Monday, June 21, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Pat's awesome experience and updates
A couple of days ago, I got my first naked massage. Of course neither I nor Sasha had any clue that was what was in store for me. We were simply walking around in the rain and not really sure what to do with our last afternoon in Kerala and saw a spa and figured to see how much it would cost to get one. At 500 rupees for a massage and an herbal steam bath we figured what the hell, it’ll be a good time. The place seemed very professional and clearly stated that there would be no happy enders (in less blunt terms than that), so we were both fully content. I would have a man give me one and Sasha would have a woman, something likewise we were fully content with, as we have both had people of the same sexes give us massages. So when it came time to get our massages, we entered into different rooms.
As I have had a number of massages in the past I knew of course to take off my clothing while keeping on my boxers for both hygienic and professional reasons, but that day it was going to be different. As I approached the bed the man said to me to take of my boxers, which at first I thought was simply a communication misunderstanding. Wrong! For a moment I questioned if I’d be comfortable doing this, but I figured I’d be under a cloth or something instead of just laying out there for the viewing. Wrong! I was on the bed for the next hour with a fellow running up and down my naked body with his hands. Now I must assure at no time did he do anything that I’d question to be outside the professional code of naked massages, but this did not stop me from laughing non-stop and thinking what Sasha would think of this. I should add that the fellow giving me the massage was a very nice guy who had just finished studying for his certificate and getting married soon, After my massage, I got into a little box (still naked) and sat there as stream filled the box with my head sticking out at the top. Sadly, I didn’t think to ask the fellow to take a picture for all you guys to see on facebook. After the steam bath, my fellow figured to dry me off, which of course made me laugh even more and praying to God Sasha didn’t come into the room because I’d start to look like Ted Haggard. When I exited and saw Sasha, I told her what happened laughing and her response outside of laughing at me was, “They made me keep my underwear on!”
Anyone who knows where to find a Tamil Tigers flag? No matter how many store owners Pat asks it sets an uncomfortable and awkward tension immediately. Other than that, we have 13 days left on our trip – in Pondicherry currently and trying to make our way to Mumbai, and then to Delhi.
As I have had a number of massages in the past I knew of course to take off my clothing while keeping on my boxers for both hygienic and professional reasons, but that day it was going to be different. As I approached the bed the man said to me to take of my boxers, which at first I thought was simply a communication misunderstanding. Wrong! For a moment I questioned if I’d be comfortable doing this, but I figured I’d be under a cloth or something instead of just laying out there for the viewing. Wrong! I was on the bed for the next hour with a fellow running up and down my naked body with his hands. Now I must assure at no time did he do anything that I’d question to be outside the professional code of naked massages, but this did not stop me from laughing non-stop and thinking what Sasha would think of this. I should add that the fellow giving me the massage was a very nice guy who had just finished studying for his certificate and getting married soon, After my massage, I got into a little box (still naked) and sat there as stream filled the box with my head sticking out at the top. Sadly, I didn’t think to ask the fellow to take a picture for all you guys to see on facebook. After the steam bath, my fellow figured to dry me off, which of course made me laugh even more and praying to God Sasha didn’t come into the room because I’d start to look like Ted Haggard. When I exited and saw Sasha, I told her what happened laughing and her response outside of laughing at me was, “They made me keep my underwear on!”
Anyone who knows where to find a Tamil Tigers flag? No matter how many store owners Pat asks it sets an uncomfortable and awkward tension immediately. Other than that, we have 13 days left on our trip – in Pondicherry currently and trying to make our way to Mumbai, and then to Delhi.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Finally, a nice story
We've over the last month and half have meet numerous people that I'm sure we'll both keep in contact with for many years to come. This is one of the great things about traveling is that you can meet a tremendous amount of different people from different countries that you have much in common with, as you have all had the Indian experience (the Kashmir experience further more for that matter). If I were to attempt to sell someone on why they should go to India, this certainly would be one of my major selling points: you'll meet people from every country, but you'll all share a similar experience that will never leave you.
This is all true, but we believe that in the last day we both had one of the more heart-filled experiences. Sasha and myself we were walking about from lunch to our hotel because it was raining like the devil was beating his mother. You must understand, we're in the most southern province of India and in summer that means only two things: super cheap hotels and monsoons. So we have the setting: it was raining hard. We figured that we'd just take it easy in our cozy colonial style town and play the same card game that we've played for the last six weeks, but as we walked down a street that had about 5inches of water on it we heard some strange noise. I saw a ton of birds up on a tree trying to get away from the rain and just figured it was them, but Sasha started to look into a grassy area because she is still able to follow sounds because she didn't destroy her hearing with an ipod. What did she find? A three week old kitten crying that we still have not determined the name of yet (the debate continues). We were not too sure how the cat got there. It could have been left there by a person or abandoned by its mother, but in such an unsafe area (close to the road that was in flooding with rain) we could easily assume that no one was coming back for it. Personally, my inclination was to leave it while Sasha right away picked it up with her scarf and into her arms. This is particularly ironic seeing that I'm veg and she is half Serbian... that speaks for itself.
The kitten that we had found could hardly walk a few inches without falling and looked like it was about to starve to death. We figured that we should get to a vet as soon as possible and get some information about young kittens. Neither of us, I should add, have ever owned or wanted a cat, and therefore didn't have a clue. Thus, we set out to find a rickshaw in the rain and get our new friend some help. Sadly, on Saturdays the vet closed early in the afternoon, so we'd be forced to wait till the next day till we could see a vet. Seeing that both of us were clueless about what to do, we asked the driver what kittens eat and he told us to get some milk, so we got some milk and got a box so we could smuggle our new friend into our room. The major worry was that we wouldn't be able to get her inside because she had kept crying whenever she moved an inch away from Sasha, but thankfully she made no noises and we got passed our toothless (mind you, very friendly toothless) hostel owner.
