tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86903938806293814762024-02-20T02:51:11.410+05:30INDIA!My year as an exchange student in India with Rotary Youth Exchange.Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-52185854498638213422011-04-29T11:09:00.001+05:302019-03-02T21:24:54.575+05:30Last Weekend's Wedding<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Last weekend I drove with my dad and another doctor from the city about 6 and a half hours to a wedding in Guna.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>We left around 11:30 on Saturday just as the hottest part of the day was starting which meant that sitting in the back where very little of the air conditioning every made it was little hard at times. I slept for most of the ride. Around 2 or 3 we stopped of lunch at one of the roadside "motels" that can be found scattered along almost every major road that goes through rural India. These stops originated in Punjab as a place for truck drivers to stop, rest, and eat in the heat of the day before continuing when it cooled down. There are woven rope beds for the drivers to sleep on and most of the stops still serve predominately Punjabi food. We had brought our own lunch from home and ordered hot daal and cold sodas as well.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>When we arrived at our destination we went in and made the proper greetings and paid the proper respects to our hosts, which included sitting down for a cup of chai of course. We then had a few hours to rest and get ready for the wedding reception which we arrived at around 8. I had my own room in our hotel which was amazing because I haven't had my own room in what feels like a really, really long time.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>We were only at this wedding for the reception but unlike when we go to wedding receptions in Indore, we didn't just come for dinner and leave. This time we arrived before the bride and groom and I stayed all the way to the ceremony at 3 in the morning.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The moment we had arrived at the reception area a man came up to me and asked if I was Kelsey. When I said yes he asked if I wanted to see Pragya- Pragya Dave who was my class teacher at Progressive. It turns out that he's her husband who is a very nice guy, it was fun to see him dance with Mrs. Dave. With my dad's permission he lead me up to the rooms where the wedding party was getting ready. Mrs. Dave was helping put the finishing touches on the bride's mother's outfit. It was really surprising and great for both of us. She was my favorite teacher at school and is very, very cool. I spent the rest of the evening with Mrs. Dave and her niece (on her husband's side). Mrs. Dave was sort of in charge of a lot of the bride's affair since she was the bride's "cousin-sister," the closest thing she had to a sister. While we were waiting for the bride to arrive at the reception we chatted and I was introduced to all of the bride's friends. Niki, the bride, had a close group of friends when she was in engineering school in Indore. The group consisted of about 10 engineers, only two others were girls, who had all since moved to different parts of the country. This was the first time in a while that they's all had a chance to get back together and you could tell that they were having a lot of fun, plus Niki is the first in their group to get married. I also learned that Mrs. Dave had resigned from school and now plans on being her husband's assistant. Mr. Dave is an astrologer which is a much bigger profession in India than it is in America. Astrology is very important to how you live your life.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The bride arrived to the reception under a canopy held up by her close friends and family. While waiting for the groom's party to arrive on horse back there was a lot of dancing and joking around with the bride. Mrs. Dave had once told me that she loved to dance and I could tell. She also made me dance with her and the bride's friends. It was a lot of fun. Even if I hadn't danced I couldn't help but have fun watching everyone else dance because they clearly were having a great time.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bride with her father and uncle under the canopy that she arrived to the reception under. Her mother is behind her father holding the canopy up.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My class teacher from Progressive, Mrs. Pragya Dave, dancing with the bride's friends waiting for the the groom's party to arrive.</td></tr>
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When the groom's party arrived instead of stopping dancing they just included the groom's mother in their circle. Pretty soon the entryway was blocked with people dancing from both sides. After a while is calmed down enough to allow the groom to actually enter. There were traditional welcomes for him and his family. During this point we went to sit down in front of the stage because all of our feet were beginning to ache. On the stage where the bride and groom would sit in a little bit there was a group of little kids playing. It reminded me of almost every wedding like function I've ever attended. The kids all seems to get along without really knowing each other and loud, potentially dangerous games usually insure. In this case, there were several times that I thought that the large light set on precarious poles were going to come tumbling down. Of course as the evening progressed the games ended in tears. One of the boys was Mrs. Dave's son, he's 7 and acted exactly like you'd expect and overly tired, energetic 7 year-old boy to act like.<br />
Some of the elders started to get impatient because the wedding couple took a very long time getting to the stage because the kept stopping to dance with their friends. Before I go one I should stop and say that this was a love marriage in comparison to the arranged one I saw earlier. The bride is from Indore (so most of the her side was also from Indore) and works with the groom. He proposed to her and her way of saying yes was to tell him to propose to her father. Luckily they are of the same caste so everything worked out well.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wedding party making their way to the stage.</td></tr>
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When the party finally reached the stage the bride's friends wouldn't let them sit down on the couch so they had to remain standing. When the time came for them to place flower garlands around each other's neck the groom's friends picked him up and put him on their shoulders forcing the bride's side to do the same so that they could be at the same height. It was all very entertaining to watch especially when the groom was dropped right as the bride was about to place his garland around his neck. She was carefully put down to finish the exchange.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bride and groom trying to exchange flower garlands on their friend's shoulders.</td></tr>
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After going on stage to give our congratulations and pose for a picture we went to eat. As I was eating my dad came over and told me not to waste my time eating real food when there was such and amazing spread of sweets. I don't really like Indian sweets. However, when I cam back from getting more food dad had brought me a plate full of one of each sweet to try. So I did. Some were very good while others I could barely swallow. It was however, a very filling dinner. By the time was had all finished dinner, dessert, after dessert ice cream and were sipping on soda the wedding party still hadn't eaten. The bride, groom, friends, and coworkers were all still on stage posing for pictures with each other. We sat around chatting with various people waiting for the main party to eat. Once they had finished we all went up to the rooms in the hotel that had been set aside for changing and preparations so that the people who needed to could change out of the obscenely heavy clothing into something more comfortable for the ceremony.<br />
I got to help the bride change out of her lehenga into a simpler sari. The wedding lehenga was extremely heavy and big and the bride was a very petit girl. I don't know how she managed to wear it for so long, not to mention all the jewelry she had on. At one point she turned to me and joked about Indian weddings saying that didn't is seem silly that one girl needed 5 others to help her undress. Despite the relatively quick change, considering the amount of clothing, jewelry, makeup, and hair that needed to be dealt with, many relatives started to get impatient. The bride's father, uncle, brothers, and friends frequently knocked on the door asking what was taking so long and harassing the bride and her "attendants" in a good natured way. Finally, around 3 in the morning the ceremony started. Many of the relatives had fallen asleep in one of the other rooms at this point. Some were woken up, others were left in peace.<br />
As per tradition, the brides brothers were allowed to try to steal the groom's shoes during the ceremony and hide them until he paid them off afterwards. Everyone removes their shoes before sitting down on the mattresses around the canopy. Traditionally, only the bride's brothers can do this in this case her close guy friends were considered brothers as well. Unfortunately for them the groom's family didn't make is easy. At one point, the boys sent Mrs. Dave's son to try to steal them. He got the wrong shoes...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wedding ceremony (unfortunately the wedding photographer had a really bright light on his camera). I was sitting behind the bride with Mrs. Dave who sat directly behind her to assist if needed.</td></tr>
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Mrs. Dave and her husband gave me a ride back to the hotel after because my dad had left earlier to go to bed. It was early morning by the time I got to bed and I had to get up at 6:30 to drive home the next day. Luckily I had a long drive to catch up on sleep on the way home.<br />
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Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-89665532953593370782011-04-22T20:29:00.000+05:302011-04-22T20:29:22.740+05:30Good Friday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> All the schools had holidays today. I didn't realize that today was Good Friday or that Sunday is Easter until halfway through today when I made the connection. It's seems funny that in a city and country of so few Christians there should be a school holiday for something like Good Friday. Here, any religious holiday warrants a break from school whereas in America there is such separation of church and state that no school holidays are supposed to be based around religious ones.<br />
Even though there was no school today my school friends had an extra class at the junior school right by my house. I went over there right at the end to say hi to some people I hadn't seen since school ended. We chatted for a little bit until they all got picked up. Some of my friends are heading over to the USA on the 30th for two weeks with a group from the school. They'll be in Texas and Florida. We talked about their trip America for a little bit. I'm curious to hear what they think of it and will have to meet with them when they get home to see.<br />
Other than that I don't have much to write about. I'll away for the whole weekend at the wedding with my host dad. We leave tomorrow (Saturday) morning and we'll get back either Sunday night or Monday morning. </div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-30538197940576416552011-04-20T19:58:00.000+05:302011-04-20T19:58:13.821+05:30Potential Mehendi Classes and Wedding Plans<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> This morning I met with Hannah, Reba and a friend of Reba's at the friends house. Reba's friend is also a Rotarian and was once the owner or the first beauty salon in Indore. Now she has a room off of the side of her house where she cuts hair as more of a hobby than anything. Uma, the friend of Reba's had arranged for us to meet with a girl who can teach us mehendi, the art of applying henna paste. We had a short lesson today and are going to work out later timings once the session of cooking classes ends. Mehendi is a lot harder than it looks. We were just drawing on paper and even then it was difficult to make the designs and shapes look like the teacher's. After class we spent some time chatting before walking back to Hannah's house to eat lunch and the walk over to cooking class. Today we learned different kinds of dals (also spelled daal). After class we went back to Hannah's and spent the afternoon fooling around.<br />
This weekend I might be attending a wedding with my host father outside of the city. My mom couldn't get leave from her job and my sister has exams starting tomorrow. The family who's getting married is very close to mine so at least one member of ours needs to attend but to be polite my mom wants to send at least half of the family which would be my dad and I. </div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-70178098848014734312011-04-17T21:11:00.000+05:302011-04-17T21:11:02.044+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> I'm running out of ideas of things to write about now that I'm done posting on the tour and I have a basic day to day routine that doesn't change much. Today, for example all I did was stay at home with my family since it's a Sunday. I did some small things that I've been meaning to get done but for most of the day ti was too hot in the house to do much. It was a lazy day for all of us because of the heat there was a lot of napping and lying around going on. I did start a new book called "The Twentieth Wife" by Indu Sundaresan which Amanda recommended to me. It's about the Mogul Empire and focuses on Emperor Akbar and his oldest son Salim (later Emperor Jahangir), the third and forth emperors of the Mogul Empire. Half of the book also focuses on Mehrunnisa, the daughter of a member of Akbar's court who is also a Persian refugee and her relationship with the court and Prince Salim.<br />
