Since Mary had spent some time learning about the wonderful world of Krishna and since our next destination, Rishikesh, is mostly of Hindu influence, we took this opportunity to check out the Sikh temple. And, as it turned out, Guru himself was Sikh, so he took us on a personal tour. We first stopped and dropped off our shoes at the visitors office and received our head coverings, then washed our hands at a small fountain before making our way to this gorgeous site:

We couldn't take photos inside, but I can tell you that it was remarkable. So many wonderful colors and at the center of it all was a shrine where devotees came to worship and give offerings. Guru invited us to sit with the praying folk, and we were happy to have a moment to sit in silence and take it all in. We are always so humbled by the spiritual devotion of others and it was wonderful to be in the presence of it.

Did that sound corny? It did, didn't it? Eh, what can you do.

Afterward, Guru offered us some "Holy Sweet." Mary, who is slowly going deaf (also, insane), didn't hear him, took a 50/50 shot and accidentally turned it down. Mike accepted and said it was tasty. It was a sugary substance of some kind, hence the name. He also took us to the pools where people bathe before going into the temple so that they don't enter unclean. It was really quite lovely.

Look at these nerds, trying to fit in.

Nice try, nerds.

Guru also took us down to the kitchens, where workers prepare food for anyone who wants to come and have a meal.

There were giant machine churning out roti bread and gigantic pots simmering with deliciousness. He showed us the big empty room where, later that evening, people would gather and take part is this free feast. Awesome.

Soon it was time to say goodbye to our buddy Guru. He dropped us at our hotel and gave us very strict instructions about staying safe in India and not getting scammed. He told us that we were his friends and that he did not want people taking advantage of our white faces. He was VERY concerned about our white faces.

At this point we realized that, save for a mango popsicle, we had not eaten all day long and, famished, we staggered into a restaurant. We ordered delicious entrees, a tasty appetizer of fried veggies and, of course, extra naan with garlic. The food arrived, our stomachs screamed with joy, and we dug in...and were COMPLETELY FULL after two bites. TWO! Not even a large two bites. If we hadn't just spent the day sweating out all of our bodily fluids, we would have burst into tears.

The next morning we woke at 5am to begin our walk to the train station. Our street was just beginning to wake up as we walked through and we tried to keep from disturbing those without a proper place to sleep as we made our way across walkways made of splintered boards and enormous puddles of trash and waste. It was the only time of our trip that we saw a cat--and we wished that we hadn't. Mike said later that he also wished we'd been able to respectfully photograph that journey, because it was the most jarring and memorable fifteen minutes of the entire trip.

We made it to the train station without incident and then standing there, like a random beacon of light, as we pushed through the arriving crowd, was Guru, holding up a sign for his next tourist charge. We shook hands, he wished us a happy adventure, and we went our seperate ways.

To be continued...

...?

(probably.)

Umm...Hi? We went to India?

Sooo...It's been 8 months. We're ready to blog again.

INDIA! We will jump back in to weblog world with a SUPER post (read: long and boring) about our recent experience in India. It was only two weeks, but it was still quite an adventure, so we're probably going to spread it out among posts that are more than one. If there end up being more than one. We'll see.

Chapter 1: India: Getting There, Dammit

We went to the India during the last week of May and the first week of June. It was Mary's second International adventure and Mike's first so, while she was raring to go, we had to baby-step it a bit for the delightfully cautious Michael.

The carefully planned and researched trip was to include five or six days in Rishikesh, India, and four or five full days in Pohkara/Kathmandu, Nepal.

Ah, hilarious.

So, we arrived at the airport, our belongings pared down to only one impressive pack and our separate small carry-on bags, and gave the woman at the counter our passports to scan. We were ready to take on the world!!

“And your visas? Do you have your visas?”

We looked at each other. Then at her. “Visas? Ummmmmmm…”

That was when Betty Eagle of Continental (that was her name. Betty Eagle. Faaaantastic.) informed us that we would NOT be going to India that day. Now, Mary, as some of you may know, is quite well known for her calm demeanor in the face of chaos. She’s FAMOUS for it, in fact. So this in no way incited tears, tantrums, panic-attacks or vicious swearing of any kind.