We got our friend into the room and dried her off. Sasha told me to go down to the computer cafe and find some information about the diet of kittens, in which I soon found out that cow's milk could give kittens a serious case of the shits and lead to getting dehydrated, and under her weak condition most likely die. Just to make note of this, you should only give kittens goats milk if momma cat isn't around, but in the cruel faith that is our lives we were surrounded by goats but no way to milk them! I keep on writing milf instead of milk for some reason. I just did it again. Don't look up "milf" mom. Lucky for us, we found out that basically no cat will say no to tuna and we were sitting next to the sea, so tuna it was. Our friend ate that stuff up like there was no tomorrow and slept for the next 12 hours.
This morning we woke up early to get down to the vet and see what we could do for the cat's health and see about shelters or potential means of getting it a home. We both were not childish enough to think that this would be easy as you can walk down any street in India and see goats, cows, stray dogs and cats, and if you're lucky, maybe a 4 meter snake, so animal control isn't a pressing priority here. This of course meant we might have to put our friend down if we couldn't find her a home because she would die a much more painful death in no time on the streets. We had hope that maybe one of the individuals we have spoken to who were staying here for a prolong period would be interested, but there was no telling if they would.
So we got to the vet and waited for him to show up. In the meantime, our friend made friends with a cat hanging around the hospital that had a broken leg and according to one of the people working there was left there by someone a week ago. The vet showed up and we told him the story. He said that this cat was healthy in terms of diseases, but said the chances of finding a home were next to none. Apparently, in India it isn't very popular to have cats or any pets, and if you do it is dog most of the time. As a result, I brought up the issue of putting the cat down in a couple days if we couldn't find a potential owner, which lead Sasha to begin tearing up. Just as we begun to speak about it, a lady who lived next to the vet came in to see the doctor, and saw Sasha getting upset. The lady didn't speak any English but could see Sasha was very very sad and asked what was wrong. The doctor explained that we might have to put down the cat if we couldn't find an owner. She then simply said it was too early for the cat to die and said she would take her. We asked if the doctor knew this woman and he said yes and she was a good person too. We agreed to give her the cat and offered to pay for any needed shots or food, which she declined and the doctor said he'd do it for free. As a result, our friend now has a new home and hopefully a happy and loving owner.
The question remains: What should we name the cat? Sasha wanted to name it Pygmee for some unknown reason... She says that it would be a good name because the cat was so tiny, but I thought it sounded like some reject person... you don't need to rub it in the cat's face that its mother most likely didn't love it! I thought Dal was a nice name because that's what I eat everyday. The other name we came up with was Abbeycat for Humanity, which is a mixture of the lovely friend of ours Abbey and the Christian organization that gives people houses. The debate continues but tell us what you think we should name the cat? Look at the pictures on Facebook. Go Slovenia and Serbia tonight!
This is all true, but we believe that in the last day we both had one of the more heart-filled experiences. Sasha and myself we were walking about from lunch to our hotel because it was raining like the devil was beating his mother. You must understand, we're in the most southern province of India and in summer that means only two things: super cheap hotels and monsoons. So we have the setting: it was raining hard. We figured that we'd just take it easy in our cozy colonial style town and play the same card game that we've played for the last six weeks, but as we walked down a street that had about 5inches of water on it we heard some strange noise. I saw a ton of birds up on a tree trying to get away from the rain and just figured it was them, but Sasha started to look into a grassy area because she is still able to follow sounds because she didn't destroy her hearing with an ipod. What did she find? A three week old kitten crying that we still have not determined the name of yet (the debate continues). We were not too sure how the cat got there. It could have been left there by a person or abandoned by its mother, but in such an unsafe area (close to the road that was in flooding with rain) we could easily assume that no one was coming back for it. Personally, my inclination was to leave it while Sasha right away picked it up with her scarf and into her arms. This is particularly ironic seeing that I'm veg and she is half Serbian... that speaks for itself.
The kitten that we had found could hardly walk a few inches without falling and looked like it was about to starve to death. We figured that we should get to a vet as soon as possible and get some information about young kittens. Neither of us, I should add, have ever owned or wanted a cat, and therefore didn't have a clue. Thus, we set out to find a rickshaw in the rain and get our new friend some help. Sadly, on Saturdays the vet closed early in the afternoon, so we'd be forced to wait till the next day till we could see a vet. Seeing that both of us were clueless about what to do, we asked the driver what kittens eat and he told us to get some milk, so we got some milk and got a box so we could smuggle our new friend into our room. The major worry was that we wouldn't be able to get her inside because she had kept crying whenever she moved an inch away from Sasha, but thankfully she made no noises and we got passed our toothless (mind you, very friendly toothless) hostel owner.
We got our friend into the room and dried her off. Sasha told me to go down to the computer cafe and find some information about the diet of kittens, in which I soon found out that cow's milk could give kittens a serious case of the shits and lead to getting dehydrated, and under her weak condition most likely die. Just to make note of this, you should only give kittens goats milk if momma cat isn't around, but in the cruel faith that is our lives we were surrounded by goats but no way to milk them! I keep on writing milf instead of milk for some reason. I just did it again. Don't look up "milf" mom. Lucky for us, we found out that basically no cat will say no to tuna and we were sitting next to the sea, so tuna it was. Our friend ate that stuff up like there was no tomorrow and slept for the next 12 hours.
