Plan: Pune to Ahmedabad, visit Ahmedabad, bus to Udaipur
After spending half a day doing 3 15 minute presentations (why they took that long is a mystery to us both!) we were finally heading to Rajasthan, a State I have been waiting so long to see! We had booked our train ticket from Pune to Ahmedabad a couple of days before and we took a rickshaw to the train station. Once there, we tried to figure out exactly what platform our train was leaving from, but since it wasn’t coming up on any of the electronic screens, we decided to go to the enquiry window to ask. We made our way there and quickly remembered that we were in India…not Canada. There, there was a throng of people, all pushing and shoving each other to try and make their way to the window in order to find answers to their questions! Yan bravely made his way through trying his best to reach the window…fortunately he didn’t need to because he heard another man shouting the same train number as us!! Yan asked him what was going on and the man said that the information would come up later, but that apparently the train was delayed and he didn’t know which platform it would depart from yet. Not wanting to miss our train, we stuck to this guy like glue!!! He had been travelling with multiple family members and accepted that we hang around them until we got an answer. About 20 minutes before departure, we finally learned that it was leaving from platform 3 and quickly made our way!
This was exactly what you’d picture travelling in India to be like. They’ve installed pretty electronic boards with train information but of course none of it was providing any information while we were there, only flashing a pleasant but useless “Welcome to Pune.” First we wandered around the station a little and asked an employee about our train. He seemed to point to the very platform we were on, indicating the train would be here. But this being the first person we had randomly asked, and with a significant language barrier in place, it also seemed a little too good to be true. We kept looking for a sign just in case and eventually gave up, heading to the enquiry counter. Pune is a city of 4 million, with one main train station. This one main train station has exactly one enquiry counter. Ahhhh India! And while every other counter to buy tickets had a semi-proper line formed in front of it, the enquiry counter was literally a mosh-pit of men and women trying squeezing their way to the front of the pack to read something on a board there and to yell out their questions. I nudged my way near the front, worrying about my feet (train stations are a good place to wear shoes) when I thankfully heard that guy yell out the same train number as we were taking. I helped him squeeze through in front of me and ask. Like Emilie said, we then stuck to him like glue and he and his family were pretty amused by this. I followed him when he headed back to the enquiry counter later and lo and behold, a police officer had ordered people to form a line at the enquiry counter. Apparently he didn’t think the pushing and shoving was all that safe. Where were you 15 minutes ago buddy?!? As we waited in line though, I noticed a lot of people budding to the front and by the time we had our answer as to the train, the line had almost dissolved back into a pit.
We found our seats (that convert into beds) and settled in for the journey! It was actually quite pleasant (since little cockroaches definitely don’t bother us after the humongous ones we’ve encountered)! The doors of the train were open and people were enjoying the view from there, the scenery was gorgeous, and of course, people were walking up and down the alleyway selling everything from chai to idli to locks for your bags to toys and jewellery!! Sleeping on the train was actually wonderful, best sleep I had had in a while and before we knew it, it was 3am and we had arrived in Ahmedabad!!
We made our way out of the train, checked our bag in the luggage room and being extremely tired and it only being something like 5am, we headed to the retiring rooms reserved for the sleeper class, found ourselves a nice mettle bench and took a nap! We woke up around 7 am and began our visit of Ahmedabad!
Ahmedabad is Gurajat’s major city and a mini-metropolis. It has a bustling new city feel, but with old world charm architecture. Making our way through the streets, the first thing we spotted, besides cows eating in the trash can (Yan commented saying that while we have raccoons, India has cows!) was the Teen Darwaja also known as the triple gateway. This gate was the gateway into the Royal Square where royal processions and polo games used to take place. Although the gate was supposedly damaged in 2001, it was well repaired because we saw no signs of it!
We made our way through the streets trying to find the Swaminarayan Temple and trying to navigate through the streets using the Lonely Planet map. We finally stopped at a temple thinking it was the right one. A nice man invited us in to visit, talked about the temple a bit, went off to get us some fresh water, and later told us we had the wrong temple but that he would accompany us there. What a nice man! He also showed us his house before leading us to the temple. Once there, we found another man who was speaking with some girls from France about the temple itself. This temple was a grand haveli that dated back to the 1850 and was enclosed in a large and beautiful courtyard!!
After this little explanation, we started to speak with them and before we knew it, Aisha’s roommates showed up! What a coincidence, in a country as large as India, for us to meet people we actually knew!!! We had no idea they were going to be in Ahmedabad! While we had made Ahmedabad our pit stop to Rajasthan, they had made it their pit stop to the north of the State of Gujarat!
After speaking with them, we decided to all head out together to visit the textile museum…but before doing so, the second nice man took us on a little impromptu visit of the temple dedicated to Vishnu. He spoke great English and explained a lot of things to us! Once we got to the temple, he explained to us that many girls came in the morning in order to pray to Vishnu for a rich and healthy husband…and then proceeded to ask me if I was married! Since I wasn’t he got me to pray to the gods as well…I guess we’ll see if it works! He gave us a typical yellow flower and a lotus, blessed by the temple gods for good luck and then asked a boy to get some leaves from a special tree that we were to put in our living room for happiness. He directed us through another entryway where he pointed out a birdfeeder and explained to us that there were a lot of these in Ahmedabad because PIGEONS are considered very special birds and seeds are left for them everywhere for them to eat….PIGEONS!!! LOL! He then stopped, took out
some funky cigarettes, offered some to Yan who politely refused, offered some to me but would not listen to my refusal, and so I ended up smoking a cigarette with this old retiree from Ahmedabad. At this point, he told me, by reading my face, that I would have a very successful career…he also explained to us that we shouldn’t divorce, that in life we were meant to be with one person and that it was important to stay with that person…he also did not understand why we were single…foreign concept to most Indians why two 20 something individuals are not married yet. After finishing our cigarette, we told him that we needed to go the museum because the tour started and he asked us to come back after and he would show us around the streets of Ahmedabad. We agreed and left to meet up with the French group.
We went to grab two rickshaws and made our way to the textile museum. This museum was quite impressive! It contains one of the world’s finest collections of antique and modern Indian textiles. There are actually two parts to the museum and we got to tour both for free! The first is the main textile gallery and the second called Invisible presence: Images and Abodes of Indian Deities, explores the depictions of Indian gods. Quite interesting!
After the tour, we split ways; the French going to the bus stand to catch their next bus and Yan and I to a travel agency in order to book our next bus out of Ahmedabad. We decided to grab a rickshaw and go to one of the recommended travel agencies, got our tickets and then asked the rickshaw driver to drive us to a good and cheap lunch place…when this just didn’t work out (he took us to a really expensive restaurant) we abandoned our driver and stopped at a cheaper lunch place across from our next destination, the Sabarmati Ashram, which is set on a river bank. This Ashram was Gandhi’s headquarters during his long struggle for Indian independence. A little background for those of you who are not familiar with Gandhi and India’s struggle for Independence:
This Ashram was founded in 1915 and was moved to its current site a few years later. It was from here on 12 March 1930 that Gandhi set out on his famous Salt March to the Gulf of Cambay in a symbolic protest. Gandhi’s poignant, Spartan living quarters are preserved and there’s a great pictoral record of his life. This was a very inspiring visit and gave me a great insight to Gandhi’s life and his struggle to help his native land. If you’ve watched the movie Ghandi, you’ll see the Ashram in it and it really looks exactly the same, though I’m not sure whether they shot it on location or not.
Next we headed to the City and Kite museums, both housed in the same building. Neither was spectacular but still fun to go through and permitted us to waste a little time before our bus left!
But before getting on the bus, Yan and I decided to treat ourselves to the best Thali For those of you who don’t know, a Thali is the Indian version of all you can eat! It is comprised of 6 or 7 little dishes that are filled up with different sauces (including dessert!) that are to be eaten with rice, papad and rotis that are continuously being refilled on your plate! As soon as the waiters noticed that one of your dishes, or one of the items is no longer on your plate, they come by and offered you some…take that North American all you can eats!!! Imagine one waiter per item, walking around with a pot of it, constantly at the ready to refill your plate... pure genius! Completely full and satisfied, we took a rickshaw to the bus, settled in and tried to sleep (although I wasn’t too successful at this!!)
Sunday, November 22, 2009
October 13-14 - Wasted days
Plan: Do our required presentations and head back out again
Back from Goa for a quick 2 day stop in Pune, the only reason we came back was to hand in our reports from the court visit and to make 2 presentations each in front of Mme Sakalkhar. We put something together our first day back and headed to school the second morning to present. Of course, we waited for 45 minutes or so while Mme was in a meeting, and then Emilie, Megha, and I got through our presentations as best we could, despite several interruptions from people wanting to see Mme. Something that would have taken 1.5 hours tops in Canada ended up taking 4 here, but that’s just part of the fun that is India! Presentations behind us, we packed again for our next trip to Rajasthan!
Back from Goa for a quick 2 day stop in Pune, the only reason we came back was to hand in our reports from the court visit and to make 2 presentations each in front of Mme Sakalkhar. We put something together our first day back and headed to school the second morning to present. Of course, we waited for 45 minutes or so while Mme was in a meeting, and then Emilie, Megha, and I got through our presentations as best we could, despite several interruptions from people wanting to see Mme. Something that would have taken 1.5 hours tops in Canada ended up taking 4 here, but that’s just part of the fun that is India! Presentations behind us, we packed again for our next trip to Rajasthan!
October 11 and 12 - Arambol beach
Plan: Enjoy the sun!
The next two days consisted of exactly what two days at Arambol Beach should: vegging on the beach in the sun. We ate breakfast both days at this little café that served huge and delicious chocolate croissants and massala tea. Next we would find ourselves a lounge chair on the beach, order a drink, and enjoy the view. Things to watch for included the local fishermen hard at work pulling in their nets from the sea and then extricating the many fish. Next people from all the local restaurants would come up and barter for fresh fish and take away their haul. It was a very interesting sight. Other activities included swimming of course, diving into the waves, and also wake boarding. I’d never done this before and rented a board for an hour. A nice Israeli guy taught me the gist of it and by the end I could comfortably ride a wave (on my stomach of course) for about 10 meters. Pretty cool stuff. Lastly, opportunities for shopping from your lounge chair are just incredible here. Local Indian women would often stroll by, ask if you wanted any jewellery, and if you were remotely interested, they would proceed to unload their entire stash on your lounge chair. We got a pretty good deal on a hippie necklace for me and a toe ring for Em this way. Other shopping opportunities we were less interested in included fresh coconuts, trance music CDs (very popular in Arambol), and drugs (also quite popular). We also decided to take care of ourselves a little bit on the beach. Em got a really crappy pedicure and I got a only slightly less crappy love mom henna tattoo (thanks for the idea Maxime!).
And by crappy pedicure, he means that a 4 year old could’ve done a better job!!! And as for his tattoo, it looked fine until the “artist” drew the heart...it was all downhill from there!
After the sun went down we would head up the main street (the only street really) which was of course lined with shops, and do some more shopping for presents. I also checked out a beach party at one of the local restaurants down the beach but it was mostly a place to chill and not so much to dance. Overall though, we had a very productive 2 days in Arambol evening our tans, relaxing, and shopping. It wasn’t easy to head back on that bus to Mapsa, then Panaji, and finally the night bus to Pune, but somehow we did, because that’s just what 2 studious students like us do.
The next two days consisted of exactly what two days at Arambol Beach should: vegging on the beach in the sun. We ate breakfast both days at this little café that served huge and delicious chocolate croissants and massala tea. Next we would find ourselves a lounge chair on the beach, order a drink, and enjoy the view. Things to watch for included the local fishermen hard at work pulling in their nets from the sea and then extricating the many fish. Next people from all the local restaurants would come up and barter for fresh fish and take away their haul. It was a very interesting sight. Other activities included swimming of course, diving into the waves, and also wake boarding. I’d never done this before and rented a board for an hour. A nice Israeli guy taught me the gist of it and by the end I could comfortably ride a wave (on my stomach of course) for about 10 meters. Pretty cool stuff. Lastly, opportunities for shopping from your lounge chair are just incredible here. Local Indian women would often stroll by, ask if you wanted any jewellery, and if you were remotely interested, they would proceed to unload their entire stash on your lounge chair. We got a pretty good deal on a hippie necklace for me and a toe ring for Em this way. Other shopping opportunities we were less interested in included fresh coconuts, trance music CDs (very popular in Arambol), and drugs (also quite popular). We also decided to take care of ourselves a little bit on the beach. Em got a really crappy pedicure and I got a only slightly less crappy love mom henna tattoo (thanks for the idea Maxime!).
And by crappy pedicure, he means that a 4 year old could’ve done a better job!!! And as for his tattoo, it looked fine until the “artist” drew the heart...it was all downhill from there!
After the sun went down we would head up the main street (the only street really) which was of course lined with shops, and do some more shopping for presents. I also checked out a beach party at one of the local restaurants down the beach but it was mostly a place to chill and not so much to dance. Overall though, we had a very productive 2 days in Arambol evening our tans, relaxing, and shopping. It wasn’t easy to head back on that bus to Mapsa, then Panaji, and finally the night bus to Pune, but somehow we did, because that’s just what 2 studious students like us do.
October 10 - Anjuna and Arambol
The plan: Settle down on the beach, relax and soak up the sun
Today is finally the day where we get to head to Arambol, the beach where we decided to settle down and relax. Arambol is all the way up north; actually it’s the last beach on the northern tip of Goa! But of course, before then, we spent the beginning of our day bussing all over North Goa!! We absolutely wanted to visit Anjuna, one of the biggest touristic beaches in Goa that has a great stretch of sand and an even better flea market! So we took a bus from Panjim to Mapsa, the bus hub of Goa. From this city, you can take a bus to any beach in Goa, and unfortunately, it’s the ONLY place you can catch these buses from! So we bused there and arrived to the most incredible scene. Buses lining all sides of the stand with no indication of which bus is going where…but what you did find was people shouting destinations all over the place, buses honking, and people running to catch them, not to mention the multiple stands selling everything from fruits and veggies to jewellery…pure madness, and pure India! LOVE IT! So we asked around enough to finally figure out which bus was going to Anjuna, settled in and enjoyed the ride. On the way there, we met a curious guy from Transylvania who had moved to India 15 years and spoke perfect Hindi. He came here to meet his brother who had a tattoo shop in Anjuna. Once we got off the bus, he walked with us all the way to the beach and showed us the market area, but sadly announced to us that the market wasn’t currently going on, it actually started in November, when peak tourist season starts…thanks for the lack of info Lonely Planet!!
This guy was really awesome. He shared many stories of partying, drugging, and scamming in Goa and his overall look was a lot like what you’d imagine a Transylvanian in Goa to look like, check out the photo!