Yes, but on a serious note, Betty Eagle lived up to the majesty of her name and did all kinds of things that her managers would likely frown upon to make sure that this glitch was relatively painless and somewhat inexpensive. In the end, we only lost a couple of days and we only spent the money that we had been saving to go bungee jumping to buy return tickets.

…Oh yeah, Mike's Mom: We were going to go bungee jumping in Nepal. But we weren't going to tell you about it until we had successfully not died. Wasn't that sweet of us?

Anyway, we discovered that in order to get our visas, we would have to show up in person at the India consulate's office for our territory. Which was in San Francisco. California. So we hopped in a rental car and high tailed it the 12 hours up there.

...Can I just say that if we had lived in Hawaii and had the same trouble, we would have been way more screwed.

So take THAT, tropical paradise! Your morons are more inconvenienced than the morons that live on the mainland when it comes to International travel specifically involving India! Cry into your Spam, Hawaii.

In our defense: it is a common thing to receive your visa upon entering a country. It was that way for Peru and Nepal and every country Mike's globe-trotting parents have been to. So, when Mike was making travel arrangements, he reasonably was under the impression that India would be the same way. And, when we got there, dual-citizenship people were being forced to renounce their Indian citizenship in order to apply for a visa due to new Indian stipulations, so I get the feeling that India is just all sorts of wackadoodle.

Anyway, we left four days late and arrived in Delhi on a Tuesday night and were promptly whisked away to our guest house, Cottage Yes Please--popular for its proximity to the train station and probably also for its super fun name. Here's our mosquito net fort, meant to save us from all things buggy:

Which worked, as long as "all things buggy" doesn't include "bed bugs." We weren't really sure that's what they were at first and we spent our two nights there adorably calling them "Blood Suckery Guys." I think that's a little something called Self Preservation. We refused to acknowledge them for what they were until we were home. Of course, it’s been about a month and Mary’s still talking in her sleep about Bed Bugs.

She misses the false security of the net.

Good times.

Next up: Delhi. And Tales of Michael: Nervous & Uncomfortable.

To Be Continued...And: Agua!

...We haven't disappeared again. We swear. We just have been working on so many projects that we haven't had time to finish any in particular, let alone post about them.

But here are some teaser photos:

Some are old, some are new, some are currently a total disaster. Either way, we're working on it. And when we have something a little more substantial to share, we promise that we will...We're thinking November 1st might be a good day...

Emphasis on might.

Oh! Also! While you wait-- with baited breath, I'm sure-- you can check out this super-duper great etsy shop filled with other people's projects...that are much less self-serving than ours:

It's called "Water4Christmas" and it is raising money to build clean-water wells in Africa. More than four thousand children die every day due to a lack of clean water, and a group of crafty ladies have donated their time and art to raise money for this cause, so go and take a look!

Plus, their stuff is craaaaazy cute.

Ugmo.

We hate the way this page looks.

(...as you can see by the banner photo...)

So don't be alarmed at any and/or all strange changes you may see on here.

It's all in the name of evolution...Or mutation.

We'll see.

Update:

This was the photo:

And we're fairly happy with it for now, so please refrain from agreeing with us that it looks like hateable crap.

Thank you.

Accidents: Both Happy & Fixed

So we were unintentionally growing sunflowers in our yard. It's mostly because Szechaun really likes to watch birds. See, we thought if we sprinkled some sunflower seeds on the back patio, it would make for a more interesting show.

It didn't work. Stupid birds.

Anyway, in the progression of this experiment, some of the seeds inadvertantly got into the yard (see also: swept there out of laziness) and, soon, began to sprout like crazy. We scooped some sprouts up back in March and stuck them in a pot and waited.

A couple of months later, we got this:

Hooray! Hopefully they don't get burnt to a crisp by the Arizona sun. Mike's dad tried planting some while he was here and they, well, they're no longer with us. But if these go south, it's really okay:

They just keep on sprouting in the yard randomly. We keep the seeds in the birdbath now. Szechaun's got good eyes. She can handle it.

Oh! And as for the "Fixed Accident": You can now comment. Apparently, when we were setting this thing up, we accidentally put on a privacy setting.

Sorry about that.