This morning we woke up early to get down to the vet and see what we could do for the cat's health and see about shelters or potential means of getting it a home. We both were not childish enough to think that this would be easy as you can walk down any street in India and see goats, cows, stray dogs and cats, and if you're lucky, maybe a 4 meter snake, so animal control isn't a pressing priority here. This of course meant we might have to put our friend down if we couldn't find her a home because she would die a much more painful death in no time on the streets. We had hope that maybe one of the individuals we have spoken to who were staying here for a prolong period would be interested, but there was no telling if they would.
So we got to the vet and waited for him to show up. In the meantime, our friend made friends with a cat hanging around the hospital that had a broken leg and according to one of the people working there was left there by someone a week ago. The vet showed up and we told him the story. He said that this cat was healthy in terms of diseases, but said the chances of finding a home were next to none. Apparently, in India it isn't very popular to have cats or any pets, and if you do it is dog most of the time. As a result, I brought up the issue of putting the cat down in a couple days if we couldn't find a potential owner, which lead Sasha to begin tearing up. Just as we begun to speak about it, a lady who lived next to the vet came in to see the doctor, and saw Sasha getting upset. The lady didn't speak any English but could see Sasha was very very sad and asked what was wrong. The doctor explained that we might have to put down the cat if we couldn't find an owner. She then simply said it was too early for the cat to die and said she would take her. We asked if the doctor knew this woman and he said yes and she was a good person too. We agreed to give her the cat and offered to pay for any needed shots or food, which she declined and the doctor said he'd do it for free. As a result, our friend now has a new home and hopefully a happy and loving owner.
The question remains: What should we name the cat? Sasha wanted to name it Pygmee for some unknown reason... She says that it would be a good name because the cat was so tiny, but I thought it sounded like some reject person... you don't need to rub it in the cat's face that its mother most likely didn't love it! I thought Dal was a nice name because that's what I eat everyday. The other name we came up with was Abbeycat for Humanity, which is a mixture of the lovely friend of ours Abbey and the Christian organization that gives people houses. The debate continues but tell us what you think we should name the cat? Look at the pictures on Facebook. Go Slovenia and Serbia tonight!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
BURN
Pat and I were heading back to our hostel after having lunch and on our way we passed a soccer/cricket field, flooded with boys enjoying the afternoon cricket play after a long day at school. Pat kept on looking back to the field, tempted to join in on the fun. Being a westerner, you're bound to be welcomed with much enthusiasm. With that in mind, Pat approached the group of boys, beaming with confidence that the boys would fight over him which team he would be playing for. Not. They all flocked ahead of him, throwing their fists in the air repeatitively screaming "You GO! You can't play!" and other uncomprehensible stuff. Am certain it wasn't positive.
With a dissappointed and slightly shocked look on his face he almost whispers "They wouldn't let me play cricket. Most boys would let me play cricket with them. These boys aren't very nice." Aw.
With a dissappointed and slightly shocked look on his face he almost whispers "They wouldn't let me play cricket. Most boys would let me play cricket with them. These boys aren't very nice." Aw.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Koochi-koo
And yes, we live to tell about it. The 50 hour trip that break most women and men, Sasha, Patrick, our new friend Rosie, and of course Sultan (the man who told Pat and Sasha that they're going to hell) made it. Rosie is a lovely English-French woman with more charm in her pinky than Pat in his entire body. Sultan, a lovely Muslim man from some former Dutch colony, tried and unsuccessfully did not converted Pat and Sasha by telling them that they were going to hell to wearing shorts, playing cards, and of a number of other offenses. Else wise, he was a very very nice fellow. Though, I doubt he would have enjoyed the fact we were drinking rum in the bottom bunk while he was doing his afternoon prayer right above us... just a hunch if he doesn't like Rosie's shorts.
Fort Kochin (not a dirty place) located in Kerala, surprisingly reminds us of Montreal, specifically the Plateau. No we are not talking about hipster trash, just the colourful housing. The weather, like any Canadian's favourite topic, is quite nice. Humid, but oh so fresh, hence the Monsoon. Plus there are churches everywhere! Team Christian/Whitey is in friendly territory here in Fort Kochin.
We'll be staying here for a while we think. We're certainly not going to be taking any GD trains for a while.
Fort Kochin (not a dirty place) located in Kerala, surprisingly reminds us of Montreal, specifically the Plateau. No we are not talking about hipster trash, just the colourful housing. The weather, like any Canadian's favourite topic, is quite nice. Humid, but oh so fresh, hence the Monsoon. Plus there are churches everywhere! Team Christian/Whitey is in friendly territory here in Fort Kochin.
We'll be staying here for a while we think. We're certainly not going to be taking any GD trains for a while.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Back in the Belly
Since we got into India, everyone has said that Delhi is a shit city. To a certain degree we could acknowledge the arguments put forth about this.
1) You cannot see the sky at all because the pollution is that bad
2) You'll never stop getting ripped off the moment you step into the city
3) There is zero structure to the city, and the little there is under construction
All still very true, but we decided to take a different approach to the city. We're staying in a slightly more costly place (an extra $5) then we're used to and eating Western food. This means for the next day, we are taking a trip to the West. Yes, that means HBO and TGI Fridays! Not entirely, but somewhat. See, Sasha (and I mean only Sasha) was getting just a tad too sick of all this charming stuff like temples and people shitting basically everywhere. Not to sound higher than thou, but I still find it extremely funny when I see a group of men shitting in a circle, so I was alright, so I was alright. SIDENOTE: someone is watching women touch their tits next to us... he also has a shaved head with a little gay pony tail...