Anywho, we got to enjoy the sandy beach (and by enjoy she means take a stroll down the beach with our backpacks on, the true backpacker experience) and the beautiful views before heading back to the area where the buses left the beach from. There were a couple of stands on the sides and Yan decided that he wanted to look at them so I went to sit in the bus with our bags while he browsed…and then, 10 minutes later, the bus driver starts to drive away!! I managed to communicate with him that my friend was supposed to be on this bus with me and he stopped and gave me 5 minutes to find him! Luckily a local guy told me where he had headed, I found him and we headed back to the craziness that is Mapsa! From there, we finally caught the bus to Arambol. The bus was packed to the gills, but we still managed to get there in one piece! The bus dropped us off at the main road and so we decided to walk the 1.5 kilometres to the beach! On the way, shops and hotels packed the little streets and we were offered multiple places to stay, not to mention anything we wanted, either to smoke or to drink!!
We checked out a couple of places but not knowing exactly where the beach was, we decided to wait to see how far these places actually were from the beach! And once there, we were awe struck! The beach was so beautiful, the sun was shining, people were swimming…and hotels lined the sandy beach!! We then realized that refusing those previous hotels was the best thing to do! We found ourselves a nice little hut hotel on the beach, switched into our bathing suits and headed down to the beach to watch the last of the sun rays and enjoy a beautiful sunset!
That night, we enjoyed a nice fish curry at a beach side restaurant, eating by candle light and watching the ocean waves…nothing can ever be more relaxing than this! Don’t forget my Kingfisher beer. Basically at this point if we haven’t sold you on an exchange to India next year, you’re a tool.
Today is finally the day where we get to head to Arambol, the beach where we decided to settle down and relax. Arambol is all the way up north; actually it’s the last beach on the northern tip of Goa! But of course, before then, we spent the beginning of our day bussing all over North Goa!! We absolutely wanted to visit Anjuna, one of the biggest touristic beaches in Goa that has a great stretch of sand and an even better flea market! So we took a bus from Panjim to Mapsa, the bus hub of Goa. From this city, you can take a bus to any beach in Goa, and unfortunately, it’s the ONLY place you can catch these buses from! So we bused there and arrived to the most incredible scene. Buses lining all sides of the stand with no indication of which bus is going where…but what you did find was people shouting destinations all over the place, buses honking, and people running to catch them, not to mention the multiple stands selling everything from fruits and veggies to jewellery…pure madness, and pure India! LOVE IT! So we asked around enough to finally figure out which bus was going to Anjuna, settled in and enjoyed the ride. On the way there, we met a curious guy from Transylvania who had moved to India 15 years and spoke perfect Hindi. He came here to meet his brother who had a tattoo shop in Anjuna. Once we got off the bus, he walked with us all the way to the beach and showed us the market area, but sadly announced to us that the market wasn’t currently going on, it actually started in November, when peak tourist season starts…thanks for the lack of info Lonely Planet!!
This guy was really awesome. He shared many stories of partying, drugging, and scamming in Goa and his overall look was a lot like what you’d imagine a Transylvanian in Goa to look like, check out the photo!
Anywho, we got to enjoy the sandy beach (and by enjoy she means take a stroll down the beach with our backpacks on, the true backpacker experience) and the beautiful views before heading back to the area where the buses left the beach from. There were a couple of stands on the sides and Yan decided that he wanted to look at them so I went to sit in the bus with our bags while he browsed…and then, 10 minutes later, the bus driver starts to drive away!! I managed to communicate with him that my friend was supposed to be on this bus with me and he stopped and gave me 5 minutes to find him! Luckily a local guy told me where he had headed, I found him and we headed back to the craziness that is Mapsa! From there, we finally caught the bus to Arambol. The bus was packed to the gills, but we still managed to get there in one piece! The bus dropped us off at the main road and so we decided to walk the 1.5 kilometres to the beach! On the way, shops and hotels packed the little streets and we were offered multiple places to stay, not to mention anything we wanted, either to smoke or to drink!!
We checked out a couple of places but not knowing exactly where the beach was, we decided to wait to see how far these places actually were from the beach! And once there, we were awe struck! The beach was so beautiful, the sun was shining, people were swimming…and hotels lined the sandy beach!! We then realized that refusing those previous hotels was the best thing to do! We found ourselves a nice little hut hotel on the beach, switched into our bathing suits and headed down to the beach to watch the last of the sun rays and enjoy a beautiful sunset!
That night, we enjoyed a nice fish curry at a beach side restaurant, eating by candle light and watching the ocean waves…nothing can ever be more relaxing than this! Don’t forget my Kingfisher beer. Basically at this point if we haven’t sold you on an exchange to India next year, you’re a tool.
October 9 - South Goa Tour
Plan: South Goa Tour
Yesterday we had dropped by a hotel and booked two tickets for this day trip through South Goa organized by the RTDC (regional tourism development corporation) and mentioned of course in our Lonely Planet Guide. After breakfast at our hotel (we ordered jam toast, eggs, and 2 chais the night before and one of the employees brought it to our room this morning), we headed back to the same hotel to catch the bus. The bus headed straight for Old Goa, a short ride further inland.
At one time, Old Goa was the capital of this Portuguese colony and all the way back in the 1500s, it had a larger population than either Lisbon or London! Unfortunately, epidemics and Inquisitions hindered its status and the capital was moved to Panaji in 1843. All that’s really left now are half-a-dozen churches and cathedrals, including Asia’s largest, Se Cathedral. Our first stop though was just across the street, at the Basilica of Bom Jesus, famous throughout the Roman Catholic world because it contains the remains of St Francis Xavier. This particular saint was a renowned missionary, spreading the faith across Portugal’s eastern colonies, but perhaps more interesting is what happened after his death. Dying on December 3 1552 off the coast of China, a servant is said to have emptied four sacks of quicklime into his coffin to consume his flesh, but 2 months later, his body was still in perfect condition. The body was returned to Goa a year later and a medical examination by the Church in 1556 confirmed the miracle. While St Francis’s body could resist normal decomposition and quicklime, it didn’t fare as well against holy-relic hunters. His right arm was removed in 1614, shared between Jesuits in Japan and Rome. By 1636, parts of one shoulder blade and all his internal organs were scattered across Southeast Asia. A century later the miracle seemed over and the body was stored in a glass coffin and stored away. The reason his body remains so well-known however is that since the middle of the 19th century, St Francis’s body has been displayed every 10 years, with thousands making the pilgrimage from around the world to view the body. If you’re interested, the next display is in 2014! Well while we couldn’t view the body from up close, you can still make out its shape through the glass panel up on the altar where it lays. The Basilica itself it also pretty (my architectural lingo) and dates back 1605.
From the Basilica we walked across the road and through some nicely maintained grounds up to Se Cathedral, whose construction began in 1562. Having visited many many cathedrals in Europe, I found it pretty cool to be seeing a comparable one, but this time in India’s tropical climate. Once again a very pretty cathedral with one missing tower which also adds to its coolness factor.
Next our guided tour led us to divine tackiness, Old Goa’s very own wax museum. I’ve actually never visited one of these before (they’re ridiculously expensive in Europe) but I’m pretty sure they’re nothing like this one! No celebrities in sight, well not Western ones anyway. Instead, we checked out wax figures of Ghandi, Jesus and the 12 apostles during the Last Supper, some Hindu Gods, and several gurus known throughout India. Overall it was a pretty humorous stop after what we’d just seen and thankfully it wasn’t too expensive.
Having visited some in the states, I can honestly say that this one was not even remotely close to being the same…there was definitely a huge difference in quality!
Hopping back on the bus, we made our way further south now, through the Goan countryside, to the Shiva temple of Shri Manguesh. This 18th century temple was pretty to look at, and we made our way inside and around, admired the nice white tower beside the temple, and headed back to the bus, ignoring many shopkeepers along the way.
Next we stopped for lunch, not on the beach as had been previously advertised, but instead at an RTDC resort along the way with nowhere else to eat but their restaurant (smart businessmen these RTDC people)…
A little over an hour later, we were back on the bus, listening to the Indian tourists complaining to the guide about the stop at the RTDC restaurant and not the beach, as previously advertised. We arrived soon thereafter at another temple, this time the Shri Shantadurga Temple, which is dedicated to Shantadurga, the goddess of peace. To me, this temple looked a lot like the first one, also had a tower, but its followers were clearly more business savvy as most of the courtyard and surrounding buildings had been fully restored whereas they were still working on it at the first temple. Could it be the creative sponsorship campaign used by this second temple? Depending on the sum donated, you could find your name on a plaque or when very generous, be rewarded with use of one of temple’s sleeping quarters for two weeks a year (but not during heavy pilgrimage season). It’s sort of like an Indian style time-share I guess!
Next stop was Loutolim, where we first visited Casa Arajao Alvarez, a 250-year-old Portuguese Mansion. Fully furnished and kept in the appropriate-era look, this was a pretty cool glimpse into what life as a colonial master must have looked like. Across the street from the mansion meanwhile is Ancestral Goa, billed by our Lonely Planet Guide as a re-creation of Goan village life under the Portuguese a century ago. I don’t think anyone from Lonely Planet actually visited this place because it is nothing more than a tourist trap, Indian style. Aside from the world’s largest carving into a particular type of rock and a foot print magically left behind in a rock by a Hindu saint, this place had nothing to offer but tacky looking figurines in various poses, recreating various tasks like fishing and making pottery. Actually the thing I most remember here is that there were about 10 kids employed as guides here, and each one was assigned no more than 2 displays and about 15 second of text to robotically recite. Each
one led you to a display, spoke, led you to another, spoke, and then pointed to the next guide. Pretty hard stuff!
It truly was the worst thing we’ve visited so far, and definitely a waste of money…lesson learned and an email to Lonely Planet will follow!
At this point I was itching for our next destination, Colva Beach, Goa’s longest and the second-longest beach in India. Located in central Goa, this particular beach is a favourite for many Indians and we sure saw a lot of them there. Trying to enjoy our first view of the Arabian Sea, we were quickly interrupted by “friends” offering jewellery and Indian tourists asking to take photos with us. In fact, I’m accompanied by some random Indian guy in my very first photo in front of the Arabian Sea. Hate to say it but there is an upside to visiting a Western-centric beach, hence our planned visit to Arambol the next day. For now, the tour schedule only allowed for 20 minutes or so here and after a short walk, we made our way back to the bus and headed for the next stop, Dona Paula Bay. This place had a really nicely maintained boardwalk and some beautiful views of the surrounding waterfronts. Also nice was the lookout point built atop a large rock from which we watched our first real ocean sunset. After enjoying t he sight, we did a little shopping (there is always a shopping opportunity around anything remotely touristy here in India) and a stop for lemonade and tea, we hopped back on the bus and back to Panaji, where we enjoyed another nice sea-food related supper and another walk around the pretty church, but this time at night. From there we made our way back to the monkey temple hoping it would be lit up nicely too, but it wasn’t, and so we headed back to our hotel for some well deserved R&R (which for me included watching Monday Night Raw with some of the local boys on the TV in the lobby).
We were actually very happy to have taken this tour! It permitted us to see a lot more of Goa than we would’ve had otherwise.
Yesterday we had dropped by a hotel and booked two tickets for this day trip through South Goa organized by the RTDC (regional tourism development corporation) and mentioned of course in our Lonely Planet Guide. After breakfast at our hotel (we ordered jam toast, eggs, and 2 chais the night before and one of the employees brought it to our room this morning), we headed back to the same hotel to catch the bus. The bus headed straight for Old Goa, a short ride further inland.
At one time, Old Goa was the capital of this Portuguese colony and all the way back in the 1500s, it had a larger population than either Lisbon or London! Unfortunately, epidemics and Inquisitions hindered its status and the capital was moved to Panaji in 1843. All that’s really left now are half-a-dozen churches and cathedrals, including Asia’s largest, Se Cathedral. Our first stop though was just across the street, at the Basilica of Bom Jesus, famous throughout the Roman Catholic world because it contains the remains of St Francis Xavier. This particular saint was a renowned missionary, spreading the faith across Portugal’s eastern colonies, but perhaps more interesting is what happened after his death. Dying on December 3 1552 off the coast of China, a servant is said to have emptied four sacks of quicklime into his coffin to consume his flesh, but 2 months later, his body was still in perfect condition. The body was returned to Goa a year later and a medical examination by the Church in 1556 confirmed the miracle. While St Francis’s body could resist normal decomposition and quicklime, it didn’t fare as well against holy-relic hunters. His right arm was removed in 1614, shared between Jesuits in Japan and Rome. By 1636, parts of one shoulder blade and all his internal organs were scattered across Southeast Asia. A century later the miracle seemed over and the body was stored in a glass coffin and stored away. The reason his body remains so well-known however is that since the middle of the 19th century, St Francis’s body has been displayed every 10 years, with thousands making the pilgrimage from around the world to view the body. If you’re interested, the next display is in 2014! Well while we couldn’t view the body from up close, you can still make out its shape through the glass panel up on the altar where it lays. The Basilica itself it also pretty (my architectural lingo) and dates back 1605.
From the Basilica we walked across the road and through some nicely maintained grounds up to Se Cathedral, whose construction began in 1562. Having visited many many cathedrals in Europe, I found it pretty cool to be seeing a comparable one, but this time in India’s tropical climate. Once again a very pretty cathedral with one missing tower which also adds to its coolness factor.
Next our guided tour led us to divine tackiness, Old Goa’s very own wax museum. I’ve actually never visited one of these before (they’re ridiculously expensive in Europe) but I’m pretty sure they’re nothing like this one! No celebrities in sight, well not Western ones anyway. Instead, we checked out wax figures of Ghandi, Jesus and the 12 apostles during the Last Supper, some Hindu Gods, and several gurus known throughout India. Overall it was a pretty humorous stop after what we’d just seen and thankfully it wasn’t too expensive.
Having visited some in the states, I can honestly say that this one was not even remotely close to being the same…there was definitely a huge difference in quality!
Hopping back on the bus, we made our way further south now, through the Goan countryside, to the Shiva temple of Shri Manguesh. This 18th century temple was pretty to look at, and we made our way inside and around, admired the nice white tower beside the temple, and headed back to the bus, ignoring many shopkeepers along the way.
Next we stopped for lunch, not on the beach as had been previously advertised, but instead at an RTDC resort along the way with nowhere else to eat but their restaurant (smart businessmen these RTDC people)…
A little over an hour later, we were back on the bus, listening to the Indian tourists complaining to the guide about the stop at the RTDC restaurant and not the beach, as previously advertised. We arrived soon thereafter at another temple, this time the Shri Shantadurga Temple, which is dedicated to Shantadurga, the goddess of peace. To me, this temple looked a lot like the first one, also had a tower, but its followers were clearly more business savvy as most of the courtyard and surrounding buildings had been fully restored whereas they were still working on it at the first temple. Could it be the creative sponsorship campaign used by this second temple? Depending on the sum donated, you could find your name on a plaque or when very generous, be rewarded with use of one of temple’s sleeping quarters for two weeks a year (but not during heavy pilgrimage season). It’s sort of like an Indian style time-share I guess!