I feel like I haven't been reading as much this year as I usually do but when I think about it I spent a lot of time in the school library during my free times reading when I didn't have studying to do during study halls. At school most of the books I read were re-reads but some of the books I've read for the first time are:<br />
-Pride and Prejudice (I liked it better than I thought I was going to)<br />
- Great Gatsby<br />
- My Sister's Keeper (I've been meaning to read it for a long time)<br />
-Raising My Voice by Malalai Joya (She was the most outspoken member of the Afghan parliament until she was forced to leave, she's run a school for girls under the Taliban. Her book isn't really about her life and achievements as it is about exposing what western countries esp. America have done to Afghanistan and its people.)<br />
-The Kept Woman and Other Short Stories by Kamala Das<br />
- Room by Emma Donoghue (I was up past 3 am the other night finishing this one. I highly recommend checking it out.)<br />
-The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (and the two other books in the trilogy)<br />
-I even read the Eragon series at school as well as Inkheats<br />
-The Picture of Dorian Gray<br />
-The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells<br />
And many others that were repeats during school... like all the Harry Potters, The Thief Lord, Song of the Dolphins, Twelfth Night, all of the Chronicles of Narnia, etc.<br />
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If you have any ideas for blog topics or questions about India, my life here, my exchange, ect. write a comment or send me and email.</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-74826511743190592222011-04-14T20:32:00.001+05:302011-04-14T22:57:16.516+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Some people (Mom) have told me I don't put enough pictures of me on the blog so here are a series of pictures of me (a totally random selection) in absolutely no order what so ever that other people have taken. I wanted to title this blog post "Kelsey in India" but these pictures are of me in India with a group of other foreigners, in mostly tourist destinations thus, it's not really me in India in the way that I am most of the time. If I had them I would have pictures of me in cooking class, at the gurdwara, at home eating dinner or watching TV with my family, in my room with my sister, at the mall with friends, or in an auto rickshaw going somewhere.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day 1 of the tour in Jaipur in front of our bus, this was our first set of group pictures.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In front of Amber Fort in Jaipur ( I'm pretty sure)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjfs3O3VssH9dqXof3akA0lCdqvtuhMZTXGIdk9BwlvDcvGtvXs0orDF2WRKbKxVVbmZ10kofmNKUS_2zS4BH_N4xJTwtSPZRT9ZfD53YKbPPKMkFy70oAlN0Ser8FO65ZM5I0eLp3iUD/s1600/DSC01958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjfs3O3VssH9dqXof3akA0lCdqvtuhMZTXGIdk9BwlvDcvGtvXs0orDF2WRKbKxVVbmZ10kofmNKUS_2zS4BH_N4xJTwtSPZRT9ZfD53YKbPPKMkFy70oAlN0Ser8FO65ZM5I0eLp3iUD/s640/DSC01958.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kelsey and Nisha. There are many, many pictures in which at least one of us is making a face. A large percentage of my pictures are not normal, happy, smiling pictures.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUc7CUBm2Nc2F6Fwso4iwzYVisSCVX_uX6kgByv6E2ngHPNQUlxaGXrOyMcc6ig08LboLxvH-cd1zaIKLwnOpslS1ttmIpVz0b08RwiUSwVI_KM3Y376urKJ8n1h7UUZtzJGcUgLmt9PZb/s1600/DSCF8214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUc7CUBm2Nc2F6Fwso4iwzYVisSCVX_uX6kgByv6E2ngHPNQUlxaGXrOyMcc6ig08LboLxvH-cd1zaIKLwnOpslS1ttmIpVz0b08RwiUSwVI_KM3Y376urKJ8n1h7UUZtzJGcUgLmt9PZb/s640/DSCF8214.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olivia's birthday dinner in Calcutta.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicnKSmaK_uPqcRyjdWBMfxpasKo4DmOqF-NBtaGMPk4Q4-9Db1Vo1HgZMhKIuK0vVnvZ51hPixONo6MwRT7bb8dw502QxPJ85KvIQpwqjWHax0COPNjqGQo-qtNwoSwEZSjkqJEFerZdJU/s1600/IMG_3258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicnKSmaK_uPqcRyjdWBMfxpasKo4DmOqF-NBtaGMPk4Q4-9Db1Vo1HgZMhKIuK0vVnvZ51hPixONo6MwRT7bb8dw502QxPJ85KvIQpwqjWHax0COPNjqGQo-qtNwoSwEZSjkqJEFerZdJU/s640/IMG_3258.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the winter recreational base in Manali.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdeO190ltIeHCJNjp-FEwSiB04rMcXz6zPYiqPsPZPHVKumnngSy5cMcFM9PdDhJ8TxXAi929BtD_d_pm6hHud1KAsITh87k4-Xcr28gu7piMXKr5FyeEu-7H4R423pIGTgjuXtOfuJ2UP/s1600/IMG_6976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdeO190ltIeHCJNjp-FEwSiB04rMcXz6zPYiqPsPZPHVKumnngSy5cMcFM9PdDhJ8TxXAi929BtD_d_pm6hHud1KAsITh87k4-Xcr28gu7piMXKr5FyeEu-7H4R423pIGTgjuXtOfuJ2UP/s640/IMG_6976.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Long hours on the bus and early mornings and late nights meant that we had to be good at sleeping on buses (not an easy thing to do). People had to get comfortable however possible (notice the foot by Amanda's head)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTJA0t1cZNbxfPJi4mvQ3Me5cyYSfNhGV0Cu9_vibVDx_3_DKbEiKBCucGs3g-iHG4A6kr8xGZw6JiZ63uZAqRQQinC0aeIKlsc7X3QfnazulZQCBCDqzMVzH5FmTOZGujD32uHIfoFcXV/s1600/IMG_7128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTJA0t1cZNbxfPJi4mvQ3Me5cyYSfNhGV0Cu9_vibVDx_3_DKbEiKBCucGs3g-iHG4A6kr8xGZw6JiZ63uZAqRQQinC0aeIKlsc7X3QfnazulZQCBCDqzMVzH5FmTOZGujD32uHIfoFcXV/s640/IMG_7128.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for the bus in Jaipur Jordan took my camera and took really bad pictures of people this is us laughing at them.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3koY-e4ORLAQI6x_M93UJXVhFtp9_h3mOKy3Ls9hK9a0hVlLZW6EiGAHx569x04KvdoXy_Df_bx3oP6PzOXbMGjIP3upr_QW_3f1WEMfp1_nm1eITL1U_HImyX7UtrjrvjTRfTM2BAADt/s1600/IMG_7441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3koY-e4ORLAQI6x_M93UJXVhFtp9_h3mOKy3Ls9hK9a0hVlLZW6EiGAHx569x04KvdoXy_Df_bx3oP6PzOXbMGjIP3upr_QW_3f1WEMfp1_nm1eITL1U_HImyX7UtrjrvjTRfTM2BAADt/s640/IMG_7441.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not my favorite picture of me. Nisha and I waiting outside of the Golden Temple.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_fntL08S_h0D7crUSe_p-0jeD-mjlwRZIgEK-qf0QkygIu_NHxj3LsqXXzmpi3deacT_J-fnkx07jgsREIHM9shkX8z13Rz5j3rUiJFm1TJkwDTPTGqathgPgiZB44SmCgt5ZJ-cpuKm5/s1600/IMG_8000.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_fntL08S_h0D7crUSe_p-0jeD-mjlwRZIgEK-qf0QkygIu_NHxj3LsqXXzmpi3deacT_J-fnkx07jgsREIHM9shkX8z13Rz5j3rUiJFm1TJkwDTPTGqathgPgiZB44SmCgt5ZJ-cpuKm5/s640/IMG_8000.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The Indore Kids"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOI5leBfq0eW-aSVz8tPoGP2FuMtAy55qKHPqyWap4R8fPQ6a3r31-1C8ar8DYvDOj2YpYjhwf_D_r51SXbJUmQXeU3juxNlVMLz-G3jqLycubqeoPcUy5qAfstUuPgclUOwQM_Q5iKhf/s1600/IMG_8400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOI5leBfq0eW-aSVz8tPoGP2FuMtAy55qKHPqyWap4R8fPQ6a3r31-1C8ar8DYvDOj2YpYjhwf_D_r51SXbJUmQXeU3juxNlVMLz-G3jqLycubqeoPcUy5qAfstUuPgclUOwQM_Q5iKhf/s640/IMG_8400.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was the first one to climb on boulders up in the mountains near Gangtok when we were by the China border.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDahMup_PaR1I_9wlIhNd9wgr9O5ykxBZJJlQ4JO21q9tQVQIsWiH5bFE3V0DLhKHV3Xt1fegRO2_nR1tn-izXkwzUaB9GwquM3UkIyiglUr37WgYSGG5iwhyphenhyphenpNY9dzoxb6BDcxq-fiLjw/s1600/IMG_8468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDahMup_PaR1I_9wlIhNd9wgr9O5ykxBZJJlQ4JO21q9tQVQIsWiH5bFE3V0DLhKHV3Xt1fegRO2_nR1tn-izXkwzUaB9GwquM3UkIyiglUr37WgYSGG5iwhyphenhyphenpNY9dzoxb6BDcxq-fiLjw/s640/IMG_8468.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The group by the lake by the China border.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wasting time in Agra Fort just before the monkey's attacked....</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBzN_Sl17QwJVSoqGW4vNX1g_EwhWL0tcP0CLHY0g8T2-Qqfn0bhGyYZ-jsFxY69cDZ-Ioh1_ywjAnDD1Wqw3JClCSul0oJqjPCThlmmnAzmj9ghvb-nUuysdphEZEDRN1JX6Ma2fVss-S/s1600/P1030647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBzN_Sl17QwJVSoqGW4vNX1g_EwhWL0tcP0CLHY0g8T2-Qqfn0bhGyYZ-jsFxY69cDZ-Ioh1_ywjAnDD1Wqw3JClCSul0oJqjPCThlmmnAzmj9ghvb-nUuysdphEZEDRN1JX6Ma2fVss-S/s640/P1030647.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The group in Agra Fort.</td></tr>
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</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-35670081000358146232011-04-14T19:32:00.002+05:302011-04-14T22:51:49.427+05:30A Holy Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> Today marks the beginning of the solar new year. It's a very important day for Sikhism just as the past week has been important for Hinduism. Today also is the anniversary of my host father's mom's death.<br />
The whole family got up this morning and went to the gurdwara. We spent all morning there along with extended family. After we'd been there a little my cousin Jahanvi and I spent a little time walking around and talking until her mom told us to go sit inside if we weren't doing anything. My family's gurdwara is in a residential area near to our house. The temple is across from a park and then a few houses down is the langar house where food is prepared and served for free to all people everyone, regardless of caste, race, religion etc. site on the floor in rows however, only members of the Sikh community are supposed to be allowed to eat off of clean plates. The food is cooked on the idea of seva, selfless service. All Sikhs are supposed to preform some form of seva, preferably to help the religion. Cooking and serving food is one form of seva, another is Chaur. The Sikh holy book is treated as a guru because it has the writings of both Sikh gurus and holy texts form other religions inside. Chaur sahib is an implement made of yak hair mounted on a metal or wooden handle that is used to cool and keep flies off of the Sri Guru Granth Sahib (the holy book.) Sometimes there are certain appointed people who preform this seva. In the gurdwara we went to it was voluntary. Because my all of my host dad's local family members were in attendance they all took turns preforming the service. My host mom had me do it as well at one point during the service. You stand behind the Sri Guru Granth Sahib and wave the Chaur Sahib over it. The book is set on a platform in with a canopy over it and an offering area in front of it where people can leave money, flowers, and prasad (food of the gods). The book is taken care of, clothed in new coverings when not in use, and fanned each day.<br />
This was the first time that I had attended a full sermon at the gurdwara. It started around 10:30, about an hour and a half after we'd been there. The sermons are given through chanting from the book or singing. During the service people continued entering. When you enter you go to the platform where the book is held and bow to it touching your head to to the floor, offer money, and may take a round behind the platform to where there are other holy items. When inside the gurdwara premises you must always keep your head covered. Once you have paid respects to the book everyone sits on the floor, men on one side and women on the other, for the sermon. My cousin Prenisha, who's in 6th grade, sang a song with her mom as back up.<br />
After the sermon, at around 11:30, almost everyone went to the langar house where a meal was being served. I helped my mom serve for a little bit along with some host aunts, cousins, and my sister. After we'd all eaten and been served to in turn we headed home.<br />
I had just enough time to go home and grabbed my bag for cooking class before I had to head out the door again. On my way to the main road where I catch on auto rickshaw I ran into a school friend of mine who I hadn't seen since school ended outside of the junior school. I didn't have time to chat but we exchanged numbers and she told me that they have extra accounts classes at the junior school sometimes and that next time they did she'd call me so I could come over after.<br />
Today during cooking class we learned rice dishes such a biryani and some basic rices too. Yesterday we learned "continental" dishes which are considered to be western. We did baked vegetables, stuffed tomatos, and potato pie. They were all something you could find in the US but with definite Indian touches.<br />
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<a href="http://www.sikhs.org/">Sikhism's Official Website</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.sikhiwiki.org/index.php/Chaur_sahib">Chaur Sahib</a><br />