Anyways, we're doing something beyond absurd and something I pledged not to do even after both Sasha and Mark said it was the greatest idea ever. Tomorrow Sasha and I will take a train from the capital all the way to the most southern point of India. That means we'll be on the train for the next 50 hours. When booking this train, the guy issuing the ticket began to laugh at us and laughed even harder when I asked if it was direct. There are 41 stops. So much for "express" in "Kerala Express". That guy is still on "Sneha_hot.boobs" on youtube.... creep
It makes sense though logistically and economically, both Sasha and I rationalized. See we wanted to head south and neither one of us really had any real desire to go to Mumbai, which is the most costly area in all of India in terms of hostels - about double everywhere else. Below that is Goa, which is basically the Caribbean for European tourists and cost so much. So, instead we're going to a place that has the highest literacy rate in India (thank you Communist Party), a diverse religious population, and some of the most beautiful scenes in all of India. We're really looking forward to going there, if of course both do not kill each other and the others on the train after the 40th hour (God those last couple hours...). That wasn't a threat I swear Government of India and India Railway Commission. So, we wont be on the blog for the next while but I'm sure we'll have a lot of stories when we get there.
Love
Sasha and Pat
PS. He's looking at Brazilian women now in little to no clothing.
1) You cannot see the sky at all because the pollution is that bad
2) You'll never stop getting ripped off the moment you step into the city
3) There is zero structure to the city, and the little there is under construction
All still very true, but we decided to take a different approach to the city. We're staying in a slightly more costly place (an extra $5) then we're used to and eating Western food. This means for the next day, we are taking a trip to the West. Yes, that means HBO and TGI Fridays! Not entirely, but somewhat. See, Sasha (and I mean only Sasha) was getting just a tad too sick of all this charming stuff like temples and people shitting basically everywhere. Not to sound higher than thou, but I still find it extremely funny when I see a group of men shitting in a circle, so I was alright, so I was alright. SIDENOTE: someone is watching women touch their tits next to us... he also has a shaved head with a little gay pony tail...
Anyways, we're doing something beyond absurd and something I pledged not to do even after both Sasha and Mark said it was the greatest idea ever. Tomorrow Sasha and I will take a train from the capital all the way to the most southern point of India. That means we'll be on the train for the next 50 hours. When booking this train, the guy issuing the ticket began to laugh at us and laughed even harder when I asked if it was direct. There are 41 stops. So much for "express" in "Kerala Express". That guy is still on "Sneha_hot.boobs" on youtube.... creep
It makes sense though logistically and economically, both Sasha and I rationalized. See we wanted to head south and neither one of us really had any real desire to go to Mumbai, which is the most costly area in all of India in terms of hostels - about double everywhere else. Below that is Goa, which is basically the Caribbean for European tourists and cost so much. So, instead we're going to a place that has the highest literacy rate in India (thank you Communist Party), a diverse religious population, and some of the most beautiful scenes in all of India. We're really looking forward to going there, if of course both do not kill each other and the others on the train after the 40th hour (God those last couple hours...). That wasn't a threat I swear Government of India and India Railway Commission. So, we wont be on the blog for the next while but I'm sure we'll have a lot of stories when we get there.
Love
Sasha and Pat
PS. He's looking at Brazilian women now in little to no clothing.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
A clarification: Pat is back to being normal, and being normal means an endless number of tormenting jokes not having been done/told over the past few days have come to kick Sasha in the ass in ten-folds. She liked him better when he was too drained to speak.
Before going into details of the whereabouts, we'd like to, especially Sasha, thank Abbey Mahon for making sure that our apartment hasn't been burnt down and collecting important mail - what an angel! Pat's brother Ryan thought someone had broken into the apartment, but everything is cool - and Abbey; you should stop by and say hello!
We bussed down to Rishikesh from Mcleodganj, for 12 hours, at night, on a narrow dirt road, in the mountains (serpentines), while it was pissing down rain and thundering hard. Oh, did we mention that our bus didn't have any windshield wipers? Well, it didn't. At least the bus made it on time - point A and B. That was a first.
3 hours into the trip, the bus took a break and we headed for the lavatories. In India the 'squat-toilet' (google it) is the most common way of doing one's private business - or in the open nature. As westerners, we prefer a bit of privacy no matter how tempting it is to just whip it out. Pat saw several kids pissing on the train tracks in public and immediately added this on his 'India things to do list'.
Anywho, Sasha went in to do her thing and with horror feces started to bubble up from the hole.
to be continued
Before going into details of the whereabouts, we'd like to, especially Sasha, thank Abbey Mahon for making sure that our apartment hasn't been burnt down and collecting important mail - what an angel! Pat's brother Ryan thought someone had broken into the apartment, but everything is cool - and Abbey; you should stop by and say hello!
We bussed down to Rishikesh from Mcleodganj, for 12 hours, at night, on a narrow dirt road, in the mountains (serpentines), while it was pissing down rain and thundering hard. Oh, did we mention that our bus didn't have any windshield wipers? Well, it didn't. At least the bus made it on time - point A and B. That was a first.
3 hours into the trip, the bus took a break and we headed for the lavatories. In India the 'squat-toilet' (google it) is the most common way of doing one's private business - or in the open nature. As westerners, we prefer a bit of privacy no matter how tempting it is to just whip it out. Pat saw several kids pissing on the train tracks in public and immediately added this on his 'India things to do list'.
Anywho, Sasha went in to do her thing and with horror feces started to bubble up from the hole.
to be continued
Monday, May 24, 2010
Oopsie Poopsie!
This is no laughing matter but 48 hours ago Pat was vomiting uncontrollably every 5-10 minutes for 12 hours straight. We were staying at a cheap but overpriced hotel considering the broken down toilet, planks for beds, and loose bowel colored walls which Sasha believes only contributed more to Pat's ill-being...we left them a little surprise, so I guess we got our moneys worth :)
Pat: What exactly happened I'm not entirely positive, other than I ate something I shouldn't have. I do believe it could have been a overpriced bean wrap, but I'm not positive so there will be legal recourse. Anyhow, I had a quick nap and woke up for dinner with Sasha and next thing I noticed I was getting sick...