Next stop was Loutolim, where we first visited Casa Arajao Alvarez, a 250-year-old Portuguese Mansion. Fully furnished and kept in the appropriate-era look, this was a pretty cool glimpse into what life as a colonial master must have looked like. Across the street from the mansion meanwhile is Ancestral Goa, billed by our Lonely Planet Guide as a re-creation of Goan village life under the Portuguese a century ago. I don’t think anyone from Lonely Planet actually visited this place because it is nothing more than a tourist trap, Indian style. Aside from the world’s largest carving into a particular type of rock and a foot print magically left behind in a rock by a Hindu saint, this place had nothing to offer but tacky looking figurines in various poses, recreating various tasks like fishing and making pottery. Actually the thing I most remember here is that there were about 10 kids employed as guides here, and each one was assigned no more than 2 displays and about 15 second of text to robotically recite. Each
one led you to a display, spoke, led you to another, spoke, and then pointed to the next guide. Pretty hard stuff!
It truly was the worst thing we’ve visited so far, and definitely a waste of money…lesson learned and an email to Lonely Planet will follow!
At this point I was itching for our next destination, Colva Beach, Goa’s longest and the second-longest beach in India. Located in central Goa, this particular beach is a favourite for many Indians and we sure saw a lot of them there. Trying to enjoy our first view of the Arabian Sea, we were quickly interrupted by “friends” offering jewellery and Indian tourists asking to take photos with us. In fact, I’m accompanied by some random Indian guy in my very first photo in front of the Arabian Sea. Hate to say it but there is an upside to visiting a Western-centric beach, hence our planned visit to Arambol the next day. For now, the tour schedule only allowed for 20 minutes or so here and after a short walk, we made our way back to the bus and headed for the next stop, Dona Paula Bay. This place had a really nicely maintained boardwalk and some beautiful views of the surrounding waterfronts. Also nice was the lookout point built atop a large rock from which we watched our first real ocean sunset. After enjoying t he sight, we did a little shopping (there is always a shopping opportunity around anything remotely touristy here in India) and a stop for lemonade and tea, we hopped back on the bus and back to Panaji, where we enjoyed another nice sea-food related supper and another walk around the pretty church, but this time at night. From there we made our way back to the monkey temple hoping it would be lit up nicely too, but it wasn’t, and so we headed back to our hotel for some well deserved R&R (which for me included watching Monday Night Raw with some of the local boys on the TV in the lobby).
We were actually very happy to have taken this tour! It permitted us to see a lot more of Goa than we would’ve had otherwise.
October 8 - Panjim, Goa
The plan: Head to Goa to relax, visit the beautiful city of Panjim and beach it up
We finally made it to Panaji at around 7 am…after a long sleepless night (Why exactly are they called sleeper buses if it’s impossible to sleep in??). When we got out, our first mission was to find a bathroom since after being in a bus for 12 hours, we really really needed to go!!! After using the surprisingly clean ones at the bus stand (the girls bathroom anyways!), we headed downtown to try and find a hotel for the next two nights! The walk in the early morning was a nice way to make it into town, despite the slightly rainy weather. Once downtown, we both fell in love with the place! It is soooo different from any place we’ve been in India so far…it has a very very strong Portuguese influence from the narrow streets, to the beautifully bright painted houses, to the beautiful doorways.
Panaji reminded me a lot of Havana, for anyone that’s been. Much of the same architecture style and feel, and just as Havana lines the ocean with its main roadway along the boardwalk, Panaji faces out onto its bordering river.
We checked out a couple of places and after finally identifying the cheapest one (after the cockroaches of Mahabaleshwar, we have no more fears!!) we booked it for the next two days, took a quick shower and headed out to find a place that was open to have breakfast! We were both starving at this point and wanted someplace close by so we settled on the Alphonso Guesthouse…a beautifully restored Portuguese townhome where, if we weren’t both sooo cheap, we could’ve stayed at!! But at least we got to enjoy a wonderful breakfast of Goan bread with jam, eggs and toast with a rooftop view on some of the surrounding area! Once fed, we headed out follow the suggested walking tour of Panaji.
We started out our personal Lonely Planet Guidebook assisted tour at the Panjim Inn, a 200 year old mansion. The pastel pink exterior gives it a very Mediterranean feel. We then slowly made our way over to the Maruti Temple which is dedicated to the monkey god Hanuman…and were we had to seek shelter from the monsoon (leftover!) rains…but luckily for us, it didn’t last long and the sun accompanied us on our journey for the rest of the day!! After taking in the beautiful views of the Mandovi River, we walked over to see the Bishop’s palace. This MANSION is where the Archbishop of Goa resides. This mansion has a giant silver painted statue of Jesus outside and totally overshadows the Chief Minister’s residence across the street!! After retracing our steps a little bit, we explored the narrow streets and found our way to the Chapel of St. Sebastian. It was actually built in the 1880’s and the crucifix that currently inhabits the chapel is the crucifix that originally stood in the Palace of Inquisition in Old Goa. Since we were both tired from the bus ride and the humidity of Goa, we headed over to the Hotel Venite, located in another 200 year old building, sat on one of its very very cozy balconies overlooking the street and had two nice milkshakes. The last and most impressive stop on our tour was the Church of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception. The Church itself wasn’t that big but the stairs leading up to it where very impressive. This church is clearly the center piece of the city! It was originally consecrated in 1541 and stands above the town square. It turns out that Panaji was the first port of call for voyages from Lisbon and newly arrived sailors would visit the strikingly whitewashed church to give thanks for a safe crossing before continuing to Old Goa. It is quite an impressive site, especially when the sky is blue and holds such a contrast against the white church.
This church is the symbol of Panaji and rightfully so. Though we couldn’t enter it during our visit, the nice walk up and view down on one of Panaji’s main streets is well worth the visit.
The rest of our day was spent walking the streets of Panaji. We walked down by the water and made our way to the market…but before even getting there, we were stopped by this very friendly man who chatted with us and offered to show us the market…and to our surprise, didn’t seem to want anything (at the time!). Yan and I were both hungry and tired and so we asked him to suggest a nice lunch restaurant for us…and he did, and proceeded to follow us inside, order tea, drink it, and then asked us to pay for it while he went to check on his shop! He let us be for a while but told us he would come back after we were done our lunch…he came back in a second time, but saw that we weren’t done and decided to go back outside. When we were finished paying, we walked out and didn’t see him so we started walking away…but as you know it, he had spotted us and asked us to come visit his shop.
He had been pretty nice to us after all so we decided to follow him. We walked down a couple of streets where at one point, he picked up a bag full of stuff (Yan and I thought he had gotten a delivery!) and then proceeded one street down and asked me to sit on the sidewalk…where he opened his bag and showed me his shop!!! Crazy! He had nice pillow cases and blankets but nothing Yan and I wanted so we walked away with him still begging for us to buy something.
We went back to our hotel and got ready for supper and headed to Hotel Ritz! Recommended to us by a travel agent who said they had delicious seafood…with a hefty price attached to it!! I went with squid masala while Yan got to choose his fish from a selection they brought to him on a platter! The food was pretty good and seriously, although it was the most expensive meal we have EVER had here (we paid the same amount on one meal than we would normally pay in 2 whole days!) when you think about it, 5$ for a seafood dish is pretty cheap, and we were both happy to finally have some fish, Goan Fish nonetheless!
We finally made it to Panaji at around 7 am…after a long sleepless night (Why exactly are they called sleeper buses if it’s impossible to sleep in??). When we got out, our first mission was to find a bathroom since after being in a bus for 12 hours, we really really needed to go!!! After using the surprisingly clean ones at the bus stand (the girls bathroom anyways!), we headed downtown to try and find a hotel for the next two nights! The walk in the early morning was a nice way to make it into town, despite the slightly rainy weather. Once downtown, we both fell in love with the place! It is soooo different from any place we’ve been in India so far…it has a very very strong Portuguese influence from the narrow streets, to the beautifully bright painted houses, to the beautiful doorways.
Panaji reminded me a lot of Havana, for anyone that’s been. Much of the same architecture style and feel, and just as Havana lines the ocean with its main roadway along the boardwalk, Panaji faces out onto its bordering river.
We checked out a couple of places and after finally identifying the cheapest one (after the cockroaches of Mahabaleshwar, we have no more fears!!) we booked it for the next two days, took a quick shower and headed out to find a place that was open to have breakfast! We were both starving at this point and wanted someplace close by so we settled on the Alphonso Guesthouse…a beautifully restored Portuguese townhome where, if we weren’t both sooo cheap, we could’ve stayed at!! But at least we got to enjoy a wonderful breakfast of Goan bread with jam, eggs and toast with a rooftop view on some of the surrounding area! Once fed, we headed out follow the suggested walking tour of Panaji.
We started out our personal Lonely Planet Guidebook assisted tour at the Panjim Inn, a 200 year old mansion. The pastel pink exterior gives it a very Mediterranean feel. We then slowly made our way over to the Maruti Temple which is dedicated to the monkey god Hanuman…and were we had to seek shelter from the monsoon (leftover!) rains…but luckily for us, it didn’t last long and the sun accompanied us on our journey for the rest of the day!! After taking in the beautiful views of the Mandovi River, we walked over to see the Bishop’s palace. This MANSION is where the Archbishop of Goa resides. This mansion has a giant silver painted statue of Jesus outside and totally overshadows the Chief Minister’s residence across the street!! After retracing our steps a little bit, we explored the narrow streets and found our way to the Chapel of St. Sebastian. It was actually built in the 1880’s and the crucifix that currently inhabits the chapel is the crucifix that originally stood in the Palace of Inquisition in Old Goa. Since we were both tired from the bus ride and the humidity of Goa, we headed over to the Hotel Venite, located in another 200 year old building, sat on one of its very very cozy balconies overlooking the street and had two nice milkshakes. The last and most impressive stop on our tour was the Church of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception. The Church itself wasn’t that big but the stairs leading up to it where very impressive. This church is clearly the center piece of the city! It was originally consecrated in 1541 and stands above the town square. It turns out that Panaji was the first port of call for voyages from Lisbon and newly arrived sailors would visit the strikingly whitewashed church to give thanks for a safe crossing before continuing to Old Goa. It is quite an impressive site, especially when the sky is blue and holds such a contrast against the white church.
This church is the symbol of Panaji and rightfully so. Though we couldn’t enter it during our visit, the nice walk up and view down on one of Panaji’s main streets is well worth the visit.
The rest of our day was spent walking the streets of Panaji. We walked down by the water and made our way to the market…but before even getting there, we were stopped by this very friendly man who chatted with us and offered to show us the market…and to our surprise, didn’t seem to want anything (at the time!). Yan and I were both hungry and tired and so we asked him to suggest a nice lunch restaurant for us…and he did, and proceeded to follow us inside, order tea, drink it, and then asked us to pay for it while he went to check on his shop! He let us be for a while but told us he would come back after we were done our lunch…he came back in a second time, but saw that we weren’t done and decided to go back outside. When we were finished paying, we walked out and didn’t see him so we started walking away…but as you know it, he had spotted us and asked us to come visit his shop.
He had been pretty nice to us after all so we decided to follow him. We walked down a couple of streets where at one point, he picked up a bag full of stuff (Yan and I thought he had gotten a delivery!) and then proceeded one street down and asked me to sit on the sidewalk…where he opened his bag and showed me his shop!!! Crazy! He had nice pillow cases and blankets but nothing Yan and I wanted so we walked away with him still begging for us to buy something.
We went back to our hotel and got ready for supper and headed to Hotel Ritz! Recommended to us by a travel agent who said they had delicious seafood…with a hefty price attached to it!! I went with squid masala while Yan got to choose his fish from a selection they brought to him on a platter! The food was pretty good and seriously, although it was the most expensive meal we have EVER had here (we paid the same amount on one meal than we would normally pay in 2 whole days!) when you think about it, 5$ for a seafood dish is pretty cheap, and we were both happy to finally have some fish, Goan Fish nonetheless!
October 7th - Day at the Court
The plan: pack up, check out, bring our things over to Aisha’s, drop by the court to attend a bail hearing, go downtown to get a SIM card for the phone, and catch the night bus to Goa.
Everything was going according to plan. We had breakfast, hit the internet café, then a quick lunch before checking out. We somehow fit all our bags into a rickshaw and made our way to Aisha’s. From there we headed over to the Court.
As part of our evaluation at ILS Law College, we had to visit the court, attend a hearing or trial, and then prepare a report and presentation about it. As is often the case, plans changed. While English is the official judicial language, most of what takes place here in Maharashtra is done in Marathi. Recognizing this, the lawyer we were to accompany, Mme Vartak, told us we would only need to attend one bail hearing for a suspected murderer. She told us the details of the case, which were actually quite interesting:
On March 21, 2008, the accused, a truck driver named Sanjay Taneji Suryavanshi, asked the deceased, a Mr. Jadhav, to come work with him as a cleaner. They left Pune together on March 21, 2008 and drove to Kerala. Once in Kerala, they proceeded to unload the truck. This is the last time Mr. Jadhav was seen alive. Following a long period of time during which her husband had not returned home, Mrs. Sharada inquired with the accused about the whereabouts of her husband and filed a missing person complaint.
During the inquiry that followed, the police questioned the suspect on his knowledge of the whereabouts of the deceased. At the time, the accused stated that after returning from Kerala, he went to Gurajat via Pune and dropped off the missing man there. The police also enquired with the office in Kerala where the truck had been unloaded as to their knowledge of the whereabouts of the deceased or if they knew where he would have gone. The Kerala office informed them that there had been a quarrel between the two on account of payments of money and that the accused had left the deceased in Kerala.
On a day like any other, one of Sherada’s neighbours went to do his groceries at a local shop. By chance, the newspaper that was used to pack the groceries was a paper from Kerala containing a picture of an unidentified body found there. After taking a look at the photograph, the neighbour noticed a striking resemblance to Mr. Jadhav. He quickly went to show Sharada the picture and although there was a story attached to it, it was written in a local Kerala language that neither understood. With the help of a translator, they came to know that a dead body had been found near the seashore in Kerala.
Mr. Jadhav had a name tattooed on his hand and so the identification of the body was easily done. About 9 months after filing the report, the crime was registered against the accused for the offence punishable under section 302 of the Indian Penal Code, murder.
Quite the story! We arrived at the court and made our way to Vartak’s office. She was busy in a meeting (I think it was a lunch actually) and we went outside to look for Megha, an American exchange student who was also to attend the hearing. Megha didn’t end up showing up though (lucky for her!) and we continued to wait outside Vartak’s office. During this time, I would snap random photos here and there of the court buildings, the gardens, lawyers walking around in their traditional attire but covered with a black jacket, prisoners escorted to and from hearings by armed officers, etc. No one at any point commented on my camera.
Except for me of course who told him multiple times to be careful what he photographed because we were on government property and, having travelled in other developing countries, they usually do not like people taking pictures on their property…but he was being pretty discrete about it.
