Utter defeat

By this time our curiosity for the absurd was superbly satisfied. We came into this trip wanting an adventure, and I think we got more than we were expecting. Everyday we had someone in our face trying to sell us something/rip us off, take us on crazy drunken rides, show us burning bodies, take us to holy places... and most of all, we got something that you would never see in the culture we live in. At the airport, we were physically and mentally exhausted. But, looking back on India, it was hands down the gnarliest trip I've been on.

~~~~~~post script~~~~~~

I came home with some bruises and they actually increased as I got home... my heal started hurting so much that I almost couldn't walk on it. When i unpacked my bags, it had the smell of India encrusted on my belongings. Most unfortunate, the Mcdonald's plate that Hafer gave me shattered from the impact of jumping off a train. I'm believing that it saved my head from getting smashed... thanks Hafer!

About two days after I got back I wasn't feeling well and ended up going to the doctor (i think Shannon mentioned that he was also sick)... what now? malaria? septosis? A blood test was done but i never went back for the results and they never contacted me so I guess that means its not anything serious.

Other than fevers and scars... I have some kick ass stories. And this blog is getting finished almost a year later haha.

-Response
That about sums it up. As mentioned, I also got sick a couple days after I got back, and I have one or two rashes that I should have probably gotten looked at. During the trip, Hahn and I both swore we would never come back to this part of the world. After about a month, we seriously talked about going back, and how much we missed the chaos. It was some of the most difficult backpacking I've done, but absolutely worth it. India is insane. I recommend it to all looking backpacking adventure. Next up will hopefully be Cambodia, Vietnam, and Thailand. Home of Sagat and his tiger uppercuts.

Airport Doctor

Still feeling that giant gash in my back and remembering the pile of cow shit that was about a foot away from where I landed. Who knew what sorts of flesh eating bacteria lived in India. It didn't help that Shannon got about 4 different shots before he came to India. Whereas, my doctor in Japan almost laughed when I asked about malarial medicine. Maybe Americans are just xenophobic to everything or is the rest of the world too relaxed. Anyway, the thought of a tetanus shot sounded life saving.

We walked in the clean and spotless infirmary... something we werent really used to in India. I told them I had a few cuts on my back that I would like to get taken care of. Showed him my back, and he asked what happened... We jumped off a train... I think he basically said something along the lines as 'you must be retarded.' Yea...

Anyway, two nurses happily inflicted pain on me with their alcohol and iodine rinses. After I got re-bandaged, I was on the receiving end of a tetanus. Since that shot makes your arm sore she massaged my arm for a bit and then said some broken English. "Your arm massage." Well, i thought this was some pretty good treatment, and just as i was about to get relaxed she stopped and told me to do it myself. So, I sat there like tool massaging my arm.
All the while, Shannon is standing off to the side taking pictures and throwing sly comments my way.

Time to go, i was wondering what the damage would be. I only had a few Rbps left on me. Luckily, India is nothing like the overpriced US of A. I think the total came to about 5 dollars. Joke was on Shannon who spent like $400 getting all of his shots and medicine. Goes to show you should wait until you are injured (in a 3rd world country) to seek medical attention. A prescription in hand we walked around to pharmacy and get some antibiotics.

We still had a few hours until we were permitted to enter the actual airport. I still dont understand that. We have our flight papers/tickets and they wouldn't let us into the airport until about 2 hours before our departure time. With nothing better to do, we decided to kill some time by eating icecream, watching Super Jail, and taking naps.

Tough Indian Love

As we get to the train station, Hahn and I sit on the steps outside to take a hard assessment of his back. By the time we get our packs off, the tukkers are already starting to swarm around us, asking where we want to go. Sometimes the tukkers fought over us, other times, as in this case, there was one lead guy, usually older, cutting deals with other tukkers (possibly employees). If you think about it, it kinda makes sense. It's my turn to take these guys, but they not headed in my direction home. I'll take a cut from what they give you, and if you take them to these shops, here, here and here, tell them I sent you, the shop owners will give me a cut of what they spend tomorrow, and I'll cut you on that. One hand is constantly washing the other hand, along with every other crusty orifice of the body. Anyway, as the tukkers asked where we wanted to go, Hahn and I look over each other, mainly his back, and, for once, I agreed with the tukker who said we should go to the pharmacy. After telling Hahn to "stop being such a fairy", and "you'll be fine, you don't need stitches", we pack our selves into yet another tuk tuk and head to the nearest pharmacy on the outskirts of Delhi.