Basically anything that I put in myself for the next 12 hours came out more north than south... The lucky bastard I am (Sasha wrote that), my beautiful, charming, kind, loving (Sasha edited some of this), and simply amazing girl friend (wife to Muslims and traditional Hindu families that we met/meet) ensured that I got the proper medical help I needed. Because I was so thirsty, I began to dream about water. I think I even pledged myself to water conservation to God if I could have a glass of water. I did look like a small ancient raisin man.
Thus, I was at the hospital 8 am sharp. The hospital that we went to was set up by the Italian government and was largely ran by a Tibetan staff. In no time, I was treated by a lovely Tibetan nurse who screamed "Relax! Reeelax!" at me every time I sat. God I love Water right now. I have to be honest, I know that I've said some cold things about the entire Tibetan independence movement, but the people here have been really kind to us and we couldn't be anymore thankful to the nurses that helped me out.
For the next couple days we have to stick around here just to make sure that we killed the bug that I got. The doctor believes it could be Amoeba - a horror story shared already by Ross, an extremely charming South African that spoke fluent German and liked to get drunk and fight neo-Nazis. After we figure this out, we'll be back on the road and enjoying solid foods/shits!
ps. photos are finally up on Sasha's Facebook after several trial and errors of multiple Internet cafes.
Love
Pat and Sasha
Pat: What exactly happened I'm not entirely positive, other than I ate something I shouldn't have. I do believe it could have been a overpriced bean wrap, but I'm not positive so there will be legal recourse. Anyhow, I had a quick nap and woke up for dinner with Sasha and next thing I noticed I was getting sick...
Basically anything that I put in myself for the next 12 hours came out more north than south... The lucky bastard I am (Sasha wrote that), my beautiful, charming, kind, loving (Sasha edited some of this), and simply amazing girl friend (wife to Muslims and traditional Hindu families that we met/meet) ensured that I got the proper medical help I needed. Because I was so thirsty, I began to dream about water. I think I even pledged myself to water conservation to God if I could have a glass of water. I did look like a small ancient raisin man.
Thus, I was at the hospital 8 am sharp. The hospital that we went to was set up by the Italian government and was largely ran by a Tibetan staff. In no time, I was treated by a lovely Tibetan nurse who screamed "Relax! Reeelax!" at me every time I sat. God I love Water right now. I have to be honest, I know that I've said some cold things about the entire Tibetan independence movement, but the people here have been really kind to us and we couldn't be anymore thankful to the nurses that helped me out.
For the next couple days we have to stick around here just to make sure that we killed the bug that I got. The doctor believes it could be Amoeba - a horror story shared already by Ross, an extremely charming South African that spoke fluent German and liked to get drunk and fight neo-Nazis. After we figure this out, we'll be back on the road and enjoying solid foods/shits!
ps. photos are finally up on Sasha's Facebook after several trial and errors of multiple Internet cafes.
Love
Pat and Sasha
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Dharamsala
Well we haven't actually seen him, but he's our neighbor. No. Not Santa, but the next best thing - the Dalai Lama.
Although, the truth of the matter is that I don't frankly have much sympathy for the Tibetan struggle. I do not ignore the tremendous human suffering that has been inflicted upon these people, I simply just do not get into the game of slogans and t-shirts that are more of a fashion statement. I would also like to add that one should be highly critical of the attempts of neo-conservatives and other nutters to use Tibet to simply attack China while simultaneously ignoring the suffering of groups, like the people of Chechnya because they do not uphold to the superficial mantel of Gandhi, King, and Mandela. I believe there is an artificial notion that Tibetans are somehow superior to any other displaced people, but that is just bullshit and a cliche. If we go by the simple assumption that all human suffering is equal and must be prevented, then would it not make sense to privilege those that hold the greatest potential to be prevented? Upon that assumption, the growing strength and clot of the Chinese government would not be the settings for a potential shift in human rights policy. So, if you care more about human rights and less about t-shirts, then look elsewhere to make a change.
Any-who, this political shift in our blog (this is not to imply in anyway that Sasha either endorses this view or supported me even writing it) is reflective of the city we are in now. We're taking a break from going from one city to another in favor of just chilling out for a couple days. As a result, we're doing some reading and eating well. Our room is a couple hundred RB cheaper then most of the places we've stayed in because it isn't in a major city, so we're doing a little more stuff. I'm finally reading Said's Orientalism and, I think, Sasha is reading some Richler.
It is an interesting city to be in because there is a lot more tourists here. After three weeks of playing the game of "I spy white people outside a hostel", there's a great abundance of them here. Sadly as a result of the high number of white people we now forgo the customary "hello" and possible conversation that follows for being such a small minority. Equally so, we've not been regularly asked for either hugs, handshakes, or have our photos taken from different people. In sum, it is a little lonely to be honest. So when we return to Canada, we're undertaking a massive campaign to bring back the Seinfeld idea of having people wear name-tags so they can greet each other and say, "hello". We believe this will create a more friendly and homely Canada.
Love
Pat and Sasha
Although, the truth of the matter is that I don't frankly have much sympathy for the Tibetan struggle. I do not ignore the tremendous human suffering that has been inflicted upon these people, I simply just do not get into the game of slogans and t-shirts that are more of a fashion statement. I would also like to add that one should be highly critical of the attempts of neo-conservatives and other nutters to use Tibet to simply attack China while simultaneously ignoring the suffering of groups, like the people of Chechnya because they do not uphold to the superficial mantel of Gandhi, King, and Mandela. I believe there is an artificial notion that Tibetans are somehow superior to any other displaced people, but that is just bullshit and a cliche. If we go by the simple assumption that all human suffering is equal and must be prevented, then would it not make sense to privilege those that hold the greatest potential to be prevented? Upon that assumption, the growing strength and clot of the Chinese government would not be the settings for a potential shift in human rights policy. So, if you care more about human rights and less about t-shirts, then look elsewhere to make a change.