Finally Vartak came out of her office and told us to follow her. We made our way into a very cramped court room, filled with lawyers and witnesses all sitting or looking for a place to stand. Vartak told us to wait at the back while she made her way to the front and took a seat near the bench. We watched as a number of lawyers made arguments and discussed different points of law with the judge. Unfortunately, almost all of this took place in Marathi and even in English it was hard to follow what was happening. I did my best to pay attention though, waiting for Vartak to stand up when it was her time to argue against allowing bail for our murder suspect. Suddenly though, after about 15 minutes, she stood up and walked towards the door. We followed her and realized that the bail hearing had just happened, but we didn’t realize it. Apparently she wasn’t the one to plead and we simply didn’t understand a thing. Back in her office, she briefly explained to us what arguments both parties had made and told us that the judge would render his decision tomorrow, and that was it for our court visit. At least it should have been!
As we made our way back towards the exit, we walked by the same court room we had just been in. I noticed that through one open doorway facing the judge, you could see his profile and those of his assistants, but without actually making out their faces because of the lighting. I took out my camera, and just as Emilie warned me that maybe I shouldn’t (it was more like “No, don’t take the picture), I snapped a photo. Before I even had time to put my hand back down, a man grabbed at my camera and yelled something in Marathi. The camera was still on a string around my wrist, and there was no way I was letting him have it. He kept hold of my camera though, while saying things in Marathi and calling for people. Someone alarmed at that point, I tried to explain to him that there was no problem, that I could show him the photo and delete it. I didn’t realize you couldn’t take photos, there were no signs saying you couldn’t (at least none in English and no little pictures of a camera with a big x over it). He either didn’t understand English, didn’t care, or both, and simply kept calling for someone while holding my camera in an iron grip. We soon realized he was calling for the police. Other people around us just stared in confusion or amusement, wondering what would happen next. Soon some men came and escorted us down a hall. I tried to explain to them what had happened but here too, no one listened or cared. We made our way to an administrative office, finally told to have a seat, and to wait for someone to show up. The room was filled with other staff members but none would initially explain to us what was going on. We asked but they just said to wait.
This is one very frustrating thing about India that we’ve noticed on several occasions. In many work settings, everyone has a role and specific duties. They will do only what is within their duties and nothing more. If it’s not their job to deal with you, then you shouldn’t hope for much help from them.
After several minutes, another man came and sat down at a desk near us. While doing several other things at once, he would intermittently explain to us that we were not allowed to take photos on the grounds of the court, that we had done a bad thing, and that the judge would have to decide what to do with us. He didn’t really care to look at the photos, didn’t care if we were willing to delete them, it wasn’t his problem. After explaining on several occasions, to several different employees that came and went, that we were simply law students visiting the court, that I was taking photos to show my friends back home how the courts looked here, and that I didn’t know you couldn’t take photos, that I would happily delete them, etc. etc., the whole situation became a little joke to them. They chatted among themselves while looking at us and laughing, but never really letting us in on the joke. At one point I even figured we might get asked to pay a bribe and snuck Emilie my wallet so she could take the money out and hide it in her purse. If they did ask for money, I would only have a Rs 100 or so on me.
Finally after showing them our student cards, they called the college and spoke to the principal. After speaking with her for a few minutes, they passed the phone to us. Before the battery on the phone died and ended our conversation prematurely, the principal had time to identify who I was and to explain to me that I would have to write a letter to the High Judge of the District Court, who was in charge of the grounds. In the letter, I would have to explain what had happened, apologize, and ask the Court for its forgiveness and for my camera back. When I mentioned I had a bus to catch that evening at 7:30pm, she said that we would meet with the judge after 5pm and I shouldn’t have a problem catching the bus.
I was then given a plain white sheet of paper and pen, and began drafting my apology letter. By this time we realized of course that we wouldn’t be in any serious trouble, but I still did my best to sound apologetic and appreciative of my experience (I did want my camera back!). I finished my letter just as Emilie warned me not to kiss the judge’s ass too much.
What he also fails to mention is that my name also had to be on the letter of apology because I was with him…who knew he’d be the one to get us in trouble!
As we waited, a lawyer came over and started chatting in Marathi with someone. They clearly explained to him what happened, as they would to anyone who came and wondered what two white Canadians were doing sitting there (apparently this didn’t happen often). He started speaking with me, suggesting what I should say. No problem, you have student card? Ok ok. You have visa and passport? Ok ok. You tell judge you were taking photos, you’re a law student, wanted to show your friends back home, you apologize and no problem. I had the distinct impression he was going to be my lawyer for this hearing. After the exchange though, he just walked off and I wondered when he’d be back to get us.
5pm came and went but nothing happened, we sat and waited. Then to my great embarrassment, Mme Sakalkhar and Mme Vartak arrived. They sat down beside us, smiling reassuringly, and spoke with the men there. They explained we would meet with the judge, I would show him my photos, delete them, and it would be ok. We waited a while longer, and then finally made our way out of the room after being there for about 2 hours. We walked around some hallways and in the direction of the main court room. At one point we were told to stop, while Vartak and Sakalkhar made their way down a hall and into an office. While we waited one of the guards asked me why I had taken photos, it is not allowed. I told him I realized that now. He looked at me sympathetically as we waited several more minutes. From the open door, we could hear a little of what was going on in the room but not make out anything. Another 10 minutes or so and Vartak and Sakalkhar came out, but Vartak was no longer smiling and looked somewhat concerned. Sakalkhar still smiled at us and told us to wait, as they made their way through another door. Again we waited, not knowing what was happening, not knowing whether it was more serious than we first though, wondering whether Vartak was in trouble for having brought us here. Finally, the court session inside the room ended and the judge made his way out and back to his office. We were soon invited to come in. In a very large room, the judge sat at his desk, with Vartak and Sakalkhar in two chairs in front of him. I walked up trying to look as apologetic as I could. The judge asked to see the photos. I showed him and quickly realized this judge was a very reasonable man. He looked at two of the men that had detained us and basically asked them what the big deal was. These were just photos of lawyers, people walking around, and nice buildings. They explained to him that the rules prohibited all photos. I needed to ask for permission first. He looked again at the photos, and then asked me if I were to keep one photo, which would it be? That was a hard one for me… I told him I would just be happy to delete any photo he wanted me to, but he repeated his question. I sifted through my photos as everyone watched, and finally picked the one of an empty court room. I realized then that he didn’t really have a problem with me taking photos; he just wanted them to make his court look good. This is a small messy room he said, why would you want photo of this? After exchanging a few comments about the aesthetic qualities of Indian court rooms, he put on his glasses and took an even closer look at the photos, asking me to zoom in on some of them. More discussion followed and he finally made me delete two photos of the inside of the courtrooms and I was allowed to keep the rest. On the way out I thanked Mme Sakalkhar profusely and she told me not to worry about it, that they explained the situation to the judge and that he took it “sportingly”. She also asked whether I could print out a couple of the photos so that they could give them to the judge at a later time. Finally escaping the court, we just had enough time to hop into a rickshaw, make our way back to Aisha’, briefly recount the story to her and her roommates, grab our bags and make our way to the pickup point for our bus to Goa. This was our first look at a sleeper bus and it really was a memorable experience. One side of the aisle has 2 levels of single beds while the other side has 2 levels of double beds. On this particular bus you just had a curtain for privacy. We had an upper bunk and I gotta say that it wasn’t the most comfortable of rides! Our bus swayed and bounced all the way to Goa and while the two bars keeping me from toppling over the end of the bunk and into the aisle weren’t very comfortable, they were still much appreciated!
Everything was going according to plan. We had breakfast, hit the internet café, then a quick lunch before checking out. We somehow fit all our bags into a rickshaw and made our way to Aisha’s. From there we headed over to the Court.
As part of our evaluation at ILS Law College, we had to visit the court, attend a hearing or trial, and then prepare a report and presentation about it. As is often the case, plans changed. While English is the official judicial language, most of what takes place here in Maharashtra is done in Marathi. Recognizing this, the lawyer we were to accompany, Mme Vartak, told us we would only need to attend one bail hearing for a suspected murderer. She told us the details of the case, which were actually quite interesting:
On March 21, 2008, the accused, a truck driver named Sanjay Taneji Suryavanshi, asked the deceased, a Mr. Jadhav, to come work with him as a cleaner. They left Pune together on March 21, 2008 and drove to Kerala. Once in Kerala, they proceeded to unload the truck. This is the last time Mr. Jadhav was seen alive. Following a long period of time during which her husband had not returned home, Mrs. Sharada inquired with the accused about the whereabouts of her husband and filed a missing person complaint.
During the inquiry that followed, the police questioned the suspect on his knowledge of the whereabouts of the deceased. At the time, the accused stated that after returning from Kerala, he went to Gurajat via Pune and dropped off the missing man there. The police also enquired with the office in Kerala where the truck had been unloaded as to their knowledge of the whereabouts of the deceased or if they knew where he would have gone. The Kerala office informed them that there had been a quarrel between the two on account of payments of money and that the accused had left the deceased in Kerala.
On a day like any other, one of Sherada’s neighbours went to do his groceries at a local shop. By chance, the newspaper that was used to pack the groceries was a paper from Kerala containing a picture of an unidentified body found there. After taking a look at the photograph, the neighbour noticed a striking resemblance to Mr. Jadhav. He quickly went to show Sharada the picture and although there was a story attached to it, it was written in a local Kerala language that neither understood. With the help of a translator, they came to know that a dead body had been found near the seashore in Kerala.
Mr. Jadhav had a name tattooed on his hand and so the identification of the body was easily done. About 9 months after filing the report, the crime was registered against the accused for the offence punishable under section 302 of the Indian Penal Code, murder.
Quite the story! We arrived at the court and made our way to Vartak’s office. She was busy in a meeting (I think it was a lunch actually) and we went outside to look for Megha, an American exchange student who was also to attend the hearing. Megha didn’t end up showing up though (lucky for her!) and we continued to wait outside Vartak’s office. During this time, I would snap random photos here and there of the court buildings, the gardens, lawyers walking around in their traditional attire but covered with a black jacket, prisoners escorted to and from hearings by armed officers, etc. No one at any point commented on my camera.
Except for me of course who told him multiple times to be careful what he photographed because we were on government property and, having travelled in other developing countries, they usually do not like people taking pictures on their property…but he was being pretty discrete about it.
Finally Vartak came out of her office and told us to follow her. We made our way into a very cramped court room, filled with lawyers and witnesses all sitting or looking for a place to stand. Vartak told us to wait at the back while she made her way to the front and took a seat near the bench. We watched as a number of lawyers made arguments and discussed different points of law with the judge. Unfortunately, almost all of this took place in Marathi and even in English it was hard to follow what was happening. I did my best to pay attention though, waiting for Vartak to stand up when it was her time to argue against allowing bail for our murder suspect. Suddenly though, after about 15 minutes, she stood up and walked towards the door. We followed her and realized that the bail hearing had just happened, but we didn’t realize it. Apparently she wasn’t the one to plead and we simply didn’t understand a thing. Back in her office, she briefly explained to us what arguments both parties had made and told us that the judge would render his decision tomorrow, and that was it for our court visit. At least it should have been!
As we made our way back towards the exit, we walked by the same court room we had just been in. I noticed that through one open doorway facing the judge, you could see his profile and those of his assistants, but without actually making out their faces because of the lighting. I took out my camera, and just as Emilie warned me that maybe I shouldn’t (it was more like “No, don’t take the picture), I snapped a photo. Before I even had time to put my hand back down, a man grabbed at my camera and yelled something in Marathi. The camera was still on a string around my wrist, and there was no way I was letting him have it. He kept hold of my camera though, while saying things in Marathi and calling for people. Someone alarmed at that point, I tried to explain to him that there was no problem, that I could show him the photo and delete it. I didn’t realize you couldn’t take photos, there were no signs saying you couldn’t (at least none in English and no little pictures of a camera with a big x over it). He either didn’t understand English, didn’t care, or both, and simply kept calling for someone while holding my camera in an iron grip. We soon realized he was calling for the police. Other people around us just stared in confusion or amusement, wondering what would happen next. Soon some men came and escorted us down a hall. I tried to explain to them what had happened but here too, no one listened or cared. We made our way to an administrative office, finally told to have a seat, and to wait for someone to show up. The room was filled with other staff members but none would initially explain to us what was going on. We asked but they just said to wait.
This is one very frustrating thing about India that we’ve noticed on several occasions. In many work settings, everyone has a role and specific duties. They will do only what is within their duties and nothing more. If it’s not their job to deal with you, then you shouldn’t hope for much help from them.
After several minutes, another man came and sat down at a desk near us. While doing several other things at once, he would intermittently explain to us that we were not allowed to take photos on the grounds of the court, that we had done a bad thing, and that the judge would have to decide what to do with us. He didn’t really care to look at the photos, didn’t care if we were willing to delete them, it wasn’t his problem. After explaining on several occasions, to several different employees that came and went, that we were simply law students visiting the court, that I was taking photos to show my friends back home how the courts looked here, and that I didn’t know you couldn’t take photos, that I would happily delete them, etc. etc., the whole situation became a little joke to them. They chatted among themselves while looking at us and laughing, but never really letting us in on the joke. At one point I even figured we might get asked to pay a bribe and snuck Emilie my wallet so she could take the money out and hide it in her purse. If they did ask for money, I would only have a Rs 100 or so on me.
Finally after showing them our student cards, they called the college and spoke to the principal. After speaking with her for a few minutes, they passed the phone to us. Before the battery on the phone died and ended our conversation prematurely, the principal had time to identify who I was and to explain to me that I would have to write a letter to the High Judge of the District Court, who was in charge of the grounds. In the letter, I would have to explain what had happened, apologize, and ask the Court for its forgiveness and for my camera back. When I mentioned I had a bus to catch that evening at 7:30pm, she said that we would meet with the judge after 5pm and I shouldn’t have a problem catching the bus.
I was then given a plain white sheet of paper and pen, and began drafting my apology letter. By this time we realized of course that we wouldn’t be in any serious trouble, but I still did my best to sound apologetic and appreciative of my experience (I did want my camera back!). I finished my letter just as Emilie warned me not to kiss the judge’s ass too much.
What he also fails to mention is that my name also had to be on the letter of apology because I was with him…who knew he’d be the one to get us in trouble!
As we waited, a lawyer came over and started chatting in Marathi with someone. They clearly explained to him what happened, as they would to anyone who came and wondered what two white Canadians were doing sitting there (apparently this didn’t happen often). He started speaking with me, suggesting what I should say. No problem, you have student card? Ok ok. You have visa and passport? Ok ok. You tell judge you were taking photos, you’re a law student, wanted to show your friends back home, you apologize and no problem. I had the distinct impression he was going to be my lawyer for this hearing. After the exchange though, he just walked off and I wondered when he’d be back to get us.