A few moments later we find ourselves under a massive overpass, with cars whizzing by 4 stories above us. A small shanty like town sprung up underneath the long concrete bridges, and just as the tukker said, we found a small pharmacy stand, selling the usual things to patch up a battle hardened backpacker. Hahn and I gather up some ointment, tape, gauze, and some water from a nearby stand. As we walk back to the tuk tuk, the tukker already called over 5 of his friends to watch this surgery. As Hahn takes off his shirt, "Oooohhhhsss" and "Aaahhhhhsss" permeate through the group, then some Hindi is spoken, and everyone laughs...except Hahn. Hahah. His back looked like a bag of mangled balloon knots. Anyway, to make a long story short, I apply the water (Hahn yells), I apply the ointment (Hahn yells), I slap on some gauze (Hahn yells), and I tape it to his back (Hahn calls me an asshole). Hahha. But his back looked 10 times better. Especially under gauze where I couldnt look at it anymore.
So we get back into the tuk tuk, hand the driver the business card for the carpet shop, and off we go. After some time, we arrive back into Delhi proper, and I start to recognize where we are. The driver doesn't exactly know where the address is, so we ask for some directions, and finally find the place. As we walk in, we flag down our salesmen, Joe Magtegna, who upon seeing us, had a wave of ambiguous apathy, probably thinking, "these jackasses again?. Anyway, we all shook hands, picked up the carpets, and Joe kicked us out, as we were blocking the next couple of foreigners he wanted to con into buying carpets. And as a side note, my carpet is still holding up rather well, and looks as if it will continue that way for quite some time. Hahn's probably got thrown out the window or burned by Hiyo, but so it goes. Women are crazy, what are you going to do?
Afterwards, we had some time to burn, and our tukker took us to "The Rich Area", as he called it, which looked newly stamped into the city. Mostly of the concrete and roads looked freshly paved, a long with the saplings still staked down with wood and wire. There were all the brand name high end stores complete with fake sunglass sellers outside on the sidewalks. We meandered for awhile, it was about mid-day, and Hahn and I needed to sit down and eat. So with the remaining cash we had left, we picked out the nicest restaurant on the strip, and headed in. The place was just posh enough for the both of us, and we decided to eat there. We were quickly ushered to the back staircase, (we had to walk through what seemed to be the higher end of Indian society to get to the back, and we got a few dirty white devil stares along the way), and up to the second floor, that overlooked the first floor. However, Hahn and I looked like we just jumped off a train, and smelled like we've been traveling for 10+ days, so they stuck us by ourselves, in the far far back corner. That was more then fine by us. We had a view of the upstairs bar, and a tv or two, and sat in silence, away from the sun and the traffic. So we took off our packs and plopped down in a big comfy leather booth. Hell, we could have been London for all we knew. Our waiter came around, we ordered some concoctions, some water, and two 'merica sized plates of food. As we finished, we noticed that the second floor was reserved for foreigners, as europeans and asians were being lead upstairs and sat around us. Racists. We ate, sat, and eventually made our way back to the street. We heard music from across the street in a park with trees and fountains, so we headed over. All the entrances to the park were secured off, so we finally walked around to a long line of guards with metal detecting wands, and tables to search bags and whatnot. I really did not have the energy to unpack everything in my bag, but then again, I forgot that I was white. And white means that I'm not Pakistani. Hahn and I were lightly pushed though the line of guards with barely a glance. I could have had a small arsenal in my pack. Nope, head on in sir.
.

As we got in, there was no real music, or at least I don't remember anything like real music. Just some speakers set up playing shit music. There were people everywhere, laying in the grass and walking around, securing the idea that Indian people are just dying to find any distraction, no matter what it is as long as it's something different then everyday poverty. I have to admit, I take easily obtainable distraction for granted in the United States. So we walked around for a bit, and parked ourselves in a spot of grass under a tree. Thankfully it looked like two Canadian or British girls were laying out on a blanket 30 feet from us. This took all the eyes off Hahn bleeding through the gauze, oozing through the back of his shirt, which was matched by the medium sized hole in my shirt on my shoulder, which was also now stained with dust and dirt everywhere. We really did look like we lived under a bridge for the past month. Anyway, we took a nap for a bit, only to open our eyes long enough to watch all the guys try and sneak pictures of the fair skinned girls with their new camera phones. That didn't last overly long however, since the girls got tired of being politely ostracized through quickly gaping stares, and ultimately packed it in for the day. As I finally fully woke up, sure as shit a group of middle school kids in their school uniforms were taking pictures of Hahn and I passed out in the grass. I stared back at them, and after a few seconds they noticed and we had ourselves a stare down. Its tough to get mad at them, and I'm sure they mean nothing by it. Anyway, I won that battle, and Hahn and I successfully wasted away the afternoon.