Any-who, this political shift in our blog (this is not to imply in anyway that Sasha either endorses this view or supported me even writing it) is reflective of the city we are in now. We're taking a break from going from one city to another in favor of just chilling out for a couple days. As a result, we're doing some reading and eating well. Our room is a couple hundred RB cheaper then most of the places we've stayed in because it isn't in a major city, so we're doing a little more stuff. I'm finally reading Said's Orientalism and, I think, Sasha is reading some Richler.
It is an interesting city to be in because there is a lot more tourists here. After three weeks of playing the game of "I spy white people outside a hostel", there's a great abundance of them here. Sadly as a result of the high number of white people we now forgo the customary "hello" and possible conversation that follows for being such a small minority. Equally so, we've not been regularly asked for either hugs, handshakes, or have our photos taken from different people. In sum, it is a little lonely to be honest. So when we return to Canada, we're undertaking a massive campaign to bring back the Seinfeld idea of having people wear name-tags so they can greet each other and say, "hello". We believe this will create a more friendly and homely Canada.
Love
Pat and Sasha
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
In Amritsar, Punjab, the best state of all. For those who give the little people in the shadow a chance, The Golden Temple is an absolute must. It's beauty is modest and intricate - much like the Taj Mahal. What makes this temple all the more impressive is it's massive bling-bling dome.
On our train ride to Amritsar we met two Indian fellows - the names were a bit difficult to remember, so we gave them good old English names that sounded most like their real names; Rupert and Richard. They preferred it over Kumar 1 & Kumar 2.
Pat and I were planning to hang around the Golden Temple for the day but ended up at the Pakistani border to witness the Indian and Pakistani government change flags.
Will follow up on this soon, we both had an eventful but exhausting day. Time to hit the zzz's.
Love
Pat and Sash
On our train ride to Amritsar we met two Indian fellows - the names were a bit difficult to remember, so we gave them good old English names that sounded most like their real names; Rupert and Richard. They preferred it over Kumar 1 & Kumar 2.
Pat and I were planning to hang around the Golden Temple for the day but ended up at the Pakistani border to witness the Indian and Pakistani government change flags.
Will follow up on this soon, we both had an eventful but exhausting day. Time to hit the zzz's.
Love
Pat and Sash
Friday, May 14, 2010
Winkie in Pinky
That means Patrick is in Jaipur - the Pink City. It's his mother's pet name for him, and now you all know!
The hostel we are staying at is phenomenal, by far the best one we've stayed at so far. Though the owner, Devendra was unwilling to bargain, we have been tremendously content with the service. The owner has been very helpful in suggesting us places to go and our new favourite restaurant,the Mahon, and the only one we have eaten at so far 4 meals in total. To be honest, we tried to find another restaurant to diversify but we just ended up at the same restaurant in another part of town. The restaurant name was written in Hindi! Pat is in heaven becuase it's vegetarian,and it's all Dal - lentil stuff.
As I (Pat) went into the bedroom last night, I noticed a little black thing moving in my bathroom. We're not sure if it was a large mouse or a small rat, but according to one theory it was a rat because of the length of its tail. Of course I informed the owner, who in turn took care of the issue quickly and wiped of the bill for one beer and gave another beer for free. Sadly, as Sasha and myself are like 12 year-olds, we struggled with our first one, so we have a nice warm beer for the trip tomorrow. It should be noted that one King Fisher beer is 1L, so we're not entirely pathetic.
Back to Jaipur - the markets/bazaars. The most organized chaos to date. Sasha nearly bumped into a camel while walking on a side street, and that's just a fraction of what else goes on in that area. We're looking forward to our next trip back to pick up some gifts for the families and friends back home.
We appologize for making India sound like shit. It isn't at all. It is beautiful, but within that beauty there is something very challenging. You have to become used to people trying to rip you off and you have to understand there is no end to animals (and their shit) on the street. There is also more poverty than you can ever shake a stick at. Within all this, there remains a highly exciting environment and more than enough beauty to counter all the negatives. Contrary to the tropes about Indians, they are very charming, fun, and willing to have a laugh at both yours and their expense, excluding matters of cricket. So, you simply have to accept the shortcomings and understand that India is still evolving from a third world status. If you can do such, with no doubt you'll see a country unlike anything that we've (and most likely yourself too)have ever experienced in our lives.
Sadly, it is our last night with Mark. We part on the morrow, as sadly he's going back to Ireland and we cannot deny we're heartbroken. How do you replace a man who took a 26 hour bus ride because he thought it would be more interesting than a 1 1/2 hour flight or has eaten everything close to shit in the entire Indian diet? We just don't know! Mark, we love you!
We love you all
Sasha and Pat
PS. Don't shave your head unless your father is dead if you're coming to India, as you might be acosted for it, as Mark was. And he hates India just a little more each day. No worries, we love it.
The hostel we are staying at is phenomenal, by far the best one we've stayed at so far. Though the owner, Devendra was unwilling to bargain, we have been tremendously content with the service. The owner has been very helpful in suggesting us places to go and our new favourite restaurant,the Mahon, and the only one we have eaten at so far 4 meals in total. To be honest, we tried to find another restaurant to diversify but we just ended up at the same restaurant in another part of town. The restaurant name was written in Hindi! Pat is in heaven becuase it's vegetarian,and it's all Dal - lentil stuff.