5pm came and went but nothing happened, we sat and waited. Then to my great embarrassment, Mme Sakalkhar and Mme Vartak arrived. They sat down beside us, smiling reassuringly, and spoke with the men there. They explained we would meet with the judge, I would show him my photos, delete them, and it would be ok. We waited a while longer, and then finally made our way out of the room after being there for about 2 hours. We walked around some hallways and in the direction of the main court room. At one point we were told to stop, while Vartak and Sakalkhar made their way down a hall and into an office. While we waited one of the guards asked me why I had taken photos, it is not allowed. I told him I realized that now. He looked at me sympathetically as we waited several more minutes. From the open door, we could hear a little of what was going on in the room but not make out anything. Another 10 minutes or so and Vartak and Sakalkhar came out, but Vartak was no longer smiling and looked somewhat concerned. Sakalkhar still smiled at us and told us to wait, as they made their way through another door. Again we waited, not knowing what was happening, not knowing whether it was more serious than we first though, wondering whether Vartak was in trouble for having brought us here. Finally, the court session inside the room ended and the judge made his way out and back to his office. We were soon invited to come in. In a very large room, the judge sat at his desk, with Vartak and Sakalkhar in two chairs in front of him. I walked up trying to look as apologetic as I could. The judge asked to see the photos. I showed him and quickly realized this judge was a very reasonable man. He looked at two of the men that had detained us and basically asked them what the big deal was. These were just photos of lawyers, people walking around, and nice buildings. They explained to him that the rules prohibited all photos. I needed to ask for permission first. He looked again at the photos, and then asked me if I were to keep one photo, which would it be? That was a hard one for me… I told him I would just be happy to delete any photo he wanted me to, but he repeated his question. I sifted through my photos as everyone watched, and finally picked the one of an empty court room. I realized then that he didn’t really have a problem with me taking photos; he just wanted them to make his court look good. This is a small messy room he said, why would you want photo of this? After exchanging a few comments about the aesthetic qualities of Indian court rooms, he put on his glasses and took an even closer look at the photos, asking me to zoom in on some of them. More discussion followed and he finally made me delete two photos of the inside of the courtrooms and I was allowed to keep the rest. On the way out I thanked Mme Sakalkhar profusely and she told me not to worry about it, that they explained the situation to the judge and that he took it “sportingly”. She also asked whether I could print out a couple of the photos so that they could give them to the judge at a later time. Finally escaping the court, we just had enough time to hop into a rickshaw, make our way back to Aisha’, briefly recount the story to her and her roommates, grab our bags and make our way to the pickup point for our bus to Goa. This was our first look at a sleeper bus and it really was a memorable experience. One side of the aisle has 2 levels of single beds while the other side has 2 levels of double beds. On this particular bus you just had a curtain for privacy. We had an upper bunk and I gotta say that it wasn’t the most comfortable of rides! Our bus swayed and bounced all the way to Goa and while the two bars keeping me from toppling over the end of the bunk and into the aisle weren’t very comfortable, they were still much appreciated!
The Month of September
Aga Khan Palace
The Plan: Take the day off to visit the Aga Khan Palace and hang out with friends
Wow! So it’s been a while since we’ve updated all of you on what’s been happening here in India, and all the blame must go to school work!! We’ve been hard at work trying to finish our “education” (**cough cough**). On one of our few day off in the last month, we decided to head over to the Aga Khan Palace with Aisha and Kara to check out the final resting place of Mahatma Gandhi himself!
The girls came to meet us at our hotel where we had a quick breakfast at the restaurant across the street before heading out for the day. We all packed into a rickshaw (really really tight squeeze but if Indians can do it, so can we!!) and headed over to the memorial. The memorial itself is set in 6.5 hectares of beautiful gardens across a river. Once you cross the gates and enter the grounds, peace totally surrounds you. You cannot hear the noise of the traffic or people talking or dogs barking…it’s actually quite spectacular and a much needed break from the noise pollution we get assaulted with on a daily basis!
So for those of you who don’t know, here’s a bit of history of the Memorial itself. After the Mahatma delivered hi momentous “Quit India” resolution in 1942, the British interned him and other leaders of India’s Independence movement here for nearly two years. Both he and his wife, as well as his secretary for 35 year, were imprisoned here and his wife and secretary both spent their last living days here as well. All of their ashes are kept in a memorial shrine in the garden. The shrines themselves are nothing spectacular (compared to what he did and represented to India and all over the world) and the garden where they are situated is very simple. It is a wonderful place to find peace and quiet and sit a moment and think how one person can impress such change on a whole country. We all stayed there for a while thinking and doing our own thing before leaving the garden and exploring the rest of the grounds. We spent a couple of hours just soaking in the peacefulness of it all before throwing ourselves in the craziness that was Laxmi Rd during the Ganesh Festival!
Ganesh Festival
Plan: experience the greatness that is the Ganesh Festival in Pune.
During the month of September, we were treated to the spectacle that is the Ganesh Chaturthi. As luck would have it, this festival is celebrated with the most fervor in Pune. For 10 days, Hindus celebrate the birth of Ganesh, the elephant-headed god, by displaying beautiful clay idols of him all over the city. On the final day, a smaller version of the idol is paraded through the streets before being ceremoniously immersed into the city’s rivers.
In the area around our hotel, we noticed large displays being put up on the main streets, with smaller ones interspersed everywhere else. It seems the idol display is a point of pride for all residents, with each family, street, neighborhood, and area of the city trying to outdo all others.
No two displays were ever the same. On the main street near our hotel, one display had the Ganesh idol at its center, with multi-colored lights forming larger and larger circles around it. At night, music would blast from speakers while the lights would flicker, form patterns, and change colors – red, yellow, green, blue, purple… A second display across the street included a large fountain. Here too at night we’d be treated to a light and sound show, with water shooting out from the fountain in various shapes and forms, twisting in circles, always following the beat of the music. The music, by the way, was a techno mix of Hindi that made you feel like you’d just stepped into an Indian rave. Neighborhood kids would gather here at night, chatting among friends, and taking in the sounds and lights.
Better than any club you could ever go to! With all the lights and loud music going and every display trying to outdo each other, it was even hard to have a conversation…in the open streets!
Already impressed with these displays, Vaishali told us the real show was in the downtown area, where large temples had been constructed just for this occasion and beautiful idols were adorned with silver and gold jewelry. After visiting Aga Khan Palace, we headed for Laxmi Road with Kara and Aisha. We weren’t disappointed. Our rickshaw driver dropped us off at one end of the road, and for the next few hours, we made our way through the bustling crowd. Stands on both sides of the road sold all the typical goods we’ve come to expect in India: jewelry, sandals, clothes, toys, watches, offerings for the temples, and so on. A few times, someone would catch us by surprise, dab red powder on our forehead and then ask for money (they were blessing us, but then asking for offerings for doing so…even after we told them no…multiple times!). And of course, no walk through an Indian city would be complete without poor children pulling at your hands, following you for several minutes, begging for money, and reminding you just how fortunate you are to come from Canada.
The temples Vaishali told us about were more than we could have hoped for. They were beautifully decorated, several stories high, and guarded by large (albeit plastic) elephants (These temples were HUGE…and only constructed for the 10 day of the festival, impressive to say the least!). One had a pot in the middle of a fountain. From all sides, people would make a wish, take aim, and hope that their change would land into the pot. My air ball was quite embarrassing.
These temples weren’t simply for decoration either. Each had a beautiful Ganesh idol inside, with
large processions of people entering the temple to make an offering to the god (both religious – through flowers and coconuts and financial – one Ganesh was literally covered with Rupee bills by the end of the festival). After several hours of exploring and one brief separation (either I was abandoned or got lost depending on who you believe) (There he goes again! We were all waiting for him IN FRONT OF THE TEMPLE! And it’s not like 3 white girls are very hard to find in India!) later, we headed home for the evening, but vowed to come back at night to see it all over again.
A few days later, we did just that, hopping into a rickshaw and making our way downtown at night. The second visit was well worth it because at night, the temples were beautifully lit, as were the Ganesh displays across the area. If you don’t believe us, check out the Facebook album!
Finally on the last day of the festival, we spent the day watching processions of people walking by our hotel, making their way down to the river at the end of the road. Sometimes it was just one person holding a small idol, sometimes an entire family chanting the festival’s mantra – “come again next year”. This festival isn’t just reserved for families though, as large groups (usually a class or club) also made their way down, typically accompanied by a large truck or tractor pulling a platform with several large idols. These groups also made it a little more difficult to see the religious component of the festival, since it really seemed more like just a good excuse to throw a party, blast some music, get drunk, and dance around.
(In the front of their truck, walls of speakers were blasting music, not just one, but usually 2-3 huge speakers!)
I was able to experience that first hand at one point. As Emilie and I made our way to the river to check out the immersion ceremony, a group of guys grabbed me and pulled me into their circle. It didn’t take long to smell the alcohol. While it certainly helped them dance creatively, it also made it pretty hard for me to keep up. Thankfully at one point as they started getting a little rowdier, one of the sober ones pulled me out of there and escorted me back to Em.
I happily enjoyed the view from the sidewalk!
The riverside was filled with groups of people preparing their idols for immersion, decorating them with flowers, performing the proper chants, and then selecting a member of the group to take the idol into the water. One memorable sight was that of a father explaining to his son how to properly immerse the idol for the first time. From what we understanding, while chanting the mantra, the idol is dunked under the water three times, the final time completely, ensuring it won’t float back up, and then letting the current take the idol on its way.
The one unfortunate result of this whole festival is the large amount of pollution it creates. Not only were the idols left in the water, but people would simply throw everything they had brought with them into the water too. This environmental impact is starting to get noticed though and we even read some articles about various initiatives, such as using large tanks to immerse the idols, which could then be properly disposed of. Overall though, it was a very memorable cultural experience we won’t soon forget and we were very happy to have seen it!
Hell Day at School
The plan: Definitely not the day we actually had!
We’ve been working hard at trying to get an education for the past month but that’s been quite the feat. Between professors not showing up to classes or when they did show up they didn’t teach anything we were a bit (and by this I mean VERY) frustrated…but it’s all part of the experience right!! But we had one very frustrating Saturday where we got a bunch of “bad” news all at once which increased our frustration with anything related to any type of administration.
This frustration that erupted on this particular Saturday was actually a culmination of what happened a little earlier in the week. During the week (about 1 month before school ends) we finally received all the instruction for our evaluation. Not only were we to do written exams, but the professors of each of our classes would be responsible for deciding how we were going to be evaluated. So as of the end of that week, we had finally received all the instruction from the professors. So let’s take a quick look at the tasks that were awaiting us for the following month:
Labour Laws: Write a comparative paper between Canadian and Indian Labour Laws. Now this isn’t bad, he didn’t specify the length and wanted it to be a group effort so that each of our sections would complement each other and create a general overview of the topics seen in class. He also later threw a presentation at us, the day before it was to be done, but since the paper was almost done by that time, we already had the necessary material.
Human Rights and International Law: This Professor wanted us to each write a 5000 word paper as well as do a 15 minute presentation on topics he chose for us…ok, it’s still doable at this point
International Economic Law: This class is taught by the same professor as our Human Rights class…he ALSO wanted a 5000 page paper and a 15 minute presentation for this class…this is definitely getting to be a lot of work.
Environmental Law: We have yet to have any directions from her. She handed us her card at some point with a note to call her…but when we did she did not answer her phone, so we figured we’d catch her during the next class…to which she did not show up since she had a guest speaker…so we called her again and she told us to come meet her on Sunday….OUR ONLY DAY OFF!! We told her we had plans and that we would meet with her at our next class. During the next class we spoke to her about it and told us that she would give the directions for our evaluation to Ms. Sakhalkar and that she would transmit it to us…weird but nothing is done conventionally here so we accepted it! The next day, we went to meet with Ms. Sakhalkar to ask for the directions and she told us that she had given them back to our professor and she would be responsible for giving it to us…well finally we got the information and it consisted of a 15-20 minutes presentation…at least we didn’t have a paper to write!!
So it turns out that we would have 4 weeks to prepare 4 presentations each, write 10 000 words as well as another paper…
So at the end of the week, on this “special” Saturday, we had a meeting with Ms. Sakhalkar, the woman in charge of international students at ILS. So already feel stressed from the workload they just gave us, she announces that our exams will only be on the 26-29 of October!! So a bit of background on this…when we first registered, we were supposed to be done our exams on the third week of September but then, Swine Flu hit the college and extended school by 2 weeks…so technically this means that our exams should end at the beginning of the second week of October…still fine with us. While discussing our schedule, we mentioned this to her as well as the fact that we had travel plans and she seemed sympathetic and we had agreed that we would do the exams around the 14th of October since after this, it would be Diwali (a Holiday), but now, it was being extended till the end!!! We tried to discuss the dates with her, telling her that we did not need that much time to study and that we would like to do them before but she refused to even listen to us and told us that the decision was taken by the principal and a body of professors and it was final! We tried to level with her but at this point, she has the nerves to tell us that we shouldn’t take this so lightly…this coming from a school where profs don’t show up half the time and when they do, they teach nothing and where the students either sleep or read the newspaper in class! Wow…
She also added to our workload by stating that we also needed to do 2 other 15 minute presentations; one on a Supreme Court of India case and the other on a current topic of importance…AND we would need to attend a court hearing, write a report and do another presentation on what we learned during the hearing!!
We took a rickshaw home that afternoon feeling very frustrated and angry knowing that we would have to write, on average, one paper a week and try to do the best quality job we can in that time frame…but luckily for us, the night ended with a get together where we met some real nice people who eventually became our friends and who we try to meet up with as often as we can. After this, we realized that there was no point in us being frustrated and ruining the beauty that is India with our mood…we would just have to suck it up and write our papers…and modify our trip a little!! Since we had some downtime between our presentations to Ms. Sakhalkar and our exams, we decided that once school was done, we’d head off to the beaches of Goa and work on our presentations there, come back in time to do them and then head back again to visit Rajasthan before completing our exams and leaving Pune for good! I think we did a pretty good job of making the best of this frustrating situation.
Lonavla
The Plan: Day trip to Lonavla with Aisha.
After having spent the past couple of weeks stuck in Pune because of school work, we felt we needed to take a day trip somewhere nearby to cheer us up and to allow us to experience even more of India…so scouring through our trusty Lonely Planet guide we found just the place: Lonavla.
Lonavla is another “hill resort” about 2 hours from Pune with nothing much to see in town, but it certainly does have one great attraction: Cave Temples! So, agreeing on our next destination, Aisha, Yan and I left at 8 am that morning to go to the travel agency to buy our tickets. Thinking it left every hour, we were a bit surprised to learn that the next bus only left at 10:30 but made the best of the time we had and decided to go find a place to have breakfast. Most stores were closed but we did manage to find a cake shop that was opened and so we bought ourselves some snacks for the trip over and visited the area around the bus stop. Once we did get on the bus and were well on our way, we were lucky enough to be able to watch a complimentary Bollywood movie and though it was in Hindi, it was very entertaining to watch!
We were dropped off in a very vacant area of Lonavla, a sort of road stop along the highway that basically consisted of a restaurant. It being noon, we decided to eat there before heading on our excursion. Aisha and I walked up to the man at the counter and asked him if we could sit down to eat…after which he proceeded to show us a menu…entirely in Hindi! After he explained to us what each thing was (they only served about 8 different things) we each picked something and sat down to eat. After a quick lunch, we decided to take a rickshaw that would bring us to visit both Karla and Bhaja caves.