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These pictures are not ones I took but ones I got off the internet. Sometimes I don't feel right bringing a camera to holy places and taking pictures.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPcU09AupuOCrLaKXtQ2dVZoORP8JF4qK6EDBbnCEAxYwKOA-_pQ_2snsgvf2HzRNoqk0RQ92VXe2vgr67tOxuyRo3JKIMCVAs-DPJyNS_aFUBEhK7ZLv4DbdLwR1WSRNBj2Xp2lgV6leI/s1600/772px-Gurdwara_AB_Road_Indore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPcU09AupuOCrLaKXtQ2dVZoORP8JF4qK6EDBbnCEAxYwKOA-_pQ_2snsgvf2HzRNoqk0RQ92VXe2vgr67tOxuyRo3JKIMCVAs-DPJyNS_aFUBEhK7ZLv4DbdLwR1WSRNBj2Xp2lgV6leI/s640/772px-Gurdwara_AB_Road_Indore.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The main gurdwara in Indore (not the one my family attends)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLyrCUJZE-2JsxhNOnOB-kJkuSpBdHvJdiumHIjNPx6O6xZEiuTbUqGC0UchAc_kBrRVMSJ6oHq-0ecNwkswHW_vU1TXUAQIwHzcGXpiUIFcYacMJUmeaVZOMEbfsRvvBlGi3FmEYcoFP6/s1600/gurugranthsahib.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLyrCUJZE-2JsxhNOnOB-kJkuSpBdHvJdiumHIjNPx6O6xZEiuTbUqGC0UchAc_kBrRVMSJ6oHq-0ecNwkswHW_vU1TXUAQIwHzcGXpiUIFcYacMJUmeaVZOMEbfsRvvBlGi3FmEYcoFP6/s640/gurugranthsahib.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Guru Granth Sahib.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTpNJwiGilfOzHycoy7F0joQzjgh_zgsRQdCl8xXLHC3uJ3nqwaCgzcAnxryx7PJwWXLNHuDzEHH9lLHv0Q3pjrjlobVScVV44hYMZ9rbvpXHSj_QenjyentKDP4IPrVUdkBjHCr87Xzr/s1600/khanda.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTpNJwiGilfOzHycoy7F0joQzjgh_zgsRQdCl8xXLHC3uJ3nqwaCgzcAnxryx7PJwWXLNHuDzEHH9lLHv0Q3pjrjlobVScVV44hYMZ9rbvpXHSj_QenjyentKDP4IPrVUdkBjHCr87Xzr/s320/khanda.png" width="280" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the main Sikh symbols (it can be found on their flag)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPJTtd7hrlVDDhHzSSTm4kWxAoeLnGi5gdxITtGFk6Jq125eFMrQFHX5w-GRruCugtdXHG4rPgpcqIIXnsovIQL_Rd7Shm3UyAOPFZ1I0UhZwj4-iou2xfyEvjvU6QFZQgGfhZJIc_PSI/s1600/Sri_Guru_Granth_Sahib.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPJTtd7hrlVDDhHzSSTm4kWxAoeLnGi5gdxITtGFk6Jq125eFMrQFHX5w-GRruCugtdXHG4rPgpcqIIXnsovIQL_Rd7Shm3UyAOPFZ1I0UhZwj4-iou2xfyEvjvU6QFZQgGfhZJIc_PSI/s640/Sri_Guru_Granth_Sahib.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Guru Granth Sahib with its coverings.</td></tr>
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</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-80601448460017023142011-04-12T21:17:00.000+05:302011-04-12T21:17:39.539+05:30Cooking and Feeding<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> Yesterday I had my first Indian cooking class as part of a two week session. The class is taught in Hindi and there are about six girls in it, most of whom are going to get married within the next year or so or just got married. It's held in the side room of an aunty's apartment where she has a counter, shelves, and fridge set up. It's much like a cooking show with her behind the counter and us sitting in chair in front taking notes and asking questions. I wish I could find a class where each person actually get to make the dish on their own as practice but apparently that kind of cooking class can't be found here. It's sort of like the school teaching style, the teacher stands in front and the students sit and take notes as quickly as they can. This class was a lot more relaxed than the school atmosphere, people made jokes, chatted, and answered their phones during it. Luckily, my Hindi is good enough that I can understand most of the instructions though there are two girls who speak English well and answer questions is I have them. There are some ingredients that were not in my vocabulary yet and certain measurements too. There are also some ingredients that I'm going to have a hard time finding at home like mango powder, chat masala, garam masala, mawa, gram flour, etc. Yesterday's focus was Palak or spinach. We made Palak Paneer, Palak Kofta, Reshmi Palak, and Maharani (Queen's) Palak, all very very tasty.<br />
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Today there was no class because it's the final day of the nine night festival, Navratri. There are multiple Navratris in the calendar year and mark the religious New Year. During this festival my host mother and aunt fasted, eating only certain, special foods. This morning my mom cooked large amount of rice, chickpeas, poori, and halwa. All the young girls no matter, social status, from the area came to our house to eat. During these days the girls seen as having gods within. We washed their feet and said "Jai Mata Di," a salute to gods, placed tilaks (the red or orange marks put on foreheads with powder), tied holy string around their wrists and said a prayer. Then we served them all as they sat in the floor or couches. After the meal each kid received 10 rupees and a small gift. In total there were about 24 children who came this morning. The poorer children, took their leftovers home to eat later or give to their parents. It was clear to see the difference between the classes of children, the ones who left a lot of food on their plates were obviously the ones who get three or more large meals a day. After they had left we ate and served family members and friends who came. A very similar thing happened downstairs at my aunt and uncle's yesterday morning. Apparently a few years back there were many, many more young girls in the area but now they're all getting older so there are less and less children to feed. I spent the rest of the day hanging out with my cousin downstairs.</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-43526038378518471732011-04-12T20:43:00.001+05:302011-04-12T20:43:26.402+05:30Desert Pictures<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">These are a few of the pictures taken by other people when we were in the Thar desert just outside of Jaisalmer. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpaG996oHvJ0JWzwTI8tglkBX9zw2PsGsga2uz2NjMfiJhWlzfbkN2BNt6ZuYC-9VVX__LpHyplgOGZNMTAM3G9eFT0uUU5ou6hIeNLaRNmL5v_AjsAcJyBDqolxvE0Man_9Go65bHCzIL/s1600/205620_1822468615724_1660493074_1807467_6040133_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpaG996oHvJ0JWzwTI8tglkBX9zw2PsGsga2uz2NjMfiJhWlzfbkN2BNt6ZuYC-9VVX__LpHyplgOGZNMTAM3G9eFT0uUU5ou6hIeNLaRNmL5v_AjsAcJyBDqolxvE0Man_9Go65bHCzIL/s640/205620_1822468615724_1660493074_1807467_6040133_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit: RK (the tour guide)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jumping pictures are our specialty. We took them everywhere we could find a good place to do it. Almost all the jumping pictures are on Hannah's camera. (Photo Credit: RK)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me on my camel. (Photo Credit: RK)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbV93ZPB3ODuT5wVbVQvnF6HAvGs9R1ezmJtc7Zz2is68HEFdRLcej2wkIgx1Rx681wVrZDIMzir8_Rmmc44ZtarMKqoiRwyBr8sjBp3YU1B5HIo-AEX8ZrcBnGYSN6rYZsUe0dY5WsWG/s1600/208085_1822463135587_1660493074_1807440_5495512_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbV93ZPB3ODuT5wVbVQvnF6HAvGs9R1ezmJtc7Zz2is68HEFdRLcej2wkIgx1Rx681wVrZDIMzir8_Rmmc44ZtarMKqoiRwyBr8sjBp3YU1B5HIo-AEX8ZrcBnGYSN6rYZsUe0dY5WsWG/s640/208085_1822463135587_1660493074_1807440_5495512_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Group. Photo Credit: RK</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGD6jcqPtbJSMbJIeghvy64rQUaJVPB4ZoP2r92s6RAR30xcMpIWbUm5RG1R6GC_yzc0Jxj1_wR51l-OFqWqLFuiQUaZABPjiR0HylKmfeAEx000bKy2PovDWajH38WjfK6zHdV7PLC_cw/s1600/216353_1822458335467_1660493074_1807417_4982770_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGD6jcqPtbJSMbJIeghvy64rQUaJVPB4ZoP2r92s6RAR30xcMpIWbUm5RG1R6GC_yzc0Jxj1_wR51l-OFqWqLFuiQUaZABPjiR0HylKmfeAEx000bKy2PovDWajH38WjfK6zHdV7PLC_cw/s640/216353_1822458335467_1660493074_1807417_4982770_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Group in front of "R.Y.E." (Rotary Youth Exchange) written in the sand. Unfortunately RK's shadow is in the picture too. (From Left to Right: Sam, Nisha, Jordan, Me, Amanda, Serenity, Anais, Hannah, Nikolas, Chris, Brii, Franzi)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another Jumping Picture. Notice the crutches, Franzi spent almost all of the tour hobbling around on crutches. She went everywhere we did no matter if we were on sand or going up hundreds of stairs and refused help most of the time. A group of the Nagpur studenst were in an auto rickshaw on their way to one of the World Cup Cricket matches in their city when it was hit by another car. They all got hurt but she got the worst of it because she was sitting on someone's lap instead of a seat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_X7h4XEd-Oeb8madc-u_UufPNRRX1yAIKL20z5LHDnm0BLUdt_gJc2_b_ata4SIKkqHgMQdb4oc0khwQuoErcqHSbFl2hsijZb4u29kLDcZYz92wvUPXk3k0k89vc3KGjbJlTv-WunoB/s1600/DSC01782.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_X7h4XEd-Oeb8madc-u_UufPNRRX1yAIKL20z5LHDnm0BLUdt_gJc2_b_ata4SIKkqHgMQdb4oc0khwQuoErcqHSbFl2hsijZb4u29kLDcZYz92wvUPXk3k0k89vc3KGjbJlTv-WunoB/s640/DSC01782.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit: Nisha Khan</td></tr>
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</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-86025575910562173542011-04-11T21:00:00.000+05:302011-04-11T21:00:49.848+05:30North Tour Part Twelve; The Last Post<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Our final stop was Hawra, the city adjacent to Kolkata (formerly Calcutta). From Gangtok we drove back down to the same train station we'd arrived at and headed for Hawra overnight. In Hawra we spent the day sight seeing and exploring the main shopping road. At night we went out to celebrate Olivia's 17th birthday which was the next day. We sang for her and gave her a cake at midnight. The next day was sweltering hot and we were supposed to drive hours to visit temple. Instead, we visited only one temple and the Mother Theresa House. Mother Theresa's house was very simple and plain. We visited her tomb and an exhibition on her life. It was truly inspiring to see what one woman had done with her life and at her tomb to see all the people who love her and had left prayers and notes. The top of her tomb was decorated with paper cranes and messages of prayers for Japan. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> We went out to dinner to celebrate our last night together then spent along time in the hotel until 3 in the morning when we had to go to the train station (at least 8 hours later than scheduled). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sam on the train.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These pictures are to give a better idea of what the trains look like. There's an aisle with two bunks on one side (where Sam's sitting) and on the other side of the aisle there's a compartment with six beds (three on each side). The bottom bunk is a seat during the day. The middle bunk folds down to make a back for the seat and at night is held up by chains that loop up on the top bunk during the day.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKUqdjPHGZ6SEupqelcXDhyphenhyphenATw1wVZM_7fhnfNOXwziMcSuvCtudKWm0q5Qve65a9QrEfkQYRlC9ohlynRXBrj0pu_EjAqywmxuJSZH6sJb3qpmmEdlAYgavbfdKikKE7rUpQY94w1ruw4/s1600/DSCN2262.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKUqdjPHGZ6SEupqelcXDhyphenhyphenATw1wVZM_7fhnfNOXwziMcSuvCtudKWm0q5Qve65a9QrEfkQYRlC9ohlynRXBrj0pu_EjAqywmxuJSZH6sJb3qpmmEdlAYgavbfdKikKE7rUpQY94w1ruw4/s640/DSCN2262.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olivia on her birthday in the hotel lobby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-69805622954663622972011-04-09T16:46:00.000+05:302011-04-09T16:46:53.062+05:30North Tour Part Eleven; Gangtok (continued)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> After the Holi celebration we had free time for the rest of the day. A group of us went back to the market in the evening for dinner and found a real Mexican restaurant (well, more like American-Mexican food) that also had wifi. After dinner we walked around for a little bit and happened on a large group of people at the far end of the market holding a candlelit prayer session for Japan which we joined. </span></div><br />