As I (Pat) went into the bedroom last night, I noticed a little black thing moving in my bathroom. We're not sure if it was a large mouse or a small rat, but according to one theory it was a rat because of the length of its tail. Of course I informed the owner, who in turn took care of the issue quickly and wiped of the bill for one beer and gave another beer for free. Sadly, as Sasha and myself are like 12 year-olds, we struggled with our first one, so we have a nice warm beer for the trip tomorrow. It should be noted that one King Fisher beer is 1L, so we're not entirely pathetic.
Back to Jaipur - the markets/bazaars. The most organized chaos to date. Sasha nearly bumped into a camel while walking on a side street, and that's just a fraction of what else goes on in that area. We're looking forward to our next trip back to pick up some gifts for the families and friends back home.
We appologize for making India sound like shit. It isn't at all. It is beautiful, but within that beauty there is something very challenging. You have to become used to people trying to rip you off and you have to understand there is no end to animals (and their shit) on the street. There is also more poverty than you can ever shake a stick at. Within all this, there remains a highly exciting environment and more than enough beauty to counter all the negatives. Contrary to the tropes about Indians, they are very charming, fun, and willing to have a laugh at both yours and their expense, excluding matters of cricket. So, you simply have to accept the shortcomings and understand that India is still evolving from a third world status. If you can do such, with no doubt you'll see a country unlike anything that we've (and most likely yourself too)have ever experienced in our lives.
Sadly, it is our last night with Mark. We part on the morrow, as sadly he's going back to Ireland and we cannot deny we're heartbroken. How do you replace a man who took a 26 hour bus ride because he thought it would be more interesting than a 1 1/2 hour flight or has eaten everything close to shit in the entire Indian diet? We just don't know! Mark, we love you!
We love you all
Sasha and Pat
PS. Don't shave your head unless your father is dead if you're coming to India, as you might be acosted for it, as Mark was. And he hates India just a little more each day. No worries, we love it.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
The Taj and 10-year-olds
We are now in Agra (think Taj Mahal).
We got out of Kashmir with our traveling partner Mark (6ft 3", possible IRA member) nearly kicking the shit out of our houseboat owner, which resulted in possible terrorist attack upon us. We yield and left for Agra. Anywho, check out Kashmir because like Papa says "you will lav my Kashmiri country, you will lav my Dal Lake, and my sufism".
Papa is of course the heroin addict, alcoholic, Kashmiri nationalist, and lover of Allah and his prophet. We stayed at his cottage for 3 nights. Though the sites were undoubtedly breath-taking, this potentially could be the most screwed up experience of our lives. None-the-less, everyone should check out Kashmir and have one complimentary stay at Papa and his family's home, on Pat's dollar. Your junk is not included, but we're positive that Papa can recommend you to a highly regarded dealer and we're sure that one of his two deaf sons will guide you there safe and sound to the place of pick-up.
In all seriousness, Kashmir is beautiful and the vast majority of people are some of the most charismatic and kind people you'll ever come across.
We are now in Agra, and it is hotter than Mother Africa. The city is calm because it's no longer tourist season here in contrast to the other places we've been so far. SIDE NOTE: driving in India is like playing Mario Kart but instead you can win driving backwards and you'll have to watch out for the cows. Today, we got up at 5 am to witness the sunrise at the Taj Mahal. It is a truly remarkable achievement for the era and is one of the few places that belong on Pat's 7 wonders of the world, which includes the most wonderful and missed of all, Cafe Myriad.
Watching Pat in a heated and failed negotiation with a 10 year old over 30 INR (about 75 cents CDN) for a t-shirt with the Indian flag printed on was wonderful. After the failed break-down, he proceeded to the neighbouring store where he purchased it for his desired price of 75 INR ($1.50 CDN) and then informed the little 10 year old shit (Pat writing) what a fabulous deal he got. Screw You Kumar (Pat still writing).
Sasha got a wicked deck of cards (erotic statues of Kajuraho), in a respectful and no hassle fashion. Very satisfied.
Love love love
Off to Jaipur tomorrow, the Pink City awaits us!
ps. post cards coming your way soon.
We got out of Kashmir with our traveling partner Mark (6ft 3", possible IRA member) nearly kicking the shit out of our houseboat owner, which resulted in possible terrorist attack upon us. We yield and left for Agra. Anywho, check out Kashmir because like Papa says "you will lav my Kashmiri country, you will lav my Dal Lake, and my sufism".
Papa is of course the heroin addict, alcoholic, Kashmiri nationalist, and lover of Allah and his prophet. We stayed at his cottage for 3 nights. Though the sites were undoubtedly breath-taking, this potentially could be the most screwed up experience of our lives. None-the-less, everyone should check out Kashmir and have one complimentary stay at Papa and his family's home, on Pat's dollar. Your junk is not included, but we're positive that Papa can recommend you to a highly regarded dealer and we're sure that one of his two deaf sons will guide you there safe and sound to the place of pick-up.
In all seriousness, Kashmir is beautiful and the vast majority of people are some of the most charismatic and kind people you'll ever come across.
We are now in Agra, and it is hotter than Mother Africa. The city is calm because it's no longer tourist season here in contrast to the other places we've been so far. SIDE NOTE: driving in India is like playing Mario Kart but instead you can win driving backwards and you'll have to watch out for the cows. Today, we got up at 5 am to witness the sunrise at the Taj Mahal. It is a truly remarkable achievement for the era and is one of the few places that belong on Pat's 7 wonders of the world, which includes the most wonderful and missed of all, Cafe Myriad.