We had a good time bartering with the driver for a trip to both locations and back to the bus stand, waiting times included. We settled on 400 rupees (approx. $10) and a 50 rupee tip if we were happy at the end. Which leads to my travel lesson of the day, whenever you’re paying someone for a service here and negotiating a price, it’s not a bad idea to mention a “tip” if you’re happy at the end. This will keep the person motivated to provide you good and happy service along the way, which it certainly did here!
Both these cave temples date back from around the 2nd century BC and are among the oldest and finest example of early Buddhist rock temple art in India. Although they definitely weren’t on the same scale as Ellora or Ajanta, there was nobody there and so we had the caves all to ourselves!! It was also a lot less commercialized…but probably not for long!
As we were making our way to the first set of caves, the Karla caves, the rain started pouring down…and only really ended once we made it safely back to our hotel in Pune…
This was not a lot of fun, but it’s been the only day during our entire trip when rain was an issue. Sure there was a lot of it, it became cold, and my $20 Zeller waterproof watch broke, but we survived!
The Karla cave is the largest early Buddhist chaitya in India. It was completed in 80 BC and is around 40m long and 15m high. The cave was carved by monks and artisans from the rock in imitation of other wooden architecture and the details involved in the making of these temples are truly incredible. There is a semi-circular window that filters in light towards the caves representation of Buddha. The cave’s roof is also ribbed with teak beams which are apparently the original beams that were put in place during the construction of the temple. Each of the pillars in the temple is also carved at the top with either elephants or horses. In front of the cave, they recently built a temple that attracted some worshippers while we were there…we even saw some chickens being blessed (not much fun for them when they’re about to get eaten) but besides them and the guards, the caves were pretty much empty and so we had a lot of peace and quiet in a country where it is always hard to find some!
After a little bit of shopping at some stands along the way, we made our way back to the rickshaw and headed to the second set of caves, the Bhaja Caves. The setting here is much greener and quieter than the other caves, with a waterfall on the way and no temple here to block the view! Although most of the caves date back to the same time period as the Karla caves, Cave number 12 actually dates back earlier than Karla and contains a simple dagoba. It started pouring hard again at this point and although we tried our best to stay dry, at one point it just became useless and we got out from the shelter of the caves and just kept visiting as if it was actually sunny.
After finishing the visit, we decided to take the train back to save some money…so we got dropped off at the train station and bought our tickets. Just as the train was pulling in, we realized that they had only given us 2 tickets…not 3!! And so Yan had to run over to buy a new one and we needed to wait another hour for the next train! After being soaked for more than 3 hours, we were cold and tired but still tried to make the best of it!!
By making the best of it, she means getting crapped on by crows. So we were all sitting there under the cover of a roof, waiting for our train, when Aisha looks at my shorts, points and says “You have a stain there.” Just as I look down to see where she’s point to, warm oozy bird doodoo splatters on my hand (a centimeter to the left and I would’ve had an even bigger stain on my shorts. Well that was just gross but lucky for me I had the rain to wash my hand off with.
Once we got on the train, second class, we realized that it was actually more like a zoo! People pushed and shoved each other to get in and out of the train or even to get a seat! A little insane but quite the experience!
This was one of my personal highlights for this trip since at the beginning of the ride, I got to stand at an open doorway watching the Indian scenery go by and listening to MIA’s Paper Planes, the theme song to any India Trip.
With open windows and doors, you can really get a great view of the country side! After a couple of hours, a nice man on the train told us when we should get off and after 5 hours of being soaked to the bone, we finally made it home after another rickshaw ride in the rain!
The Plan: Take the day off to visit the Aga Khan Palace and hang out with friends
Wow! So it’s been a while since we’ve updated all of you on what’s been happening here in India, and all the blame must go to school work!! We’ve been hard at work trying to finish our “education” (**cough cough**). On one of our few day off in the last month, we decided to head over to the Aga Khan Palace with Aisha and Kara to check out the final resting place of Mahatma Gandhi himself!
The girls came to meet us at our hotel where we had a quick breakfast at the restaurant across the street before heading out for the day. We all packed into a rickshaw (really really tight squeeze but if Indians can do it, so can we!!) and headed over to the memorial. The memorial itself is set in 6.5 hectares of beautiful gardens across a river. Once you cross the gates and enter the grounds, peace totally surrounds you. You cannot hear the noise of the traffic or people talking or dogs barking…it’s actually quite spectacular and a much needed break from the noise pollution we get assaulted with on a daily basis!
So for those of you who don’t know, here’s a bit of history of the Memorial itself. After the Mahatma delivered hi momentous “Quit India” resolution in 1942, the British interned him and other leaders of India’s Independence movement here for nearly two years. Both he and his wife, as well as his secretary for 35 year, were imprisoned here and his wife and secretary both spent their last living days here as well. All of their ashes are kept in a memorial shrine in the garden. The shrines themselves are nothing spectacular (compared to what he did and represented to India and all over the world) and the garden where they are situated is very simple. It is a wonderful place to find peace and quiet and sit a moment and think how one person can impress such change on a whole country. We all stayed there for a while thinking and doing our own thing before leaving the garden and exploring the rest of the grounds. We spent a couple of hours just soaking in the peacefulness of it all before throwing ourselves in the craziness that was Laxmi Rd during the Ganesh Festival!
Ganesh Festival
Plan: experience the greatness that is the Ganesh Festival in Pune.
During the month of September, we were treated to the spectacle that is the Ganesh Chaturthi. As luck would have it, this festival is celebrated with the most fervor in Pune. For 10 days, Hindus celebrate the birth of Ganesh, the elephant-headed god, by displaying beautiful clay idols of him all over the city. On the final day, a smaller version of the idol is paraded through the streets before being ceremoniously immersed into the city’s rivers.
In the area around our hotel, we noticed large displays being put up on the main streets, with smaller ones interspersed everywhere else. It seems the idol display is a point of pride for all residents, with each family, street, neighborhood, and area of the city trying to outdo all others.
No two displays were ever the same. On the main street near our hotel, one display had the Ganesh idol at its center, with multi-colored lights forming larger and larger circles around it. At night, music would blast from speakers while the lights would flicker, form patterns, and change colors – red, yellow, green, blue, purple… A second display across the street included a large fountain. Here too at night we’d be treated to a light and sound show, with water shooting out from the fountain in various shapes and forms, twisting in circles, always following the beat of the music. The music, by the way, was a techno mix of Hindi that made you feel like you’d just stepped into an Indian rave. Neighborhood kids would gather here at night, chatting among friends, and taking in the sounds and lights.
Better than any club you could ever go to! With all the lights and loud music going and every display trying to outdo each other, it was even hard to have a conversation…in the open streets!
Already impressed with these displays, Vaishali told us the real show was in the downtown area, where large temples had been constructed just for this occasion and beautiful idols were adorned with silver and gold jewelry. After visiting Aga Khan Palace, we headed for Laxmi Road with Kara and Aisha. We weren’t disappointed. Our rickshaw driver dropped us off at one end of the road, and for the next few hours, we made our way through the bustling crowd. Stands on both sides of the road sold all the typical goods we’ve come to expect in India: jewelry, sandals, clothes, toys, watches, offerings for the temples, and so on. A few times, someone would catch us by surprise, dab red powder on our forehead and then ask for money (they were blessing us, but then asking for offerings for doing so…even after we told them no…multiple times!). And of course, no walk through an Indian city would be complete without poor children pulling at your hands, following you for several minutes, begging for money, and reminding you just how fortunate you are to come from Canada.
The temples Vaishali told us about were more than we could have hoped for. They were beautifully decorated, several stories high, and guarded by large (albeit plastic) elephants (These temples were HUGE…and only constructed for the 10 day of the festival, impressive to say the least!). One had a pot in the middle of a fountain. From all sides, people would make a wish, take aim, and hope that their change would land into the pot. My air ball was quite embarrassing.
These temples weren’t simply for decoration either. Each had a beautiful Ganesh idol inside, with
large processions of people entering the temple to make an offering to the god (both religious – through flowers and coconuts and financial – one Ganesh was literally covered with Rupee bills by the end of the festival). After several hours of exploring and one brief separation (either I was abandoned or got lost depending on who you believe) (There he goes again! We were all waiting for him IN FRONT OF THE TEMPLE! And it’s not like 3 white girls are very hard to find in India!) later, we headed home for the evening, but vowed to come back at night to see it all over again.
A few days later, we did just that, hopping into a rickshaw and making our way downtown at night. The second visit was well worth it because at night, the temples were beautifully lit, as were the Ganesh displays across the area. If you don’t believe us, check out the Facebook album!
Finally on the last day of the festival, we spent the day watching processions of people walking by our hotel, making their way down to the river at the end of the road. Sometimes it was just one person holding a small idol, sometimes an entire family chanting the festival’s mantra – “come again next year”. This festival isn’t just reserved for families though, as large groups (usually a class or club) also made their way down, typically accompanied by a large truck or tractor pulling a platform with several large idols. These groups also made it a little more difficult to see the religious component of the festival, since it really seemed more like just a good excuse to throw a party, blast some music, get drunk, and dance around.
(In the front of their truck, walls of speakers were blasting music, not just one, but usually 2-3 huge speakers!)
I was able to experience that first hand at one point. As Emilie and I made our way to the river to check out the immersion ceremony, a group of guys grabbed me and pulled me into their circle. It didn’t take long to smell the alcohol. While it certainly helped them dance creatively, it also made it pretty hard for me to keep up. Thankfully at one point as they started getting a little rowdier, one of the sober ones pulled me out of there and escorted me back to Em.
I happily enjoyed the view from the sidewalk!
The riverside was filled with groups of people preparing their idols for immersion, decorating them with flowers, performing the proper chants, and then selecting a member of the group to take the idol into the water. One memorable sight was that of a father explaining to his son how to properly immerse the idol for the first time. From what we understanding, while chanting the mantra, the idol is dunked under the water three times, the final time completely, ensuring it won’t float back up, and then letting the current take the idol on its way.
The one unfortunate result of this whole festival is the large amount of pollution it creates. Not only were the idols left in the water, but people would simply throw everything they had brought with them into the water too. This environmental impact is starting to get noticed though and we even read some articles about various initiatives, such as using large tanks to immerse the idols, which could then be properly disposed of. Overall though, it was a very memorable cultural experience we won’t soon forget and we were very happy to have seen it!
Hell Day at School
The plan: Definitely not the day we actually had!
We’ve been working hard at trying to get an education for the past month but that’s been quite the feat. Between professors not showing up to classes or when they did show up they didn’t teach anything we were a bit (and by this I mean VERY) frustrated…but it’s all part of the experience right!! But we had one very frustrating Saturday where we got a bunch of “bad” news all at once which increased our frustration with anything related to any type of administration.
This frustration that erupted on this particular Saturday was actually a culmination of what happened a little earlier in the week. During the week (about 1 month before school ends) we finally received all the instruction for our evaluation. Not only were we to do written exams, but the professors of each of our classes would be responsible for deciding how we were going to be evaluated. So as of the end of that week, we had finally received all the instruction from the professors. So let’s take a quick look at the tasks that were awaiting us for the following month:
Labour Laws: Write a comparative paper between Canadian and Indian Labour Laws. Now this isn’t bad, he didn’t specify the length and wanted it to be a group effort so that each of our sections would complement each other and create a general overview of the topics seen in class. He also later threw a presentation at us, the day before it was to be done, but since the paper was almost done by that time, we already had the necessary material.
Human Rights and International Law: This Professor wanted us to each write a 5000 word paper as well as do a 15 minute presentation on topics he chose for us…ok, it’s still doable at this point
International Economic Law: This class is taught by the same professor as our Human Rights class…he ALSO wanted a 5000 page paper and a 15 minute presentation for this class…this is definitely getting to be a lot of work.
Environmental Law: We have yet to have any directions from her. She handed us her card at some point with a note to call her…but when we did she did not answer her phone, so we figured we’d catch her during the next class…to which she did not show up since she had a guest speaker…so we called her again and she told us to come meet her on Sunday….OUR ONLY DAY OFF!! We told her we had plans and that we would meet with her at our next class. During the next class we spoke to her about it and told us that she would give the directions for our evaluation to Ms. Sakhalkar and that she would transmit it to us…weird but nothing is done conventionally here so we accepted it! The next day, we went to meet with Ms. Sakhalkar to ask for the directions and she told us that she had given them back to our professor and she would be responsible for giving it to us…well finally we got the information and it consisted of a 15-20 minutes presentation…at least we didn’t have a paper to write!!
So it turns out that we would have 4 weeks to prepare 4 presentations each, write 10 000 words as well as another paper…
So at the end of the week, on this “special” Saturday, we had a meeting with Ms. Sakhalkar, the woman in charge of international students at ILS. So already feel stressed from the workload they just gave us, she announces that our exams will only be on the 26-29 of October!! So a bit of background on this…when we first registered, we were supposed to be done our exams on the third week of September but then, Swine Flu hit the college and extended school by 2 weeks…so technically this means that our exams should end at the beginning of the second week of October…still fine with us. While discussing our schedule, we mentioned this to her as well as the fact that we had travel plans and she seemed sympathetic and we had agreed that we would do the exams around the 14th of October since after this, it would be Diwali (a Holiday), but now, it was being extended till the end!!! We tried to discuss the dates with her, telling her that we did not need that much time to study and that we would like to do them before but she refused to even listen to us and told us that the decision was taken by the principal and a body of professors and it was final! We tried to level with her but at this point, she has the nerves to tell us that we shouldn’t take this so lightly…this coming from a school where profs don’t show up half the time and when they do, they teach nothing and where the students either sleep or read the newspaper in class! Wow…
She also added to our workload by stating that we also needed to do 2 other 15 minute presentations; one on a Supreme Court of India case and the other on a current topic of importance…AND we would need to attend a court hearing, write a report and do another presentation on what we learned during the hearing!!
We took a rickshaw home that afternoon feeling very frustrated and angry knowing that we would have to write, on average, one paper a week and try to do the best quality job we can in that time frame…but luckily for us, the night ended with a get together where we met some real nice people who eventually became our friends and who we try to meet up with as often as we can. After this, we realized that there was no point in us being frustrated and ruining the beauty that is India with our mood…we would just have to suck it up and write our papers…and modify our trip a little!! Since we had some downtime between our presentations to Ms. Sakhalkar and our exams, we decided that once school was done, we’d head off to the beaches of Goa and work on our presentations there, come back in time to do them and then head back again to visit Rajasthan before completing our exams and leaving Pune for good! I think we did a pretty good job of making the best of this frustrating situation.
Lonavla
The Plan: Day trip to Lonavla with Aisha.
After having spent the past couple of weeks stuck in Pune because of school work, we felt we needed to take a day trip somewhere nearby to cheer us up and to allow us to experience even more of India…so scouring through our trusty Lonely Planet guide we found just the place: Lonavla.