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<div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> The next day drove for hours way up into the mountains to the northern most point allowed of foreigners. We were 50 kilometers from the Chinese border and passed several military settlements and stations along the narrow, winding road. There is a lake and little cafe that marked the limit to where foreigners could venture. We walked around on a path by the lake and climbed on boulders that had probably been left by glaciers or rock slides. We took a lot of group photos which are all on someone else's camera. By the way, I plan on getting the majority of the pictures that were taken on the tour and putting them on my laptop and when I do I'll put some favorites here. </span></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXPVsOWR0Ld2Eik1FLSfRmaoYR6pkPA4mpCP7uaEeR4_3_nicQaYhOCUVbsdfcvuzRKHOw2uVU4RRHQWp9X1B-r1zNLyPHvy1iGL8lyPvJfUqv2RWVxmws34TLXiNHPvapzn78KcrKV6-C/s1600/DSCN2200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXPVsOWR0Ld2Eik1FLSfRmaoYR6pkPA4mpCP7uaEeR4_3_nicQaYhOCUVbsdfcvuzRKHOw2uVU4RRHQWp9X1B-r1zNLyPHvy1iGL8lyPvJfUqv2RWVxmws34TLXiNHPvapzn78KcrKV6-C/s640/DSCN2200.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font: 13.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">If I were to make a single, one hundred percent factual statement about Amanda it would be that she's an animal lover (except spiders and bugs but i don't think those count as animals).</span></div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZvd9XH8L496-NizrZBnp5gb2HAxqky7YM2_dyltDe5TzEhIfFNkNct2e1lY8lqAtyTE1b26Rjzcfk0baRNYSNDCM8f5P26hbRWhiIkrEIfcLryZH9egZXcNAok-Fon6iHL7Vvx8TipPT/s1600/DSCN2203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZvd9XH8L496-NizrZBnp5gb2HAxqky7YM2_dyltDe5TzEhIfFNkNct2e1lY8lqAtyTE1b26Rjzcfk0baRNYSNDCM8f5P26hbRWhiIkrEIfcLryZH9egZXcNAok-Fon6iHL7Vvx8TipPT/s640/DSCN2203.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font: 13.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We crossed a bridged that had prayer wheels on either side. Prayer wheels are a Buddhist concept, they are hollow cylinders with mantras or prayer on the outside and often on paper on the inside. When a prayer wheel is spun in a clockwise direction the prayers on it are released into the universe and the spinner's sins are lessened. This is looking back on the road we came up and one of the military stations.</span></div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65YnT3GqhOrBQRp3Mh68VYyGW7l9Oa3ujZbk6eT-4PeIitYxoy3dTxdB5IZNZ-2cufU2D42WEBUeJBQTaGn40CSKp3oFHWhyphenhyphenCbxvDCjwlcnQjD7OdWpKVky1C9SCFVVBpQ75fQ6EQAk7n/s1600/DSCN2235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65YnT3GqhOrBQRp3Mh68VYyGW7l9Oa3ujZbk6eT-4PeIitYxoy3dTxdB5IZNZ-2cufU2D42WEBUeJBQTaGn40CSKp3oFHWhyphenhyphenCbxvDCjwlcnQjD7OdWpKVky1C9SCFVVBpQ75fQ6EQAk7n/s640/DSCN2235.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Franzi (Germany)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbHjbkR2pr4UUvlNqUnlHOG6RkLI02FkGhc2dVLuydcOebGEr5Awl1NTY_nnnofM-kfMH0p7CJGH1tJdK646cESQYOdFZ-TAC3ffuOrSJ2wLzMustbGHL9TnW82EGxcWVsrfGNoPPfhYhY/s1600/DSCN2246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbHjbkR2pr4UUvlNqUnlHOG6RkLI02FkGhc2dVLuydcOebGEr5Awl1NTY_nnnofM-kfMH0p7CJGH1tJdK646cESQYOdFZ-TAC3ffuOrSJ2wLzMustbGHL9TnW82EGxcWVsrfGNoPPfhYhY/s640/DSCN2246.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Amanda.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKE5HKS7EykHDkCRA3I7rhyphenhyphenqcpx_WVM4GFDa-v13q9uAnmA1gy7_Cd9MvOEgf2XXowddAoaDX3dZQlP1Qdjg-Otr741396qbvfySOYDK6c1Y4aJbglQGnCPBYzWPOobXTs2uM5-WYNt9Yv/s1600/DSCN2205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKE5HKS7EykHDkCRA3I7rhyphenhyphenqcpx_WVM4GFDa-v13q9uAnmA1gy7_Cd9MvOEgf2XXowddAoaDX3dZQlP1Qdjg-Otr741396qbvfySOYDK6c1Y4aJbglQGnCPBYzWPOobXTs2uM5-WYNt9Yv/s640/DSCN2205.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font: 13.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Looking towards the lake, and China. Prayer flags (not pictured) are pieces of cloth, either in white or in the five sacred colors of Buddhism, with mantras written on them that are hung outside. Whenever the wind blows a prayer flag, like a prayer wheel, is releases the mantras and good energies into the universe. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table><span id="goog_353221104"></span><span id="goog_353221105"></span></div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-17253058238416048332011-04-07T20:23:00.003+05:302011-04-07T20:23:12.462+05:30Weather<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15px;"></span><br />
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<tr><td valign="top"><h3 class="r" style="display: inline; font-size: medium; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b>For those interested, this is the current weather forecast for my city:<br />
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Weather</b> for <b>Indore, Madhya Pradesh</b></h3></td></tr>
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<tr><td rowspan="2" style="font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top; white-space: nowrap;">91°F | <a class="fl" href="http://www.google.co.in/setprefs?fheit=0&sig=0_EAhksbPBto8OT_Ycy8COUVJcawk=&prev=http://www.google.co.in/search%3Fhl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26rls%3Den%26sa%3DX%26ei%3Dg8-dTZXKKIKWcbyn-LsE%26ved%3D0CBYQvwUoAQ%26q%3Dindore%2Bforecast%26spell%3D1" style="color: #3366cc; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">°C</a></td><td align="center" style="vertical-align: top;">Thu</td><td align="center" style="vertical-align: top;">Fri</td><td align="center" style="vertical-align: top;">Sat</td><td align="center" style="vertical-align: top;">Sun</td></tr>
<tr><td rowspan="3" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Mostly Sunny" border="0" height="40" src="http://www.google.co.in/images/icons/onebox/weather_partlycloudy-40.gif" style="margin-right: 3px; vertical-align: top;" title="Mostly Sunny" width="40" /></td><td rowspan="3" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Clear" border="0" height="40" src="http://www.google.co.in/images/icons/onebox/weather_sunny-40.gif" style="margin-right: 3px; vertical-align: top;" title="Clear" width="40" /></td><td rowspan="3" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Clear" border="0" height="40" src="http://www.google.co.in/images/icons/onebox/weather_sunny-40.gif" style="margin-right: 3px; vertical-align: top;" title="Clear" width="40" /></td><td rowspan="3" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Clear" border="0" height="40" src="http://www.google.co.in/images/icons/onebox/weather_sunny-40.gif" style="margin-right: 3px; vertical-align: top;" title="Clear" width="40" /></td></tr>
<tr><td style="padding-right: 12px; white-space: nowrap;">Current: <b>Partly Cloudy</b></td></tr>
<tr><td style="padding-right: 12px; white-space: nowrap;">Wind: SE at 16 mph</td></tr>
<tr><td style="padding-right: 12px; white-space: nowrap;">Humidity: 24%</td><td style="padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center; white-space: nowrap;">97°F | 68°F</td><td style="padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center; white-space: nowrap;">97°F | 70°F</td><td style="padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center; white-space: nowrap;">99°F | 70°F</td><td style="padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center; white-space: nowrap;">100°F | 72°F</td></tr>
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</tbody></table></div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-9751650169050705652011-04-07T20:08:00.000+05:302011-04-07T20:08:59.935+05:30North Tour Part Ten; Derjeeling and Gangtok (Holi)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> From Bodhgaya we took a long, hot, bumpy car ride to the train station in Patna where we boarded a train for New Jalpaigudi, it was about a 12 hour train ride, luckily we were in the air conditioned class this time. Upon arriving, we immediately got into jeeps and drove more that six hours up into the mountains to the city of Darjeeling. Our first stop in Darjeeling was the Himalayan Institute which included an mountaineering museum, with one floor dedicated to Mt. Everest, and a zoo of local species. From there we proceeded to our hotel in the city. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> We had plenty of time to explore and shop for Darjeeling's famous tea before dinner. Just as we were leaving our rooms, a few of us were invited up into the home of the owners. The woman whose family owned the hotel happened to be passing as Hannah, Franzi, Amanda, and I were leaving our rooms and invited us up. The family is Tibetan refugees. She showed us their ornate and beautiful prayer room that you could tell had been constructed and decorate with great love and care. In the entire house for the extended family two floors at the top of the hotel and everything, every inch was beautiful. As we sat eating Tibetan cookies, she told us her family's story. Her family left Tibet with a group of 30 people and arrived in India with only 13. After they had lived elsewhere for a while and earned some money, they moved to Darjeeling and bought the property on a loan. The hotel started with six rooms and only two staff, with the family working from 4 in the morning until as late as 2 in the morning doing most of the work. They now have 5 floors of rooms, a library and siting area, restaurant, gift shop, and 23 working staff. The hotel is highly recommended for its service and food by the Lonely Planet guide book of India. They are also the only family to have paid off both the loan and interest on time. Because of this they were invited to tea with the president of the bank. Plus her husband is a Rotarian. Throughout the whole visit we were all totally in awe, it's an inspiring story and makes you realize not only what hard work can bring but also how hard some people have to work in order to earn things. The amazing thing too was that she wasn't bragging or even proud. In fact we had to continue to ask questions in order to get the whole story and many times she was reluctant to compliment herself and her family. However, we were reminded more than once that it all came from hard work and told that the Tibetan Buddhist people are very hard workers. We also discussed why so many countries around the world support and sympathize with Tibet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> The next morning, we got up painfully early to see the sunrise over Mount Kanchenjunga, the third highest mountain in the world. Unfortunately, it was an extremely foggy morning so all we got was the view of clouds surrounding us and free chai. One the way back to the hotel, we stopped at several Buddhist temples and a few cloudy view points. After breakfast we proceeded to pack up the cars and head on another six hour journey to Gangtok.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Gangtok is in the state of Sikkim. Because Sikkim is on the Chinese border we, as foreigners, needed special permission to enter. As soon as we crossed the border we had to stop to register and get our passports stamped before we could proceed to Gangtok. The first day we were in Gangtok was the Hindu festival of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holi">Holi</a>, the festival of colors. We all put on white clothes and clothes we didn't care about, oiled our face and hair to avoid long-lasting stains, braided our hair, and headed out armed with colored power. Holi is a festival I personally think that we should celebrate in the states. Everyone who's playing goes out with powder and water and rubs and throws the powder at other people. A greeting on Holi consists of saying "Happy Holi" while rubbing powder on the other persons face. When we were in the Gangtok market the little kids were very excited to get the chance to play with willing foreigners. As a group, we were sure to give other foreigners we met and especially warm wishing. We met another group of high school aged students from Tennessee. We were each given a bag of powder at the beginning of the morning but very quickly people found that they needed to buy more. The celebrations were winding down by midday when we went back to the hotel and very, very, VERY carefully changed and bathed. The problem with Holi powder is that is stains skin, clothes, anything made of fabric, etc so we had to try really hard not to get it on the hotel's towels or sheets. At one point when I was showering, I looked in the mirror and my face looked like I was a member of the Blue Man Group, the soap had spread the coloring around on my face and the blue was strongest color. It took me five face washes to be presentably clean. I used exfoliating scrub three times and another face wash twice. By the time I was done my face felt raw and my eyebrows and hairline were colorful. I also looked like I had a black left eye. In some places the color was visibly in my pores. I good amount of make-up covered most of the coloring, enough so that I felt like I could go out to look for a wireless cafe with some friends.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2S4Y0RGFWhzrG77PGS2q92s_Bm1nKLGyYGAhmCTFFIx10neA7ZX1Id3Hu4uqfKkF6Ynquz-JPeaqOBfhPLt2XmnLWIQ9bs2PC61Y02D0u6Qb2mzP8CBiJCUcfccSdxPByYyOl8FshaWcp/s1600/DSCN2068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2S4Y0RGFWhzrG77PGS2q92s_Bm1nKLGyYGAhmCTFFIx10neA7ZX1Id3Hu4uqfKkF6Ynquz-JPeaqOBfhPLt2XmnLWIQ9bs2PC61Y02D0u6Qb2mzP8CBiJCUcfccSdxPByYyOl8FshaWcp/s640/DSCN2068.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Franzi from Germany (she couldn't really see but she wanted to leave the glasses colored for pictures)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6SzYAwy3MGhUa5Ll7Vaeb4oBP0GVRzvgcI2aIKA_QWPNqW9wbOmzuURlLgH_bNEiHrP019NUM2ANDwWjJrPw6cjKyJyvGGiHNVxlS9YA-2SE8vjSGasLHvpIn81ek-WNDCUb6OJL2i94/s1600/DSCN2073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6SzYAwy3MGhUa5Ll7Vaeb4oBP0GVRzvgcI2aIKA_QWPNqW9wbOmzuURlLgH_bNEiHrP019NUM2ANDwWjJrPw6cjKyJyvGGiHNVxlS9YA-2SE8vjSGasLHvpIn81ek-WNDCUb6OJL2i94/s640/DSCN2073.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting in front of the hotel to take pictures.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrZX627Qcl-N6HjMoz2GHGViLs8e8Ij1HVNPIEj5bsxnFFCOpv6YsM5sEqBCZk2auB7jzP5QSpfvA0NxJzn77eeI4wREt1oPo3Ul5Auds-DGYGzbCmXxTFk1x5Ys5HRjtWRfydgIdO8bHN/s1600/DSCN2078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrZX627Qcl-N6HjMoz2GHGViLs8e8Ij1HVNPIEj5bsxnFFCOpv6YsM5sEqBCZk2auB7jzP5QSpfvA0NxJzn77eeI4wREt1oPo3Ul5Auds-DGYGzbCmXxTFk1x5Ys5HRjtWRfydgIdO8bHN/s640/DSCN2078.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olivia's form Michigan but her family has moved to Switzerland while she's been in India.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHfkRxKGwZRRXZKt0MycNFFnYK8q6rwvfngkDMGc8_QRpEN9qA99Q_iRoRGLvO7pUghd-UICMZUJbkmanXqtVG63faDx-YzYtiFF9c_9hSqvweAFMkXlu3Vw4sT66ETpc6DXRct01lVjQ/s1600/DSCN2080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHfkRxKGwZRRXZKt0MycNFFnYK8q6rwvfngkDMGc8_QRpEN9qA99Q_iRoRGLvO7pUghd-UICMZUJbkmanXqtVG63faDx-YzYtiFF9c_9hSqvweAFMkXlu3Vw4sT66ETpc6DXRct01lVjQ/s640/DSCN2080.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sam form Virginia.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJR_tfskEV582uBAtHgsJFkfYAbxRFxdc9W4mE3tc7fURZvXzLy5DVrBfCAafEykDwgGQpQ3GMSM-XTK_6fo3iyfTtdJhsWndDvj92nIgKYxBmXcvLzOBtgGAHrXZFJaugsYRdo4IC1LDG/s1600/DSCN2084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJR_tfskEV582uBAtHgsJFkfYAbxRFxdc9W4mE3tc7fURZvXzLy5DVrBfCAafEykDwgGQpQ3GMSM-XTK_6fo3iyfTtdJhsWndDvj92nIgKYxBmXcvLzOBtgGAHrXZFJaugsYRdo4IC1LDG/s640/DSCN2084.