Watching Pat in a heated and failed negotiation with a 10 year old over 30 INR (about 75 cents CDN) for a t-shirt with the Indian flag printed on was wonderful. After the failed break-down, he proceeded to the neighbouring store where he purchased it for his desired price of 75 INR ($1.50 CDN) and then informed the little 10 year old shit (Pat writing) what a fabulous deal he got. Screw You Kumar (Pat still writing).
Sasha got a wicked deck of cards (erotic statues of Kajuraho), in a respectful and no hassle fashion. Very satisfied.
Love love love
Off to Jaipur tomorrow, the Pink City awaits us!
ps. post cards coming your way soon.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
We're sorry Kashmir
Pat's mother told him not to be rude and he is sorry. I told him so.
Kashmir is the most beautiful place one can imagine. Pat and I have both been around to some of the most beautiful cities in the world, but we've never seen anything quite like this. We're surrounded by misty mountains and the breath-taking Dal Lake. The family we are staying with are too nice, but keep on trying to make us stay in Kashmir for an additional 3 weeks... but that's cool. Just chasing the dollar. Before our flight to India, I made somewhat of a promise to Pat that I'd stop eating meat during our time in India. This hasn't worked out. The mutton lamb is to die for. Sorry Pat. It's okay Sasha, I can tell you're in meat heaven.
Kashmir is the most beautiful place one can imagine. Pat and I have both been around to some of the most beautiful cities in the world, but we've never seen anything quite like this. We're surrounded by misty mountains and the breath-taking Dal Lake. The family we are staying with are too nice, but keep on trying to make us stay in Kashmir for an additional 3 weeks... but that's cool. Just chasing the dollar. Before our flight to India, I made somewhat of a promise to Pat that I'd stop eating meat during our time in India. This hasn't worked out. The mutton lamb is to die for. Sorry Pat. It's okay Sasha, I can tell you're in meat heaven.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Live from Kashmir and other dangerous zones
The following are all lies
1) Patrick has a beautiful tan
2) Sasha doesn't look like she just bombed a Moscow subway
We're having a great time here in what the Indians call "Paradise on Earth". We can actually see the sky, unlike Delhi. Delhi was a grand time and we saw lots of penis. And of course, plenty of historical sites and such. India has been treating us well so far and we're starting to get use to the smell of piss and curry. A lovely mix indeed. Our main concern above all else though is to get a copy of Cosmogramma in the earliest movement. Clearly, I (Patrick) wrote that.
Love you all
Sasha and Pat ;)
1) Patrick has a beautiful tan
2) Sasha doesn't look like she just bombed a Moscow subway
We're having a great time here in what the Indians call "Paradise on Earth". We can actually see the sky, unlike Delhi. Delhi was a grand time and we saw lots of penis. And of course, plenty of historical sites and such. India has been treating us well so far and we're starting to get use to the smell of piss and curry. A lovely mix indeed. Our main concern above all else though is to get a copy of Cosmogramma in the earliest movement. Clearly, I (Patrick) wrote that.
Love you all
Sasha and Pat ;)
Sunday, May 2, 2010
safe and sound pt 1
We are in the Netherlands and not high! That's a first for most tourists! We tried to squeeze in a quick visit to any city outside of Amsterdam. Of course, this is not implying that we were going to do such a thing... maybe a tranny for Sasha, but nothing more! And for Pat... a tranny too. Instead, we'll have to settle for over priced airport food and sleepiness. But what the hey, we'll be in India in no time. .
Anyways, we love you all and happy birthday to Chloe
Anyways, we love you all and happy birthday to Chloe
Saturday, May 1, 2010
On leaving Christendom
Hello,
So, today we're leaving to India. Sasha is in the process of backing her bag for the fifth time, so perhaps she'll just give it one more go and she'll be done. You can never be too sure you've backed 20 pairs of underwear. I, on the other hand, am most concerned with whether or not I have a sufficient amount of Van Morrison. Speaking of music, I present to you the top five travel songs:
1) The Kinks - This time tomorrow
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ONd4qSs5B5k
2) U2 - I will follow
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2BqLlVHlWA
3) Yo La Tengo - From a Motel 6
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apTwaiAyyPI
4) The Replacements - I will dare
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73lTuBI7ve0
5) Arrested Development - People Everyday
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3w7Odo9X3uU
So, today we're leaving to India. Sasha is in the process of backing her bag for the fifth time, so perhaps she'll just give it one more go and she'll be done. You can never be too sure you've backed 20 pairs of underwear. I, on the other hand, am most concerned with whether or not I have a sufficient amount of Van Morrison. Speaking of music, I present to you the top five travel songs:
1) The Kinks - This time tomorrow
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ONd4qSs5B5k
2) U2 - I will follow
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2BqLlVHlWA
3) Yo La Tengo - From a Motel 6
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apTwaiAyyPI
4) The Replacements - I will dare
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73lTuBI7ve0
5) Arrested Development - People Everyday
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3w7Odo9X3uU
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Starting a blog for our trip
Tonight we believe might be our one year anniversary. We are not entirely sure because we disagree on the exact moment of us becoming a couple. Pat argues it's tonight whereas I firmly believe it's tomorrow, but that is beside the point. We are leaving for India this Saturday. So we are starting this blog to tell you all about our time in India and how wonderful of a time we are going to have. But to be completely honest (which this blog will most likely not be entirely, since our parents will be reading this), it's largely to avoid responding to Facebook messages to how Pat is handling the traveler's diarrhea and etc. There will be photos.
So if you're wondering about our well-being and how our pasty-skinned is upholding in 45 degrees, then please, keep in touch with this blog.
So if you're wondering about our well-being and how our pasty-skinned is upholding in 45 degrees, then please, keep in touch with this blog.
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