Lonavla is another “hill resort” about 2 hours from Pune with nothing much to see in town, but it certainly does have one great attraction: Cave Temples! So, agreeing on our next destination, Aisha, Yan and I left at 8 am that morning to go to the travel agency to buy our tickets. Thinking it left every hour, we were a bit surprised to learn that the next bus only left at 10:30 but made the best of the time we had and decided to go find a place to have breakfast. Most stores were closed but we did manage to find a cake shop that was opened and so we bought ourselves some snacks for the trip over and visited the area around the bus stop. Once we did get on the bus and were well on our way, we were lucky enough to be able to watch a complimentary Bollywood movie and though it was in Hindi, it was very entertaining to watch!
We were dropped off in a very vacant area of Lonavla, a sort of road stop along the highway that basically consisted of a restaurant. It being noon, we decided to eat there before heading on our excursion. Aisha and I walked up to the man at the counter and asked him if we could sit down to eat…after which he proceeded to show us a menu…entirely in Hindi! After he explained to us what each thing was (they only served about 8 different things) we each picked something and sat down to eat. After a quick lunch, we decided to take a rickshaw that would bring us to visit both Karla and Bhaja caves.
We had a good time bartering with the driver for a trip to both locations and back to the bus stand, waiting times included. We settled on 400 rupees (approx. $10) and a 50 rupee tip if we were happy at the end. Which leads to my travel lesson of the day, whenever you’re paying someone for a service here and negotiating a price, it’s not a bad idea to mention a “tip” if you’re happy at the end. This will keep the person motivated to provide you good and happy service along the way, which it certainly did here!
Both these cave temples date back from around the 2nd century BC and are among the oldest and finest example of early Buddhist rock temple art in India. Although they definitely weren’t on the same scale as Ellora or Ajanta, there was nobody there and so we had the caves all to ourselves!! It was also a lot less commercialized…but probably not for long!
As we were making our way to the first set of caves, the Karla caves, the rain started pouring down…and only really ended once we made it safely back to our hotel in Pune…
This was not a lot of fun, but it’s been the only day during our entire trip when rain was an issue. Sure there was a lot of it, it became cold, and my $20 Zeller waterproof watch broke, but we survived!
The Karla cave is the largest early Buddhist chaitya in India. It was completed in 80 BC and is around 40m long and 15m high. The cave was carved by monks and artisans from the rock in imitation of other wooden architecture and the details involved in the making of these temples are truly incredible. There is a semi-circular window that filters in light towards the caves representation of Buddha. The cave’s roof is also ribbed with teak beams which are apparently the original beams that were put in place during the construction of the temple. Each of the pillars in the temple is also carved at the top with either elephants or horses. In front of the cave, they recently built a temple that attracted some worshippers while we were there…we even saw some chickens being blessed (not much fun for them when they’re about to get eaten) but besides them and the guards, the caves were pretty much empty and so we had a lot of peace and quiet in a country where it is always hard to find some!
After a little bit of shopping at some stands along the way, we made our way back to the rickshaw and headed to the second set of caves, the Bhaja Caves. The setting here is much greener and quieter than the other caves, with a waterfall on the way and no temple here to block the view! Although most of the caves date back to the same time period as the Karla caves, Cave number 12 actually dates back earlier than Karla and contains a simple dagoba. It started pouring hard again at this point and although we tried our best to stay dry, at one point it just became useless and we got out from the shelter of the caves and just kept visiting as if it was actually sunny.
After finishing the visit, we decided to take the train back to save some money…so we got dropped off at the train station and bought our tickets. Just as the train was pulling in, we realized that they had only given us 2 tickets…not 3!! And so Yan had to run over to buy a new one and we needed to wait another hour for the next train! After being soaked for more than 3 hours, we were cold and tired but still tried to make the best of it!!
By making the best of it, she means getting crapped on by crows. So we were all sitting there under the cover of a roof, waiting for our train, when Aisha looks at my shorts, points and says “You have a stain there.” Just as I look down to see where she’s point to, warm oozy bird doodoo splatters on my hand (a centimeter to the left and I would’ve had an even bigger stain on my shorts. Well that was just gross but lucky for me I had the rain to wash my hand off with.
Once we got on the train, second class, we realized that it was actually more like a zoo! People pushed and shoved each other to get in and out of the train or even to get a seat! A little insane but quite the experience!
This was one of my personal highlights for this trip since at the beginning of the ride, I got to stand at an open doorway watching the Indian scenery go by and listening to MIA’s Paper Planes, the theme song to any India Trip.
With open windows and doors, you can really get a great view of the country side! After a couple of hours, a nice man on the train told us when we should get off and after 5 hours of being soaked to the bone, we finally made it home after another rickshaw ride in the rain!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Day 24-29: Revived attempts at an Indian education and our many administrative and bureaucratic misadventures
Snoozing until 6:45am, out the door by 7:05am, and a quick rickshaw ride later, we enter class at 7:25am. Though 10 minutes late according to our timetables (which we quickly learnt have no relation to the actual beginning of class!), we are still some of the first students to arrive. I pass the time waiting for the professor by looking at the dog sleeping beside me while Emilie plays a game on my ipod Touch. I listen as the other students give up hope that the professor will show up and in fact, it turns out our professor has decided to skip his Monday morning 7:15am class (Ahhhh India!). Take two, we go to our Labour Laws class and there at least the professor has shown up and we at least get half an education today. We head over to the library to see if our student cards are ready but the librarian isn’t there. We’ll try tomorrow. Home for movies and it’s worth mentioning the delicious baked fruit supper we have. To date, our restaurant hasn’t seized to impress.
Tuesday
Today our blind professor does show up. A highlight of the class is the continued presence of my dog companion, who again sleeps beside my desk in the aisle. To my great disappointment, the caretaker escorting our professor shoos the dog out of class but minutes later he returns through the back door and takes his place beside me and sleeps the rest of class. After our second lecture, we again head to the library to try and get our ID cards. Once again, the librarian is still not there and no one else can help us. This is a frustrating thing we will continue to experience throughout the week: If a task is not in someone’s job description, they are either incapable or unwilling to help you in any way… though it’s not much better when the task does fall within their job description! Discouraged, we walk out of the College and run into Mrs. Sakalkhar. She informs us that school will likely be extended by a week or two but they are still waiting for confirmation from the University.
Back at the hotel, Vaishali calls us and tells us she is taking some of the other Canadians to the police headquarters to get registered. She’s not sure how the process works or whether we even need to do it but invites us to come along if we like. Thinking it’s better to do this with her than alone, we agree. For the sake of a comprehensive blog, I’m going to focus now on the hoops and ladders we jumped through over the span of a couple of days, all in the hopes of registering as foreign nationals at the police HQ.
First Vaishali dropped by to talk to our hotel manager about the “A Form” they had. When a foreign national resides somewhere in India, the owners of that place must immediately fill out this form, register it with police, and then keep it with them in case the police were to drop by and check up on them. Vaishali wasn’t sure if we needed the original or not, but either way we needed a copy of the form. The assistant manager sent a member of the staff out to the nearest Xerox center on the street and came back with a copy for us. Vaishali asked if we could also borrow the original but the assistant manager wasn’t sure about this and referred her to the manager. She said she would call him later that night and hopefully when she came to pick us up the next day, we would be able to bring it with us.
The next day we were indeed able to borrow the original form, meet with Vaishali, and together we drove to the International Center at the university where we also needed another letter from the University confirming our registration. With that letter in hand, Vaishali drove us, Aisha, Kathleen, and Michelle to the police HQ. Vaishali wasn’t quite sure where it was though and we spent some time looking for it. When we finally found the police station, it turned out not to be the right one. From there we walked to another building about 10 minutes away, which of course turned out also not to be the right office. This one was where that “A Form” was registered but of course that wouldn’t be where foreign nationals would register. We were redirected to another office but since Michelle had a class to attend, we first drove her back to the University and Vaishali decided to leave her car there and that we should just take rickshaws to the Police Commissioner’s Office since she wasn’t sure where that was. It turned out it was just further down the way we had already gone, and retracing our steps once again, we made our way to the HQ (witnessing a small road accident along the way).
And by small road accident, he means a school girl riding a bike who smashed into a van who stopped suddenly!! But it turns out she seemed ok and after getting back on her bike, she was on her way again.
At the HQ, we registered with security at the entrance, found the appropriate building, passed security, and stopped in front of a hallway filled with foreigners, all bunched together and trying to enter a doorway. We asked around and the “C Form” we needed to fill out was inside that door. Thankfully someone was able to make their way through the scrum and pull out some forms for us. We headed back out of there to find the nearest Xerox machine (4 copies of the form are needed) and of course there were no photocopiers in that building. We located a Xerox place (there are a LOT of these everywhere in Pune) where we proceeded to fill out the form asking us about our citizenship, how it was acquired, where we arrived from, what we were doing there, height, eye color, etc. etc. etc. etc. Kathleen and Aisha also took passport photos as those were required on all 4 copies of the “C Form” and then just for shits and giggles, we decided to make copies of our passports, visas, and “A Forms” 4 times each just in case. Back at the HQ, the scrum of foreigners informed us that the doorway was indeed where you dropped off your forms, but that this could only be done between 11-1:30pm, and given it was now 4pm, we were shit out of luck. This meant two things, first we essentially got nothing accomplished today, despite 6 hours of running around, and secondly we would have to come back at least two more times: once simply to drop off our forms and then again another day to pick up our registration documents. Ahhhhh India! Defeated, we headed back to the University, from where Vaishali drove us back to the hotel. Later that evening the manager made sure we gave him back the original “A Form” as he would be in a lot of trouble if they were caught without it.
Not eager to repeat that marathon and a little under the weather the next couple of days, we only headed back to the police HQ after school on Friday. By the time we arrived, a sizable lineup had already formed and we patiently waited our turn as one or two at a time, foreigners were allowed in through the door to deposit their forms. During the wait we met a nice German girl recently arrived who was to study English and complete her thesis. Several Africans, Europeans, Asians and Middle Easterners (mostly Iranians) were also there and then Kara, Kathleen, and Aisha also showed up to drop off their forms. A half-hour later my turn came up (the wait having been made longer by an impromptu tea break taken by the employees).
I squeezed into the room and politely handed over my documents. 5 staff members chatted in Marathi, joking around and laughing, sometimes seemingly about me… The woman dealing with me was quite rude…
She: “Where is your “A Form”? This is not the original.”
Me: Oh God… “Yes I know, the hotel manager did not want to give it to us, but this is a copy. You can call him.”
She continues flipping pages. “Passport”
I hand her my passport and she flips through it. “This says you arrived August 3, why did you write 2nd?”
Me: “We arrived the second at night, but before midnight”.
She: “This says third, you write third”.
I correct the date on all four forms. And then the real fun begins…
She: “You had to register within 14 days of arriving. You have to pay late fee.”
Me: “But we couldn’t come sooner. We received the letter from the University just this week.”
She couldn’t have cared less. The fact we had just received the letter we needed from the University didn’t matter. The fact it was closed because of swine flu didn’t matter. This was our fault, we had to deal with it, and we had to pay the fine regardless. She was however generous enough to offer us a discount on our fine! Should we go to the bank, we would have to pay a fee of Rs 1,500 each, but if we paid right now, in cash, we would only have to pay Rs 1,000 each (i.e. pay her a nice bribe under the table and this would be taken care of). Several things bothered me about this, a lot! We were being forced to pay a significant fine for something that was in no way our fault and the only thing we could do was to pay, or pay a slightly less sizable bribe, at the POLICE commissioner’s office!!! We refused to pay, they refused to take our forms, and we left angry. On our way out we spoke to the girls who weren’t sure themselves what they were going to do. Once again, we had accomplished nothing and weren’t getting any further ahead in this.
I must say, this was the first time that I was fuming about how things work in India…I’ve been frustrated before but having to pay late fees for decisions made by the GOVERNMENT (i.e. to close the school) was definitely not our fault and we shouldn’t be penalized for it! But clearly, they didn’t care cause they were making money off of this!
Adding to our frustration, on the way home our rickshaw driver took us on a shortcut which actually turned out to be a longer detour. We argued with him and after paying him Rs 60, we walked off. He actually had the nerve to drive up to us and ask for Rs 3 more! I yelled at him telling him he was lucky I was paying him that and walked off. He continued following us, now wanting Rs 10. We ignored him and kept on walking and he finally gave up and drove us.
Now quite angered by the day’s scamming, we hid in our room and vowed not to come out until supper, lest someone else try to cheat us. A few hours later Vaishali called us. She had spoken with the other girls who had called her from the Police HQ and after speaking to the woman there (the one asking for a bribe), she told us we were right not to pay her because there was no guarantee anything would actually get done and we would have received no proof of payment. She then gave us more good news: After speaking with the coordinator of the German exchange program to Maharashtra, she found out that if our Visa was valid for less than 180 days, we didn’t even need to register as foreign nationals! We looked at our visas and in very fine print, it was indeed written that. Not surprisingly, everyone at the HQ had forgotten to mention this to us! And with that, several useless frustrating hours, pointless rickshaw rides and useless photocopying later, our experience registering as foreign nationals was over.
Sadly, this wasn’t the only administrative hell we had to deal with that week. By Saturday, we still had not received our student cards, which we needed both to take out books and to use the computer room. After visiting the library on a daily basis (the librarian was never there), the desk where all students go to get their cards and to the man in another office who had taken our forms 3 weeks earlier, we still didn’t have our student cards. The most entertaining illustrations of what we had to deal with follow.
We went to the library and they directed us to the desk down another hall where all students get their cards. There we asked for our cards, showing the forms we had gotten with our rolls numbers: C-112 and C-113. They ask us for our roll numbers. Despite having already given them the form and pointing out the number, we repeat it several times. They start looking through a box of student cards. Nope, no card there. They direct us to the librarian. When we’re told at the library a few days later to go back to that desk, we ask again for our cards: C-112 and C-113. They look through the box once again and pull out a card. I take the card and look at it. Well let’s see… I’m not in first year… That’s not my name… I’m not Indian… Oh and I’m not a girl! When I point this out to them, without blinking, they point at the number and say “112”. “But I’m C-112!” “112” they reply, pointing again at the number on the card. The worst thing is, they don’t want the card back. I literally could have walked away with my card and who knows, maybe if someone asked me for it, it could’ve have worked if I just repeated robotically “112”?! Maybe I really should’ve just done that… Instead I pointed out once again that this clearly wasn’t me and finally, one of them gets up and slowly, OH SO SLOWLY, shuffles his way along to the library with us in tow. There the librarian has decided to make an appearance. We speak to her about the card issue. At one point, she picks up the phone and starts talking about our cards. We realize soon after that she hadn’t actually called directly to whoever needed to be spoken to, but had instead phoned the assistant librarian, who was one desk away, and had asked her to call to find out what was happening… A few minutes later, a man walks over and he hands the librarian… no, not our cards, but the forms we had filled out 3 weeks earlier, still untouched and unprocessed. The librarian promises they will be ready by 4pm, but we know better, and vow not to return until the middle of next week.