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jordan (Oregon) and Hannah (Germany).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMyv75jq1W62rIEWuuQ42gPqqbDxUnbvuVerXzwRB5wKMvcHLiB3ICUxhQXn0rsOwRKPVNMgBucJocsY01kOZUxY-GXTKgbS4wRzwvs1BgONBRyDUeCRaXxKAvpeb8TDSBvhSgFmKDgqhx/s1600/DSCN2091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMyv75jq1W62rIEWuuQ42gPqqbDxUnbvuVerXzwRB5wKMvcHLiB3ICUxhQXn0rsOwRKPVNMgBucJocsY01kOZUxY-GXTKgbS4wRzwvs1BgONBRyDUeCRaXxKAvpeb8TDSBvhSgFmKDgqhx/s640/DSCN2091.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amanda (Washington)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGqzB-lxz-37DKHHXFaLHKoILsIhFUxgUXr7mycRMCVzc4NV04tIyNhyphenhyphen23SHsefhhwvYHxCNSKoxLwQgLI1x2zBGlenjyHHzRYCVNVllbeCuO5jUNPGCCA_5IlvQgKLNwJ2VdXI7-r3Wd/s1600/DSCN2111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGqzB-lxz-37DKHHXFaLHKoILsIhFUxgUXr7mycRMCVzc4NV04tIyNhyphenhyphen23SHsefhhwvYHxCNSKoxLwQgLI1x2zBGlenjyHHzRYCVNVllbeCuO5jUNPGCCA_5IlvQgKLNwJ2VdXI7-r3Wd/s640/DSCN2111.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The whole group. From left to right: Chris Yoder, Nikolas, Anais, Serenity, Olivia, Sam, Me, Nisha, Brii, Jordan, Hannah, Amanda, Franzi.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2uJhTl-3afP45oy5O6emnd6kw1fy1YNp3Cq6u6rsuHM-Y1Avq0dHC4MoTOLvahBqHFS0KcGbyHSCx0qUeIkUk2ZNfObk8wKuidKpYV4W3bbOHknwHC-5kSLYtb_KJdaG_qIQ_ogaytId/s1600/DSCN2112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2uJhTl-3afP45oy5O6emnd6kw1fy1YNp3Cq6u6rsuHM-Y1Avq0dHC4MoTOLvahBqHFS0KcGbyHSCx0qUeIkUk2ZNfObk8wKuidKpYV4W3bbOHknwHC-5kSLYtb_KJdaG_qIQ_ogaytId/s640/DSCN2112.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me... I kept the shirt and plan on bringing it home as a souvenir.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyZokQndPByL5duXZjMDCOq55TJSfWUwACrlm5WrKZmpVtdCMWYF-J4XL-Sk_OHXGiZ5TXDRtcWGBdw2CAKNS50ErZsxs1XgMF1oB7g_2lsE4Ac99XthPI2VHqK9T3ya-GTickjykxqV_I/s1600/DSCN2118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyZokQndPByL5duXZjMDCOq55TJSfWUwACrlm5WrKZmpVtdCMWYF-J4XL-Sk_OHXGiZ5TXDRtcWGBdw2CAKNS50ErZsxs1XgMF1oB7g_2lsE4Ac99XthPI2VHqK9T3ya-GTickjykxqV_I/s640/DSCN2118.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anais.</td></tr>
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</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-29347418402962850672011-04-06T16:20:00.000+05:302011-04-06T16:20:08.426+05:30North Tour Part Nine; Sarnath and Bodhgaya<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Once everyone else was up and we'd had breakfast we left Varanasi for Bodhgaya which is where Lord Buddha first became enlightened. On the way we stopped in Sarnath which is the location where Buddha gave his first official sermon. We visited a temple and museum in Sarnath before moving on. We reached Bodhgaya in the evening we there was really only time for dinner before I passed out from a long day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> The next day we got up before breakfast and visited the main temple in Bodhgaya which is built in the sight that Buddha first sat until we received enlightenment, he then returned to that point several times in his life. Bodhgaya is also home to many other temples built by different countries with significant Buddhist populations. Unfortunately all the other temples were on strike due to power cuts so we couldn't visit. When Bodhgaya is probably more important to the Buddhist population as a whole than Dharmsala, it was the latter that felt more spiritual and peaceful. It felt like Bodhgaya had become too much of a tourist destination and that feeling overpowered the feeling of a religious destination.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnWNcScAb757xlp2bGHDFuu6U45IG046znIQZo69ARUTu2lKVVxqKW1QPqLmhmkwj7GrGKfouv9GEs65nAEusk5u47vJ7zpGxPc8gvixRIALlyuaUkVHye0hz-fhaDyEzgCrejDlUWprA/s1600/DSCN1945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnWNcScAb757xlp2bGHDFuu6U45IG046znIQZo69ARUTu2lKVVxqKW1QPqLmhmkwj7GrGKfouv9GEs65nAEusk5u47vJ7zpGxPc8gvixRIALlyuaUkVHye0hz-fhaDyEzgCrejDlUWprA/s640/DSCN1945.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The temple built for Buddha in Sarnath.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXl6Atj1tRgiP3GotPtf2ygPJ-6hJnqqAWKtF6bZb4XWufp-pBhsN67IkZDsdENQUAu4yF2ibtCdwrJe15k-3gb1OyvEQiNACDaXN2OPsW6_-4pWS4N5qDGcBSGgKzKdmh2XjY0GqXcvI/s1600/DSCN1953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXl6Atj1tRgiP3GotPtf2ygPJ-6hJnqqAWKtF6bZb4XWufp-pBhsN67IkZDsdENQUAu4yF2ibtCdwrJe15k-3gb1OyvEQiNACDaXN2OPsW6_-4pWS4N5qDGcBSGgKzKdmh2XjY0GqXcvI/s640/DSCN1953.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To the right of the temple in Sarnath there is a tree that's a third generation descendant of the original fig tree that Buddha sat under before enlightenment.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPGKoSh3_uM_OVmWD5NKB0rp1kH-9VvXsaGtBKaCuXank9ztf2KLk5TTw-Yh4D5ak_2rMDYzvQrZmWuvA8D8XWnjyqEovrRIEPpGhu7zxyFHW8lD7XMHTTOlFzb31XgNljUU2JiDGMKst/s1600/DSCN1954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPGKoSh3_uM_OVmWD5NKB0rp1kH-9VvXsaGtBKaCuXank9ztf2KLk5TTw-Yh4D5ak_2rMDYzvQrZmWuvA8D8XWnjyqEovrRIEPpGhu7zxyFHW8lD7XMHTTOlFzb31XgNljUU2JiDGMKst/s640/DSCN1954.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cousin of the tree in Sarnath, this tree is also a third generation descendant but it actually stands in the same place the original fig tree did in Bodhgaya.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFKS97-mmxhyQOorGls7Qi8uJo4RzCktwhSpSq1enAuiuQRqxPoQ5LzPmwQpssxHwPzeDcHDlIGRhjVxz0d9zzb8KmC2O1TyvRXcCiHRXGGIrg2FrXTNBdRDI_qwqgodNyd8OiHb4yxBb2/s1600/DSCN1958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFKS97-mmxhyQOorGls7Qi8uJo4RzCktwhSpSq1enAuiuQRqxPoQ5LzPmwQpssxHwPzeDcHDlIGRhjVxz0d9zzb8KmC2O1TyvRXcCiHRXGGIrg2FrXTNBdRDI_qwqgodNyd8OiHb4yxBb2/s640/DSCN1958.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The side of the Bodhgaya temple.</td></tr>
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</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-16865352932794283072011-04-05T20:01:00.000+05:302011-04-05T20:01:48.992+05:30North Tour Part Eight; Varanasi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> It's more than a 12 hour train ride form Agra to Varanasi, one of the holiest and most opium using cities in India. Varanasi is also one of the most popular cities for people to bring their dead for cremation. There is a flame that has been burning for 5,000 years in one of the temples that is used to light the funeral pyres.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> By the time we left the train station and got to the hotel we had enough time to freshen up and get something to eat before we went to an arti prayer session on the ghats along the river. After the ceremony we spent an hour or so walking around shopping and seeing the market. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> The next morning we had the option to get up early and see the sunrise in a boat on the river. Only Hannah, Franzi and I got up on time. The pictures below are from the morning, it gave me another chance to play with my camera on different settings in different light. We road in the boat down the river and then got out and walked back to where our cars were. Varanasi is a really old city so the walk back took us through old and winding streets not even big enough for a single car. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ghats before sunrise.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaVPO98zUFvjmpJwWFbQcEPdnyJsDKOzz0JNy0t6vUq2_jyuwMYIinVlwECbqTTVRQZPb4upeWjzVrWyeHKDW3iLYsDRth37Dkz9YAJI0QQy2Hew14dviCNmM2Hxc0KB2quNVc72E2krP5/s1600/DSCN1903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaVPO98zUFvjmpJwWFbQcEPdnyJsDKOzz0JNy0t6vUq2_jyuwMYIinVlwECbqTTVRQZPb4upeWjzVrWyeHKDW3iLYsDRth37Dkz9YAJI0QQy2Hew14dviCNmM2Hxc0KB2quNVc72E2krP5/s640/DSCN1903.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A funeral pyre.</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuybXgsPvLnmRcJo3b6eZbBmAPheAaxquF0O1V8kHURDETs-Ong556tf_mSlSWIjrQ8v_QWlSyLdpSRwGQxOSXpvT8RlfBg0MKH4Go_LHuxnjZgdbX0Vp7AisReVZCkPKYneWUzB5WHaVN/s1600/DSCN1939.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuybXgsPvLnmRcJo3b6eZbBmAPheAaxquF0O1V8kHURDETs-Ong556tf_mSlSWIjrQ8v_QWlSyLdpSRwGQxOSXpvT8RlfBg0MKH4Go_LHuxnjZgdbX0Vp7AisReVZCkPKYneWUzB5WHaVN/s640/DSCN1939.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br />
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</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-64751818658915229592011-04-04T21:23:00.001+05:302011-04-05T19:07:24.798+05:30North Tour Part Seven; Argra (Taj Mahal and monkey business)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Leaving Delhi we were woken up at 4 in the morning by a hotel worker bringing us chai in our rooms before we headed to the train station. We took a commuter/ tourist train to Agra a few hours away. Amanda and I occupied our time by doing sudoko and cross word puzzles in the provided newspapers. Upon arrival, we went straight to Agra's main attraction, the Taj Mahal where we spent two hours wandering around. Most of that time was spent fooling around taking pictures and sitting on the cool marble in the shadow of the Taj. Again, the Taj Mahal excited Amanda a lot because of her Mughal obsession. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> To be honest, the Taj Mahal was not the most exciting thing we saw of did on the tour. It's a world famous sight and a person visiting India is expected to see it. The whole building is exactly symmetrical and the inlaid work is extremely detailed but the inside was dark and the decoration was by far not the most awesome that we saw on the tour. We once asked our tour guide, RK what his least favorite part of the tour was and his answer was Agra. He dislikes the city and the crowdedness, has seen the Taj Mahal dozens of times, and says there aren't many other sights worth seeing in Agra so when asked which city he'd cut out of the tour if he could he immediately said Agra. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> I think what's amazing about the Taj Mahal is its architecture combined with it's history. The Taj is a tomb for a Mughal empress who died giving birth to her 14th child. Her husband built had the Taj Mahal built in her honor out of white marble and intended to have an identical one of black marble built for himself. However, he was over thrown by a son and held captive until his death and his tomb was never built. The empress isn't actually buried in the Taj it was built to honor her but also as a decoy for enemies of the empire.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Everyone was very tired by midday and when we stopped for lunch I actually dozed off at the table. Our other stop of the day was Agra Fort another relic of the Mughal Empire. The fort tour took less than an hour so we had much time to kill before we had to be at the train station at 11. We chose a grassy spot near the exit of the fort to relax. We played games, chatted and slept for a few hours. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> At one point, I was sitting with a few friends on a concrete ledge talking when a group of monkeys wandered by. We'd seen the monkeys all afternoon and had been watching them for a little bit as I'm sure they'd been watching us so were not at all fazed when the came near us. Jordan had a tuft of grass in his hand and decided to see if the monkey would come near and eat it. When it didn't he tossed the grass away lightly in the direction of the monkey. Up until now, the monkey had been indifferent to our actions. All of a sudden it took offense and jumped on all fours baring its teeth and hissing, not at Jordan, but at me who was sitting next to him. Everyone else backed away but every time I moved it lunged closer. I finally got up and walked a little ways away keeping an eye on the monkey who made a beeline for my purse which I'd left lying on the ground. I tried to shoo it but that just made the monkey more upset. Instead of taking my whole purse, which I was afraid it would, the monkey sat down, opened it, and started rummaging through it. At this point we were all laughing hysterically despite the situation. I was also a little worried. I had two cameras, my wallet, cell phone, i-pod, and passport in my purse. Instead of going for any of those things, the monkey pulled out a paper wrapped marble inlaid box that I'd just bought. In one more attempt to get him to leave my things alone I threw my scarf at the monkey which just got tangled in its legs as it ran away. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Once the monkey was free of my scarf he ran away box still in hand. Several meters away, he sat down looked at me and began unwrapping the box as he would a banana of other fruit. Once the box was unwrapped the monkey looked at it confused once it assured that it wasn't edible left it. Before one of us could retrieve the box another monkey ran up and grabbed my box and looking at it, decided it might be food so to test this theory he tried to take a bite of it. On begin unable to eat the hard marble he dropped it and all the monkeys ran away. So now I have a marble box with monkey teeth marks and a scarf covered in monkey germs that doesn't wash... as well as a good story to tell when I get home.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLhrf-N1P3oXnCNtNFJbGei6XEU4bOp1h0yyDtiBIsD5vH1bp_cfZ19mUihkkxvaCZjaSdxfYvhWlH-TgtD92sMYurpqLowciFtv3BlcjiwdWIs4zXgsD0l0iPCdgMQ-R2ymxXQ3mcSERc/s1600/DSCN1670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLhrf-N1P3oXnCNtNFJbGei6XEU4bOp1h0yyDtiBIsD5vH1bp_cfZ19mUihkkxvaCZjaSdxfYvhWlH-TgtD92sMYurpqLowciFtv3BlcjiwdWIs4zXgsD0l0iPCdgMQ-R2ymxXQ3mcSERc/s640/DSCN1670.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The entry to the main Taj Mahal complex.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPX3vZBNLRFIo_6yipj5kWnWaPwvhsQBJIsafy6hKuzeZZqbYa0sp3VjJuGmIdWU1EQmfDNhZzSfXlGxOc2G7OjLLHVNj8z9R4uSHsfR-AhyphenhyphenZ-ogkIUnNYXlTXCIEeKB0I8a5ljpz89Cw_/s1600/DSCN1681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPX3vZBNLRFIo_6yipj5kWnWaPwvhsQBJIsafy6hKuzeZZqbYa0sp3VjJuGmIdWU1EQmfDNhZzSfXlGxOc2G7OjLLHVNj8z9R4uSHsfR-AhyphenhyphenZ-ogkIUnNYXlTXCIEeKB0I8a5ljpz89Cw_/s640/DSCN1681.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amanda in front of the Taj.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8AHlHUE8WloX3hjbVQhMxrFPc4ieIwAjDS4iaQrTZyB1fN3OnJzIYVeCbTtwu_XJJmxZtFOE_f-WILFsyWOJcwePyie8Ur64FTj2LWFspiB0_ftU4BbGtwMvFG6vX_tk91n6YwmD4QCQ/s1600/DSCN1682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8AHlHUE8WloX3hjbVQhMxrFPc4ieIwAjDS4iaQrTZyB1fN3OnJzIYVeCbTtwu_XJJmxZtFOE_f-WILFsyWOJcwePyie8Ur64FTj2LWFspiB0_ftU4BbGtwMvFG6vX_tk91n6YwmD4QCQ/s640/DSCN1682.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Again...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsEZNliuJmTnDOiAV1ctIYQgCI_kS_7viE0zrN1idGswswCHQCiXikqOvLTt5fnl6VdRNKHy0jCLMFekb7fy4bGGpsPKwotKm122kYVT3gm-7hFX6TRyvPeSgmX5xd7DUjCLw9pbKiRTf/s1600/DSCN1683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsEZNliuJmTnDOiAV1ctIYQgCI_kS_7viE0zrN1idGswswCHQCiXikqOvLTt5fnl6VdRNKHy0jCLMFekb7fy4bGGpsPKwotKm122kYVT3gm-7hFX6TRyvPeSgmX5xd7DUjCLw9pbKiRTf/s640/DSCN1683.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amanda and Jordan, two of my best exchange student friends...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB9ME9TnFb8Qf7p9MmjTN6Lfvlut9pARi778tzq7Fc2tJ1zbiQEapzE0LedDVFSehLGr5OoHsnwPtX_p1yoD-ugBMA3StLXJXvOTuS1FnEcJYpflXBC24ND4UCTFVF5sTb8mdkOjEZA3uI/s1600/DSCN1690.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB9ME9TnFb8Qf7p9MmjTN6Lfvlut9pARi778tzq7Fc2tJ1zbiQEapzE0LedDVFSehLGr5OoHsnwPtX_p1yoD-ugBMA3StLXJXvOTuS1FnEcJYpflXBC24ND4UCTFVF5sTb8mdkOjEZA3uI/s640/DSCN1690.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fooling around in front of the Taj Mahal.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNoP6BtfIYO3j5DTHAMqSs1v12e2yjVXNqeOpitDrqK4OVe8_G2YGKt7pyY7vmFZAwH-RvYls_NTcp0ZEAOMHJI0H0MapLDae9G8rjcbP2e5PJS9MYFCV8VniFu9bEpHhaEpvqk2pgMeTl/s1600/DSCN1694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNoP6BtfIYO3j5DTHAMqSs1v12e2yjVXNqeOpitDrqK4OVe8_G2YGKt7pyY7vmFZAwH-RvYls_NTcp0ZEAOMHJI0H0MapLDae9G8rjcbP2e5PJS9MYFCV8VniFu9bEpHhaEpvqk2pgMeTl/s640/DSCN1694.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Again...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbsrC4z5nHXc-MxYyD7mNu7Z501oU4bypF_IpYi231LGryBCrqpa3huk0oR135w24nCxwkPwc8j1GYWQ7-jVU2Iv7FMAms7y0XvJtaRFXOXRxAlpvOSD_ef3cn8JOJWDhti3UKZkdFQM0c/s1600/DSCN1695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbsrC4z5nHXc-MxYyD7mNu7Z501oU4bypF_IpYi231LGryBCrqpa3huk0oR135w24nCxwkPwc8j1GYWQ7-jVU2Iv7FMAms7y0XvJtaRFXOXRxAlpvOSD_ef3cn8JOJWDhti3UKZkdFQM0c/s640/DSCN1695.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posing?</td></tr>
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</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-91478448736575493192011-04-03T13:20:00.000+05:302011-04-03T13:20:27.914+05:30North Tour Part Six; Delhi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;">On the way from Rishikesh to Delhi we stopped at one of India's holiest sights, the official start of the holy water in the river Ganga. This is the place where the holy nectar first mixes with the waters so that everywhere downstream from there is considered a holy place.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> We arrived in Delhi later than planned on the evening of the 12th so we missed the originally planned sightseeing. Instead, we went straight to out hotel and then a group of us went out for dinner and window shopping in Asia's biggest street market. </div><div style="text-align: center;">The next day we woke up early in order to beat the sightseeing and commuting rush. We had a hired guide who drove with us on the bus to point out notable buildings we passed. We did a drive-by of the President's house and parliament buildings. We saw politicians' houses and parks dedicated to famous people. The president's house was massive, much larger and more elaborate than the White House which seems funny since the Indian president is not as important to politics as the American one. Our first stop where we got out and looked around was the India Gate which I'd seen in movies and pictures before. The gate played a very important part in a recent Bollywood movie called "No One Killed Jessica"</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFg4GfRjhfYy7xno-lgCsiAmxGXv65hZhT_6-P7wXDj38oclAK2Ik-WtrvqRGY1t7gO-28mvLI81WvZVFQCR3NF8WoBrqpkgN9QQ3yMsio703X7JHPctitrySGjlubgEaC58oAcHFzVLF/s1600/DSCN1564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFg4GfRjhfYy7xno-lgCsiAmxGXv65hZhT_6-P7wXDj38oclAK2Ik-WtrvqRGY1t7gO-28mvLI81WvZVFQCR3NF8WoBrqpkgN9QQ3yMsio703X7JHPctitrySGjlubgEaC58oAcHFzVLF/s640/DSCN1564.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The India Gate.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">The India Gate is inscribed with the names of hundred of soldiers who lost their lives in World War One and the Third Anglo-Afghan War. As of independence, the gate also acts as India's Tomb of the Unknown Soldier so in the middle there's a every burning flame, a lone gun and helmet with guards standing salute.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUD8x7GeUEuNtXJ5ycisRC-7VkxDPhejnMSMD17OPloOFG1A4iPCrpuAsYGV4_DMhDd1hjN0UaYPpeL7tmpDqq7XgUPmpA8WtK8aSee17I-OrOU-9q7Y7kp0Z3EQGfVZjfuZkqmokFVXQX/s1600/DSCN1569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUD8x7GeUEuNtXJ5ycisRC-7VkxDPhejnMSMD17OPloOFG1A4iPCrpuAsYGV4_DMhDd1hjN0UaYPpeL7tmpDqq7XgUPmpA8WtK8aSee17I-OrOU-9q7Y7kp0Z3EQGfVZjfuZkqmokFVXQX/s640/DSCN1569.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Our second stop was Red Fort which I didn't take pictures of because there was a camera fee. My friend Amanda has done a lot of reading about the Mughal empire which once ruled much of India and she was beyond excited to see the sights where everything she'd read about actually happened. The fort was one of those places where you try to imagine what it must have been like in its prime, when hundreds of people lived there and history was made. </div><div style="text-align: center;">After the fort we took a long, hot bus ride through Delhi to Qutub Minar which also dates back to the Mughal empire. That's about as much as I can tell you about it though because by this time everyone was very hot and tired and in need of a break and a cold drink so I didn't end up paying that much attention...</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPhzANqfp_U3zILAV5W_I0p0lATxwcCAhxSNzyBqXdyokvSNO-AYLuYLQdqhKVQdSV1v6KcpmdRrnOYJooHlIZfL1jcQq1r7B6GcENwrNcBr6isAi6omm-LxGvFx76nl8j5y8gTm6sSXb/s1600/DSCN1595.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPhzANqfp_U3zILAV5W_I0p0lATxwcCAhxSNzyBqXdyokvSNO-AYLuYLQdqhKVQdSV1v6KcpmdRrnOYJooHlIZfL1jcQq1r7B6GcENwrNcBr6isAi6omm-LxGvFx76nl8j5y8gTm6sSXb/s640/DSCN1595.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">After a stop for snacks and coffee we went to the Lotus Temple. The Lotus Temple is the most famous and most prominent house of worship for people of the Baha'i faith. Baha'i is the world's fastest growing religion and its goal is to unite all the world's religions, races, and peoples into one universal Cause and in one common Faith. The Lotus Temple was probably the most crowded sight we went to all day due to a combination of the time of day and the popularity of the attraction. </div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSM9DPZ8myVEcc71liwX_fD0Y56c3rgQIj_Ln6mKSSl_jB4yZQyBkQmAFtqh0mmvvS_4GLRPAydF2kjhNwrmlQoEHk_xGd4b0GI4FDPnWcV7sDT4egS_hcr2Sk8bczk6rrwAWu3hmdzdd/s1600/DSCN1657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSM9DPZ8myVEcc71liwX_fD0Y56c3rgQIj_Ln6mKSSl_jB4yZQyBkQmAFtqh0mmvvS_4GLRPAydF2kjhNwrmlQoEHk_xGd4b0GI4FDPnWcV7sDT4egS_hcr2Sk8bczk6rrwAWu3hmdzdd/s640/DSCN1657.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Lotus Temple</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">Our last stop of the day was the temple that we were supposed to go to the day before. It's the biggest Hindu temple in India but also a fairly new one (only about 10 years old). This is where we ate a late lunch and then spent time wandering around the temple. Before we could do that though, we has to get in. There were about 12 lanes of lines that combined into 8 lanes which passes through a series of security check points. The crowd was colossal but the amount of people let in at a time was regulated. People compared our wait in line to standing in line at Disney World waiting to get into a ride in your sixth hour there. After seeing the entire intricately decorated temple we sat around playing silly games waiting for a light and sound show to start. It was really beautiful, the show consisted of water fountains and jets which were lit up with colored lights and accompanied by music. Instead of driving back to the hotel, we went back by Delhi's metro system.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-28046340343035216502011-04-03T00:56:00.000+05:302011-04-03T00:56:49.356+05:30Jai India!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;">It's midnight and the whole country is one big party. </div><div style="text-align: center;">For the first time in 28 years India has won the cricket world cup! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Today was the big day that India played Sri Lanka for the world cup. The toss deciding who bats and who fields first was at 2:30. I was invited to Ritu Grover's for the game so my sister dropped me off on the way to her own party. The exchange students had all bought India jerseys that we wore in honor of the game. To be honest I think that the beginning portion of a cricket game is pretty boring. The way a game works is that the team that wins the toss decides if they want to bat of field first. Then, unlike baseball which works in innings, the first teams bats all the way through and then the second team bats. Today Sri Lanka won the toss and opted to bat first by the end of their round they had scored 275 runs, which I guess is pretty high. I still don't know a lot about cricket but I understand the basics thanks to people's explanations. It was uncertain at the half which way the game would go but for the last 20 minutes of the game it was sure that India would win and even the last hour of so things were looking pretty good for us. In the late evening we left Ritu's and went with her to a hotel nearby where we all watched the game on a giant screen and ate catered dinner. Every time someone scored a significant amount of runs or made a nice hit people would jump up and start dancing, beating drums, and waving flags. The enthusiasm increased through out the night due to excitement but also due the increased amount of alcohol. In the last little bit of the game when it was really clear that India was going to win, in fact there was almost no way that India couldn't win people were non-stop dancing so much that in order to see the screen you had to stand up. Driving home too was quite and adventure. The main streets were filled with motorcycles and two-wheelers waving Indian flags and with people standing on the back shouting. There were cars with people hanging out the windows and in the streets in several spots people congregated to dance and shout. The longer these groups were there the bigger they got as people on their motorcycles stopped to join in. India is a very patriotic country and more importantly a cricket loving country so when the countries team wins the world cup people go crazy. Chants for the team and for India in general were everywhere. Oh, and don't forget the fireworks and crackers. I think that there as just as many as there were on Diwali, maybe even more...</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's really late here and I'm tired so I'm going to stop there and go to bed...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-22515567873096151472011-04-01T20:19:00.000+05:302011-04-01T20:19:56.194+05:30North Tour Part Five; Manali a Rishekesh<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> After the morning prayer at the ashram we drove almost all day to Manali even higher in the mountains. The drive was beautiful and people kept comparing it to mountain ranges back home. Because I grew up in the Green Mountains I couldn't say that these craggy, snow covered peaks reminded me of home but they did remind me of mountains I've visited in the western United States. Almost everyone slept most of the way but in the evening we were all awake we played truth or dare which really was just truth since we were on a bus. We got bored of truth and decided to play MASH which is a game I hadn't played for a long long time it was very entertaining. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> The next day we got up in the morning and bundled up for a drive up into the snow. When we were almost there we had to stop and wait for the road to be cleared so we all got out and played in the snow on the side of the road. For some people it was their first time in years being in the snow and for others it was a chance to rejoice in something that is usually an integral part of our lives. Once the road was clear we proceeded up until we reached a resort area filled with people. It was the base for all sorts of commercial winter activities like tubing, skiing, snowmobiling, sledding, etc. all at extremely high prices. Several of us considered skiing but at the prices that were being charged compared to the quality and age of equipment provided we decided against it. We mostly played in the snow and sat enjoying the fresh, crisp air. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Our afternoon was spent in a natural hot-spring bathing area. The women's area was walled of and consisted of a main pool that drained into four spouts below for bathing in. We spent a while soaking in there and by the time we got out the temperature had dropped, the sun was gone, and it was starting to drizzle. We briefly visited a temple and monastery before hurrying back to the hotel, showering and snuggling under electric blankets (a new novelty for me).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> The next day (the 10th) we spent all day on the bus driving to Rishekesh and stopped in Shimla on the way for dinner. We arrived in time for breakfast on the 11th after over 18 hours of driving. We stayed outside of the city in a base camp of tents built on a beach along the the Ganges and a tributary to it. When we arrived we changed into warm weather and water clothes and dipped our toes into the freezing water. We ended up having a photo shoot of sorts on the rocks and bridge. After lunch we set out on a two hour white water rafting trip on the Ganges which was a lot of fun. The water was freezing as a good portion of it is glacial melt but that didn't stop us from jumping in when the chance was provided. When we arrived at the end point we changed into dry and decent clothing before driving into town for and evening of prayer and shopping. We attended an arti at Parmarth Ashram where there were a lot of foreigners.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In my mind, there are three kinds of foreigners in India:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1) The "Spiritual Journey Travelers." They are the people for wear flowing clothing and baggy pants that they think are Indian while most Indians dress much like we do on a daily basis. Unfortunately when trying to be Indian or respectful these people tend to overlook important things, especially the women, like covering shoulders, chest, or stomach. When they're in prayers or visiting a place of worship someone on a spiritual journey will close their eyes and sway and tend to have a perfect, blissful smile on their face. A Spiritual Journey-ist tells you they are not a tourist, and will go on and on about how amazing India is without ever seeing what I call real India. They also travel from place to place with a backpack, never a suitcase. These are the most annoying type of tourist for me because they can often be self-righteous about being in India, they think it's very special and they're being different by coming here.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2) The "Westerner." While almost all foreigners in India are westerners there are some who are Western with a capital W. Westerners visit the famous and touristy places only. They can be picked out of a crowd not because of their fair hair and skin but by the group of Indian men following them. Westerners were short shorts, tank tops, and low cut shirts. I've seen many that are wearing something that I would never even think about wearing sightseeing in America of Europe let alone in India. There are two things I think of when I see people like this. The first is that they ought to be aware of the safety risk they're running and that they could be offending others. I also wonder if this is what Indians think of me and the rest of my exchange students friends, the image that these Westerners is creating doesn't help the native's vision of us as a whole. Sometimes it's no wonder Indians (men especially) expect us to be easy and expect us to respond to their comments and calls on the streets.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">3) I can't think of a name for the last group. This group encompasses the foreigners who dress appropriately but also who respect India while recognizing the negative aspects of it. You'll that almost any foreigner who lives in India falls into this category. The tourists who fall into this category may stay on the beaten path and visit purely tourist destinations but they can also be found in place like Indore where there are very few white people and even fewer attractions of any kind. They may not be comfortable in their environment but they are aware of it and the pros and cons of their actions.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxPBC2jR6pSQEezkWiSgaC6WASMg-3z1FJXttbVPTh9ZOeqSFuV-_jjSuOnPGXxfXNNGmosIf_AuC5OkHWDTG1eGTOr22YXVx3P4p_ggBXnCpwMX53PhnPdcxQ_xRT7vqnTb3vKXWTxadV/s1600/DSCN1508.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxPBC2jR6pSQEezkWiSgaC6WASMg-3z1FJXttbVPTh9ZOeqSFuV-_jjSuOnPGXxfXNNGmosIf_AuC5OkHWDTG1eGTOr22YXVx3P4p_ggBXnCpwMX53PhnPdcxQ_xRT7vqnTb3vKXWTxadV/s640/DSCN1508.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Manali.</td></tr>
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</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-6821816318776203442011-03-31T22:05:00.000+05:302011-03-31T22:05:25.065+05:30Cricket Craze<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;">"Cricket is the biggest religion in India" </div><div style="text-align: center;">-Ipshita Nayyar (my host sister)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"> I had planned on focusing on the tour for the next week or so but I feel that cricket deserves attention. I've been told that in India even if you don't watch the game you can tell the next day if India won a cricket match because everyone you meet is in a better mood. Yesterday was the semi-final game between India and Pakistan. It was probably the biggest game of the whole series for Indians even though we're playing in the finals on Thursday. India and Pakistan are not only neighbors but also VERY big rivals. Pakistan was the first team in about 35 games to beat Australia a few weeks ago so when India played Australia we just HAD to beat them to prove that we could do it too. I was in Calcutta for the India-Australia game. The game was on in the hotel room but I wasn't really paying attention since I don't know a thing about cricket. The door to the room I was in was open to the street below and when even though I wasn't been watching I could tell whenever something good happened because people would cheer so loudly I could here them. All the hotel staff were in a room across from ours watching the game too and we could here their reactions as well. When we won the game people started cheering and dancing in the streets. Fireworks and firecrackers were even set off. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> Yesterday was an even bigger deal. I have to confess though that I didn't even know there was a game until I got the the mall to meet friends and that's all that people were doing. There were signs and decorations all over the mall and a big message board where people used markers and pens to write their thoughts and encouragements. There are also boxes with each team's name on them where people can try to predict the winning team. Sitting on top of the boxes is a stuffed animal octopus that's supposed to represent the octopus that correctly predicted the winners of the FIFA Cup every time. The boxes seem silly because I know that there is no way I would want to be caught betting on any team other than India with all the national supporters around.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> In the cafe: the game was on and the workers and patrons focused all their attention on the TV. When giving orders we had to repeat ourselves because the waiter was distracted by the game. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> In Big Bazar (sort of like a Wal-Mart type store): the game was on and the workers and shoppers tended to congregate around the display for TVs for sale. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> In McDonalds: the game was on and people crammed into the tables that could see the TV and stayed long after they had finished their food. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> In the food court: the game was on and packs of people were watching. Every time something happened you could tell by the loud reactions coming from the open top floor even when we were all the way on the bottom floor. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> The sports bar: jammed full, of course.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> People were either hurrying to finish shopping so that they could get home to watch the game or lingering in the shops that had access to a television. We were sitting outside when the first half (the most important half for India) finished and everyone started leaving the mall, it was surprising how many people had lingered to watch the game as thoroughly as possible. Almost every school and many colleges had early dismissal because of the game.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> I was home for the end of the game which my family watched. Even before it was over, there was a very very low chance that we would lose so people were setting of fireworks in the streets. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> People can barely contain their anticipation for Saturday when we'll play Sri Lanka for the cup.</div></div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-90733949251248070292011-03-31T20:22:00.000+05:302011-03-31T20:22:46.775+05:30North Tour Part Four; Dharmsala<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We drove all night from Amritsar up to Dharmsala over winding, bumpy, and very cold roads to arrive shivering at 2 or 3 in the morning. The hotel we stayed in was very nice, my room was the "luxury suite." Unfortunately it was a luxury suit without running water... The other rooms had no hot water, our room had no water at all. That didn't really matter though since we all crawled into bed and passed out. The next morning the water was fixed (sort of) and we bundled up to head out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dharmsala maybe my favorite place in India. It's beautiful, peaceful, and the weather was perfect for my Vermonter body. It's no wonder that Dharmsala is now the refuge home to the Dalai Lama and hundreds of other Tibetan Buddhists. We walked up to a waterfall in the morning and then proceeded to the ashram where His Holiness the Dalai Lama lives. Where we spent time watching the monks pray and go about their daily routines. It was an extremely moving experience for everyone but Serenity, more than anyone was affected. Serenity was born and raised a Tibetan Buddhist in Korea by a Korean mother and an Italia father who is now a professor in Florida specializing in Buddhism. The rest of the afternoon and evening were spent wandering around the city shopping and exploring. We ate lots and lots of momos which are Tibetan dumplings you can get on the side of the road either steamed or fried. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The next morning we were scheduled to leave but first we got up early and went back to the ashram to join the monks in their morning prayer. I found it kind of difficult to sit still for so long but it was an experience totally worth it, the Dalai Lama was even in attendance! I can now say that I prayed with the Dalai Lama!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdWX-dCLr5xV_-J_rAFjyWT_NTuO-wS5u3mz3r1FinH3wxTjeaEas1BliR7CIxGeb2niz57C2-O5AAvHXAYRsqp0sUwuoGu0CC_YhPAex6t7zb65eyIKDNEnbPzDr-aZSRAmAmDqKhtPTP/s1600/DSCN1451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdWX-dCLr5xV_-J_rAFjyWT_NTuO-wS5u3mz3r1FinH3wxTjeaEas1BliR7CIxGeb2niz57C2-O5AAvHXAYRsqp0sUwuoGu0CC_YhPAex6t7zb65eyIKDNEnbPzDr-aZSRAmAmDqKhtPTP/s640/DSCN1451.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prayer wheels in the ashram.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monks chatting in the late morning.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfQQnCBPnPc_su_5cQ-8Wyn3152nBPIQowKGLXCTx42TcKQ4oAvkTtje8MuxONyWfBNnYC_n1IAiiNYKDK7cwFxV0CDfBTSZnCV19bz5gLCgdAtpW2W-cf3L9VgjaoqA2AHeeLucPBYVK/s1600/DSCN1490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfQQnCBPnPc_su_5cQ-8Wyn3152nBPIQowKGLXCTx42TcKQ4oAvkTtje8MuxONyWfBNnYC_n1IAiiNYKDK7cwFxV0CDfBTSZnCV19bz5gLCgdAtpW2W-cf3L9VgjaoqA2AHeeLucPBYVK/s640/DSCN1490.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view from the wrap around porch at the ashram.</td></tr>