Just one final story to show that the robotic “112” incident wasn’t a fluke. We went to the reading room to look at textbooks we needed for our classes. Unfortunately this is located in the same place as the desk with the student cards. When I ask for certain books, one of those same men asks me for my student card… I show them the form we received when we paid, which Sakalkhar had told me to give them, and ask for our books. He looks at the roll number and begins searching through the box of student cards. He finds one and pulls it out, hands it to me. You guessed it, it’s the 112 Indian girl’s card!!! Once again I show him the photo and my face and try to explain the librarian is taking care of our cards and that Mrs. Sakalkhar said the form would be ok for now. He grudgingly takes the form. He then begins looking for the books I’m asking him for. Among the four books I need is “International Economic Law” by S.R. Myneni. He returns with the books and Emilie and I begin to look through them. We notice that the Myneni book he gave me is actually “Economic Order in India”. Ok, honest mistake. I go back to the man and show him the book and the name of the one on my syllabus. “Myneni” he says pointing at the author’s name. “Yes but this is not the right book. I’m looking for International Economic Law, not Economic Order in India”, clearly pointing out the two titles. “Myneni” he repeats, pointing at the name. “Yes but not the same title,” I reply. “This wrong,” he says. I plead with him, “but this is the syllabus for the class, and I need this book. I’ve seen other students with this book.” He finally gives up, points to a shelf behind his desk with books on economic law, and invites me to come around. I walk over, see the right book, grab it, look at him (his face is completely uninterested), and walk back to the desk, wonder how on Earth this college can afford to employ robots as staff members.
Tuesday
Today our blind professor does show up. A highlight of the class is the continued presence of my dog companion, who again sleeps beside my desk in the aisle. To my great disappointment, the caretaker escorting our professor shoos the dog out of class but minutes later he returns through the back door and takes his place beside me and sleeps the rest of class. After our second lecture, we again head to the library to try and get our ID cards. Once again, the librarian is still not there and no one else can help us. This is a frustrating thing we will continue to experience throughout the week: If a task is not in someone’s job description, they are either incapable or unwilling to help you in any way… though it’s not much better when the task does fall within their job description! Discouraged, we walk out of the College and run into Mrs. Sakalkhar. She informs us that school will likely be extended by a week or two but they are still waiting for confirmation from the University.
Back at the hotel, Vaishali calls us and tells us she is taking some of the other Canadians to the police headquarters to get registered. She’s not sure how the process works or whether we even need to do it but invites us to come along if we like. Thinking it’s better to do this with her than alone, we agree. For the sake of a comprehensive blog, I’m going to focus now on the hoops and ladders we jumped through over the span of a couple of days, all in the hopes of registering as foreign nationals at the police HQ.
First Vaishali dropped by to talk to our hotel manager about the “A Form” they had. When a foreign national resides somewhere in India, the owners of that place must immediately fill out this form, register it with police, and then keep it with them in case the police were to drop by and check up on them. Vaishali wasn’t sure if we needed the original or not, but either way we needed a copy of the form. The assistant manager sent a member of the staff out to the nearest Xerox center on the street and came back with a copy for us. Vaishali asked if we could also borrow the original but the assistant manager wasn’t sure about this and referred her to the manager. She said she would call him later that night and hopefully when she came to pick us up the next day, we would be able to bring it with us.
The next day we were indeed able to borrow the original form, meet with Vaishali, and together we drove to the International Center at the university where we also needed another letter from the University confirming our registration. With that letter in hand, Vaishali drove us, Aisha, Kathleen, and Michelle to the police HQ. Vaishali wasn’t quite sure where it was though and we spent some time looking for it. When we finally found the police station, it turned out not to be the right one. From there we walked to another building about 10 minutes away, which of course turned out also not to be the right office. This one was where that “A Form” was registered but of course that wouldn’t be where foreign nationals would register. We were redirected to another office but since Michelle had a class to attend, we first drove her back to the University and Vaishali decided to leave her car there and that we should just take rickshaws to the Police Commissioner’s Office since she wasn’t sure where that was. It turned out it was just further down the way we had already gone, and retracing our steps once again, we made our way to the HQ (witnessing a small road accident along the way).
And by small road accident, he means a school girl riding a bike who smashed into a van who stopped suddenly!! But it turns out she seemed ok and after getting back on her bike, she was on her way again.
At the HQ, we registered with security at the entrance, found the appropriate building, passed security, and stopped in front of a hallway filled with foreigners, all bunched together and trying to enter a doorway. We asked around and the “C Form” we needed to fill out was inside that door. Thankfully someone was able to make their way through the scrum and pull out some forms for us. We headed back out of there to find the nearest Xerox machine (4 copies of the form are needed) and of course there were no photocopiers in that building. We located a Xerox place (there are a LOT of these everywhere in Pune) where we proceeded to fill out the form asking us about our citizenship, how it was acquired, where we arrived from, what we were doing there, height, eye color, etc. etc. etc. etc. Kathleen and Aisha also took passport photos as those were required on all 4 copies of the “C Form” and then just for shits and giggles, we decided to make copies of our passports, visas, and “A Forms” 4 times each just in case. Back at the HQ, the scrum of foreigners informed us that the doorway was indeed where you dropped off your forms, but that this could only be done between 11-1:30pm, and given it was now 4pm, we were shit out of luck. This meant two things, first we essentially got nothing accomplished today, despite 6 hours of running around, and secondly we would have to come back at least two more times: once simply to drop off our forms and then again another day to pick up our registration documents. Ahhhhh India! Defeated, we headed back to the University, from where Vaishali drove us back to the hotel. Later that evening the manager made sure we gave him back the original “A Form” as he would be in a lot of trouble if they were caught without it.
Not eager to repeat that marathon and a little under the weather the next couple of days, we only headed back to the police HQ after school on Friday. By the time we arrived, a sizable lineup had already formed and we patiently waited our turn as one or two at a time, foreigners were allowed in through the door to deposit their forms. During the wait we met a nice German girl recently arrived who was to study English and complete her thesis. Several Africans, Europeans, Asians and Middle Easterners (mostly Iranians) were also there and then Kara, Kathleen, and Aisha also showed up to drop off their forms. A half-hour later my turn came up (the wait having been made longer by an impromptu tea break taken by the employees).
I squeezed into the room and politely handed over my documents. 5 staff members chatted in Marathi, joking around and laughing, sometimes seemingly about me… The woman dealing with me was quite rude…
She: “Where is your “A Form”? This is not the original.”
Me: Oh God… “Yes I know, the hotel manager did not want to give it to us, but this is a copy. You can call him.”
She continues flipping pages. “Passport”
I hand her my passport and she flips through it. “This says you arrived August 3, why did you write 2nd?”
Me: “We arrived the second at night, but before midnight”.
She: “This says third, you write third”.
I correct the date on all four forms. And then the real fun begins…
She: “You had to register within 14 days of arriving. You have to pay late fee.”
Me: “But we couldn’t come sooner. We received the letter from the University just this week.”
She couldn’t have cared less. The fact we had just received the letter we needed from the University didn’t matter. The fact it was closed because of swine flu didn’t matter. This was our fault, we had to deal with it, and we had to pay the fine regardless. She was however generous enough to offer us a discount on our fine! Should we go to the bank, we would have to pay a fee of Rs 1,500 each, but if we paid right now, in cash, we would only have to pay Rs 1,000 each (i.e. pay her a nice bribe under the table and this would be taken care of). Several things bothered me about this, a lot! We were being forced to pay a significant fine for something that was in no way our fault and the only thing we could do was to pay, or pay a slightly less sizable bribe, at the POLICE commissioner’s office!!! We refused to pay, they refused to take our forms, and we left angry. On our way out we spoke to the girls who weren’t sure themselves what they were going to do. Once again, we had accomplished nothing and weren’t getting any further ahead in this.
I must say, this was the first time that I was fuming about how things work in India…I’ve been frustrated before but having to pay late fees for decisions made by the GOVERNMENT (i.e. to close the school) was definitely not our fault and we shouldn’t be penalized for it! But clearly, they didn’t care cause they were making money off of this!
Adding to our frustration, on the way home our rickshaw driver took us on a shortcut which actually turned out to be a longer detour. We argued with him and after paying him Rs 60, we walked off. He actually had the nerve to drive up to us and ask for Rs 3 more! I yelled at him telling him he was lucky I was paying him that and walked off. He continued following us, now wanting Rs 10. We ignored him and kept on walking and he finally gave up and drove us.
Now quite angered by the day’s scamming, we hid in our room and vowed not to come out until supper, lest someone else try to cheat us. A few hours later Vaishali called us. She had spoken with the other girls who had called her from the Police HQ and after speaking to the woman there (the one asking for a bribe), she told us we were right not to pay her because there was no guarantee anything would actually get done and we would have received no proof of payment. She then gave us more good news: After speaking with the coordinator of the German exchange program to Maharashtra, she found out that if our Visa was valid for less than 180 days, we didn’t even need to register as foreign nationals! We looked at our visas and in very fine print, it was indeed written that. Not surprisingly, everyone at the HQ had forgotten to mention this to us! And with that, several useless frustrating hours, pointless rickshaw rides and useless photocopying later, our experience registering as foreign nationals was over.
Sadly, this wasn’t the only administrative hell we had to deal with that week. By Saturday, we still had not received our student cards, which we needed both to take out books and to use the computer room. After visiting the library on a daily basis (the librarian was never there), the desk where all students go to get their cards and to the man in another office who had taken our forms 3 weeks earlier, we still didn’t have our student cards. The most entertaining illustrations of what we had to deal with follow.
We went to the library and they directed us to the desk down another hall where all students get their cards. There we asked for our cards, showing the forms we had gotten with our rolls numbers: C-112 and C-113. They ask us for our roll numbers. Despite having already given them the form and pointing out the number, we repeat it several times. They start looking through a box of student cards. Nope, no card there. They direct us to the librarian. When we’re told at the library a few days later to go back to that desk, we ask again for our cards: C-112 and C-113. They look through the box once again and pull out a card. I take the card and look at it. Well let’s see… I’m not in first year… That’s not my name… I’m not Indian… Oh and I’m not a girl! When I point this out to them, without blinking, they point at the number and say “112”. “But I’m C-112!” “112” they reply, pointing again at the number on the card. The worst thing is, they don’t want the card back. I literally could have walked away with my card and who knows, maybe if someone asked me for it, it could’ve have worked if I just repeated robotically “112”?! Maybe I really should’ve just done that… Instead I pointed out once again that this clearly wasn’t me and finally, one of them gets up and slowly, OH SO SLOWLY, shuffles his way along to the library with us in tow. There the librarian has decided to make an appearance. We speak to her about the card issue. At one point, she picks up the phone and starts talking about our cards. We realize soon after that she hadn’t actually called directly to whoever needed to be spoken to, but had instead phoned the assistant librarian, who was one desk away, and had asked her to call to find out what was happening… A few minutes later, a man walks over and he hands the librarian… no, not our cards, but the forms we had filled out 3 weeks earlier, still untouched and unprocessed. The librarian promises they will be ready by 4pm, but we know better, and vow not to return until the middle of next week.
Just one final story to show that the robotic “112” incident wasn’t a fluke. We went to the reading room to look at textbooks we needed for our classes. Unfortunately this is located in the same place as the desk with the student cards. When I ask for certain books, one of those same men asks me for my student card… I show them the form we received when we paid, which Sakalkhar had told me to give them, and ask for our books. He looks at the roll number and begins searching through the box of student cards. He finds one and pulls it out, hands it to me. You guessed it, it’s the 112 Indian girl’s card!!! Once again I show him the photo and my face and try to explain the librarian is taking care of our cards and that Mrs. Sakalkhar said the form would be ok for now. He grudgingly takes the form. He then begins looking for the books I’m asking him for. Among the four books I need is “International Economic Law” by S.R. Myneni. He returns with the books and Emilie and I begin to look through them. We notice that the Myneni book he gave me is actually “Economic Order in India”. Ok, honest mistake. I go back to the man and show him the book and the name of the one on my syllabus. “Myneni” he says pointing at the author’s name. “Yes but this is not the right book. I’m looking for International Economic Law, not Economic Order in India”, clearly pointing out the two titles. “Myneni” he repeats, pointing at the name. “Yes but not the same title,” I reply. “This wrong,” he says. I plead with him, “but this is the syllabus for the class, and I need this book. I’ve seen other students with this book.” He finally gives up, points to a shelf behind his desk with books on economic law, and invites me to come around. I walk over, see the right book, grab it, look at him (his face is completely uninterested), and walk back to the desk, wonder how on Earth this college can afford to employ robots as staff members.
Day 23: Hanging out with the Canucks
As we were chilling in our room trying to figure out if we should just chill out or go do something, Aisha called us to let us know that the rest of the gang was going to the German Bakery. She wanted to know if we wanted to join them and then go to their place to watch a movie. We were debating going to the German Bakery since we had already been (and it’s not that spectacular!) and the rickshaw ride there would be pretty expensive (for our new standards anyways!). So we declined going to the bakery but agreed to meet them at their place at 5pm to watch a movie. Lucky for us, they have internet at home so we’d also be able to fix my computer…or try to anyways!
So around 4:30pm we made our way over, met up with the gang and we all went out for supper at the little restaurant across the street from their place. We went back to their place and while Aisha and I watched HP, Yan and Kathleen traded pictures and movies and Yan also started fixing the computer. We went back home at around 10:30pm and of course had to argue with a rickshaw driver again who wanted to charge us Rs250 to bring us back to the hotel (when to get there we paid no more than Rs60) because it was dark outside!!
Some drivers want to charge more at night, either asking for a fixed much higher price or to go with the meter but charge at 1.5 times the regular rate. Usually there are enough drivers around that you can find one to drive you at a reasonable price but in this case, the other Canadians live in a more upscale neighborhood where all the drivers expect to be able to charge more. We finally settled on Rs100 (about $2.50) with a driver for this ride.
We made it home and prepared ourselves mentally for the early morning since school was starting, for sure this time, tomorrow morning.
So around 4:30pm we made our way over, met up with the gang and we all went out for supper at the little restaurant across the street from their place. We went back to their place and while Aisha and I watched HP, Yan and Kathleen traded pictures and movies and Yan also started fixing the computer. We went back home at around 10:30pm and of course had to argue with a rickshaw driver again who wanted to charge us Rs250 to bring us back to the hotel (when to get there we paid no more than Rs60) because it was dark outside!!
Some drivers want to charge more at night, either asking for a fixed much higher price or to go with the meter but charge at 1.5 times the regular rate. Usually there are enough drivers around that you can find one to drive you at a reasonable price but in this case, the other Canadians live in a more upscale neighborhood where all the drivers expect to be able to charge more. We finally settled on Rs100 (about $2.50) with a driver for this ride.
We made it home and prepared ourselves mentally for the early morning since school was starting, for sure this time, tomorrow morning.
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