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</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-59178668685952022782011-03-30T11:20:00.000+05:302011-03-30T11:20:02.885+05:30North Tour Part Three; Amritsar<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">From Jaisalmer we traveled to Jodhpur, the blue city where we only spent one day sightseeing before getting on a train for Amritsar. Amritsar in in the state of Punjab, home of the sikh religion, and is where the Golden Temple is located. The Golden Temple is the most important temple in the Sikh religion.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The main entrance to the temple compound and the pool around it.</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">The compound and the temple itself were extremely crowded and we had to stand in line for about an hour packed in closely hundreds of hot and sweaty temple goers. I don't think I've ever been so closely packed with so many strangers. It was a very interesting experience and sort of bonding because you knew all the people are were surrounded by had to deal with the heat and close quarters too. I shared the last of my water with an elderly lady who I had exchanged a few words with. The inside of the temple was packed with people so that in someways I couldn't see how people who come to worship in their religion's most holy place find the peace and space to worship. At the same time, the temple is a very special place and you could feel it. Amanda and I are the only ones who live with a Sikh family and for us the visit was even more special because we have a connection to the temple.</div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The temple is out in the pond with only the one pathway to it. The whole pathway was jammed with people. </td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">After visiting the temple we went to the India-Pakistan border where there is a big ceremony every evening as the close the border to crossings. Thousands of people gather on the border to cheer for India and to watch the soldiers go through a drill sequence. The chanting and cheering is also aimed at the people in Pakistan who are within hearing distance. It's as much an intimidation ritual as anything else. There were so many people when we got there that we couldn't see over the crowd no matter where we went. From what I could see the border wasn't as built up or blocked as you would expect one of such tension to be. There was only a few barbed wire fences and maybe electric fences.</div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the left in the background is the Hindi name for India, Bharat.</td></tr>
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</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-43609052386224791902011-03-29T16:17:00.000+05:302011-03-29T16:17:11.333+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?id=1442014663&aid=117788">Click here to see my North Tour Facebook album.</a></div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-39407850378165994672011-03-29T16:13:00.000+05:302011-03-29T16:13:14.164+05:30North Tour Part Two: Jaisalmer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYZjLErFRr0qdmYhrWaxQNEIh-o1yy8k9KygivKsl-CHmP1eUmXgjpwtQg9sq1duRJOwba9gQdd0D_fQwoMkAG0n-xUTc0sm76-1uEDUuoib2kvlzcfZhSUGBfozGMmlMOEDAOHGPxp7z/s1600/DSCN1205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYZjLErFRr0qdmYhrWaxQNEIh-o1yy8k9KygivKsl-CHmP1eUmXgjpwtQg9sq1duRJOwba9gQdd0D_fQwoMkAG0n-xUTc0sm76-1uEDUuoib2kvlzcfZhSUGBfozGMmlMOEDAOHGPxp7z/s640/DSCN1205.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Jaisalmer is also known as the golden city because of the golden dunes surrounding the city and the sand colored buildings. We left Jaipur late in the 2nd and spent a long time in the bus on our way to the train station. During that time we all ended up sharing the silly hand clapping games and nonsensical songs that we sang as little kids. Those of us who had attended summer camps knew many of the same ones. The next day upon arriving in Jaisalmer we had a little bit of time in a hotel to freshen up before we headed in to the desert for a night. Our base camp was a low end commercial resort "village." From there we went out on a two hour camel ride into the dunes where we stayed for sunset. Out on the dunes we all got a chance to let energy out and spent a lot of time running and rolling around making sure we got sand in every pocket and piece of clothing possible. We also took a lot of group photos. Unfortunately I didn't dare bring my new camera out into the desert because we had been warned about the affects of wind and sand on them. All the pictures are on another camera that's going to be shared. Rode back to the base camp for some dinner and traditional dancing before we drove back out into the desert to sleep in tents around a campfire and look at the stars. It was another one of those absolutely amazing nights that I've had here when I can't believe where I am and what I'm doing. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The next morning we were woken by a grizzly voiced man telling us to get up and see the sunrise. So we all crawled out of our tents into a biting cold morning and huffed and puffed out way up the dunes. We didn't last long. The desert in the morning has a cold like no other. It teases you because you know that in just a few hours the sun will be burning down and glaring off the sand into your eyes. After breakfast back at the base camp we took another camel ride the brought us a little ways down the road where our jeeps met us to bring us back into town. The rest of the day was spent sightseeing in the local fort and in the evening we went to see the sunset out in boats on a small lake. Unfortunately, because I'm just that lucky, my camera died right before sunset but I did take some really nice pictures on Hannah's camera....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Speaking of pictures, if you want to see more I've put about 200 pictures on Facebook from the tour. It's a lot. The pictures I put here a ones I really like where as the pictures on Facebook are more of friends on other people, silly moments and such. The Facebook pictures also don't have descriptions or anything. If you go to my North Tour album on Facebook the pictures for Jaisalmer are numbers 61 to 100.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioQz8Qoxk87HIwFxkIRVO0R0JNmsDG1k-6Tv7zs2yHBBnOF5nLtggIyrYRheAnv_oUI5PdjXYOw65S_068XBE6odmoow_2gI3NdM-2-vjUuYttT4ktasU_Mvyrzgyu9x2lMUQzgLB6txFx/s1600/DSCN1292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioQz8Qoxk87HIwFxkIRVO0R0JNmsDG1k-6Tv7zs2yHBBnOF5nLtggIyrYRheAnv_oUI5PdjXYOw65S_068XBE6odmoow_2gI3NdM-2-vjUuYttT4ktasU_Mvyrzgyu9x2lMUQzgLB6txFx/s640/DSCN1292.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-30350801516982815752011-03-28T20:23:00.000+05:302011-03-29T16:14:28.433+05:30North Tour Part One; Ujjain and Jaipur<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ujjain was not an official part of the tour but for the Indore students it was still the first leg of the journey. We spent two nights in Ujjain the first night we arrived too late to do anything but order room service and watch several movies such as Harry Potter and Hancock in the room Hannah and I were sharing. Ujjain is mainly a religious city filled with temples and holy waters but not much else. We spent all day the next day with a driver and guide hired by the hotel visiting various spots in the city. Our second day in Ujjain was spent lazing around mostly in the hotel and getting ready to meet the train full of other excited exchange students that evening. There was much yelling, hugs, and chatting when we boarded the train, the last ones to do so. We all squeezed together to exchange news and gossip, it seemed all too soon we were getting dirty looks from fellow passengers who were not as excited by our arrival and simply wanted to sleep before reaching their destination. These looks were nothing new as it seems no matter the time of day or how hard we try our large group of teenagers is never silent enough for other passengers. I didn't feel bad for them but I did feel bad for the one new student on the tour, Samantha from Virginia, she was greeted with a hug from Jordan and after quick introductions I think most of the group forgot her and the fact that she was a newcomer too quickly. No matter, in a few days it felt like she had been one of the group from the very start except when we started playing the "Remember when....." game but even then she was quick to call us out and our conversations would move to more common ground.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On my North Tour Facebook album this post corresponds with pictures 1-60.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken on the ghats along the holy river in Ujjain. </td></tr>
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Jaipur, the Pink City, was our first official stop on the tour. We arrived lazy and tired early in the morning and had a few hours to shower and nap (if we could) before we set out for a full day of sight seeing. This was a true indicator of how the tour would go, it was also a test to see how well would could handle the coming exhaustion and heat and how well we could deal with each other in varying states of tiredness. Jaipur also happened to be where my friend Josephine was staying at the time. Despite our best efforts and several telephone calls we weren't ever able to make our schedules match. Jaipur has a long royal history so there are many palaces and forts in the area.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pigeons circling a giant sundial in a large astronomy observatory built by and ancient king. The sundials all told the exact local time in Jaipur which meant they were off by a little bit on the all India watches. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amber Fort in Jaipur.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the fort several different halls were lined with detailed carving and inlaid mirror work.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTriGVKAtlmW2df8CtApg0SFVJGgIdJGS8jo0MlyEyd9SvhrJNsfUoDaf07JmWuqELWLW1pZa3sFFyhBmw8HKQzXcqRYS5T8POqY67mEmsHLkClXFYyc3h53BCZZ4rBVLBE6Efh-7TxqD/s1600/DSCN1077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTriGVKAtlmW2df8CtApg0SFVJGgIdJGS8jo0MlyEyd9SvhrJNsfUoDaf07JmWuqELWLW1pZa3sFFyhBmw8HKQzXcqRYS5T8POqY67mEmsHLkClXFYyc3h53BCZZ4rBVLBE6Efh-7TxqD/s640/DSCN1077.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Screens like these are common in old forts and palaces. They allow people to look out but not in, they were commonly built for woman to observe comings and goings in private.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside Hawa Mahal (the Wind Palace)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhusjm36abskXN1Fq2qDOJP3szdc3_LITrbsMiU1AtzL52RX5jfkLsXlOFuanHpVH4DArw8cybgZFN8GVA9Q20k72hAbDRxVXbtJSMWpl9eTmCSJ5a_KvYTF7Z4iabnytlUmgFLyHe8zhy1/s1600/DSCN1137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhusjm36abskXN1Fq2qDOJP3szdc3_LITrbsMiU1AtzL52RX5jfkLsXlOFuanHpVH4DArw8cybgZFN8GVA9Q20k72hAbDRxVXbtJSMWpl9eTmCSJ5a_KvYTF7Z4iabnytlUmgFLyHe8zhy1/s640/DSCN1137.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hawa Mahal</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd-hWmpQm4iWB4MtstReJisnZja4Qd3iVX8D7v_yXJrm4dVzt_yjRr0tb7uIBYIQww_X6JNVA624-yzW9tUAhtWGALlJ90Po7Y9CLZnOkJrcQGD5nuLVbt_CvZd9oIm6B96FiFnoZihweZ/s1600/DSCN1163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd-hWmpQm4iWB4MtstReJisnZja4Qd3iVX8D7v_yXJrm4dVzt_yjRr0tb7uIBYIQww_X6JNVA624-yzW9tUAhtWGALlJ90Po7Y9CLZnOkJrcQGD5nuLVbt_CvZd9oIm6B96FiFnoZihweZ/s640/DSCN1163.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The outside of Hawa Mahal. The Wind Palace was built for royal women specifically so they could observe happenings in the main street below such as festivals and parades. Though it doesn't show in the photo the building actually leans towards the street a little allowing those in the top level to have a clear, unobstructed view of the street below. </td></tr>
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</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690393880629381476.post-13506682865994066342011-03-28T18:57:00.000+05:302011-03-28T18:57:50.237+05:30Home Again, Home Again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I arrived home yesterday morning to a much hotter but altogether the same Indore.<br />
I was too tired to even open my computer yesterday but rather slept the whole day away. This morning I severely lacked the motivation to get online dreading the hundreds of email and other tasks I knew awaited me. Luckily that's all taken care of now and my inbox is more or less organized.<br />
I would have been home a day earlier but protests in Delhi cause our train from Calcutta to Nagpur to be delayed by nine hours which meant that a large chunk of the 18 hour train ride was during the day rather than at night. The original plan was to arrive in Nagpur at 2 pm and have an afternoon to relax before catching a 6 o'clock overnight bus to Indore. Instead we ended up spending the night and the majority of the next day in Nagpur. This gave us time to get together and relax with the students who didn't come on the tour and also gave us a last chance to say good-bye to each other as there's a chance that many of us won't see each other for the rest of the year.<br />
I'm not sure how I'm going to deal with talking about the tour because there's so much to say. I think I'll do it like the previous tour and post pictures along with descriptions and highlights of certain parts.<br />
I'll try to put together the first of these posts tonight so I don't end up procrastinating on them. Unfortunately, I have more than a thousand pictures to go through and edit before I can put them up. I've already started. Dealing with the photos is something I dread after tour even more than dealing with my emails because I have thousands that need to be sorted and edited and then I have to go through and select some that will go on facebook or be posted here.<br />
Before I finish up let me also point out that I added another blog link. This one is to my friend Amanda's blog. I haven't had the chance to read it yet but I hear it's amazing because of it she's already had some job offers and there are movie producers reading her blog. The producer of the Batman Dark Knight movie apparently really likes her writing....</div>Kelsey McFaddenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129930556047679885noreply@blogger.com0