As we head to the airport, our tukker stops and gets gas. We are basically on the same route as when we first arrived. Seems like just yesterday we got here in this crazy city. He drops us off a mile or so from the airport, and we have to take a shuttle bus the rest of the way, for security measures. As I get on the bus, we are instructed to put our packs on the rack with the rest of the luggage. At the time I wasn't worried about it, and quite frankly, I wasn't thinking. Hahn and I got a seat in the middle, since it was pretty vacant. And just like that, a swarm of people come rushing onto the bus, the luggage rack fills up, and people just start taking luggage to their seats, and leaving bags and whatnot in the isle. Where once I had an eye on my bag, my view is now obstructed by bodies swaying to and fro at the mercy of the bus driver steering this metal beast towards the airport. The bus finally comes to a stop, and I am praying that by the time I get to the front, my pack is still there. Getting off the bus is like getting off a plane, it taking forever and everyone taking their sweet time. Im finally able to stand up, and start making my way to the door. If my pack isnt there, after all this time, at the very last stop, Im going to flip my wig and start killing for the Lord, beginning with this smelly fucker in front of me acting like a damn fool and not moving fast enough. I look down in the luggage rack. My pack is gone. I start digging through pieces of luggage. "Oh...There it is". Paranoia abated. Hahn and I get into the airport 'holding area', since we are only allowed into the airport a couple of hours before checkin.
The area isn't big, but not small, and only areas to sit with little else. We notice signs for the bathroom, and they lead us down an elevator. We pop out in a long hall, turn the corner, and but what do we see?!? An infirmary. Hahha. Perfect. Can't have Hahn flying back to Japan with a bleeding hole in his back. Ill let Hahn write about that though. Anyway, keep going, and the place opens up to a long concourse type area, just without gates. We check into the bathrooms, and head down the way. There are shops and eateries on either side, some of them in the middle of construction, we both assumed in time for Obama's visit in 2 weeks. It was nice though, clean, and white. We moseyed around for a bit, and decided it was high time for Tim to see a real doctor.

Proper Technique

I found this article on another website... we really didnt do it properly.

Mar 24, 2007

How to Jump from a Moving Train

1. Move to the end of the last car. If this is not an option, you can jump from the space between cars, or from the door if you can get it open.

2. If you have time, wait for the train to slow as it rounds a bend in the tracks. If you jump and land correctly you will probably survive even at high speeds (70 mph or more), but you increase your chances of survival if the train is moving slowly.

3. Stuff blankets, clothing, or seat cushions underneath your clothes. Wear a thick or rugged jacket if possible. Use a belt to secure some padding around your head, but make certain you can see clearly. Pad your knees, elbows, and hips.

4. Pick your landing spot before you jump. The ideal spot will be relatively soft and free of obstructions. Avoid trees, bushes, and, of course, rocks.

5. Get as low to the floor as possible, bending your knees so you can leap away from the train car.

6. Jump perpendicular to the train, leaping as far away from the train as you can. Even if you jump from the last car, leap at right angles to the direction of the train. This way, your momentum will not carry you toward the wheels and tracks.

7. Cover and protect your head with your hands and arms, and roll like a log when you land. Do not try to land on your feet. Keep your body straight and try to land so all parts of your body hit the ground at the same time—you will absorb the impact over a wider area. If you land on your feet, you will most likely break your ankles or legs. Do NOT roll head over heels as if doing a forward somersault.

"Jump! You Pussy"

Tim already at the door of the train while im rushing to get my bags together and stuff any miscellaneous thing in my pockets. Time freezes as i watch the platform go by in slow motion... a little voice in my head yells 'damn you India'. I swear to god the ghost of Mola Rom was watching over us.

I rendezvous with Shannon at the doorway and we have a short conversation about what the hell we are gonna do... i dont really remember it because my synapses are all signaling at once. When is the next station? Will we miss our plane? Can we jump? How fast are we going? This questions slowly give way to invulnerability... We just left the station... we're not going that fast. If we roll, we'll be fine. Homeless people jump trains all the time; how hard can it be. Eventually, one of us suggests what the other has been thinking since we first rode the train...

Shannon: Hahn, hurry the fuck up!
Me: that was Delhi...
Shannon: Should we jump?
Me: I guess, who knows where the next station is.
Shannon: .... (drops bag)
We both give a bewildered look as his bag violently hits the grounds and is briskly swept away in the distance.
Silence...
Me: Jump, YOU PUSSY!
Shannon: Knowing he can't say no to that, he plunges onto the stones.
It was kinda one of those situations where you prod at something to see if someone would really do it... then when they do it, you are like holy shit... especially knowing you're up next.
Watching Shannon hop off the train was surreal... Both of his hands where on the doorway as he was leaning out waiting to jump. It looked like he just hopped a couple inches away from the train and crumbled crumbled he hit the ground... immediately, i was concentrating on when to jump. While metal bars, boxes, and other rusted contraptions were flying i thought i could feel the train getting faster... fuck, i have to jump soon. On top of that, if i dont jump, ill be stuck in India. Yikes.

Ahh, an opening with no rusty metal, just rocks! In midair i realize that the camera I borrowed is in my pocket... to avoid smashing the camera I twist in midair. This was possibly the worst decision you could make as I was in no position to roll and absorb the impact. I landed in a squatting position with my back facing the way we were going... i leaned forward to try and counterbalance my momentum so I wouldnt smash my head open... oh man, no way... I dont actually remember hitting the ground but somehow i have a memory of seeing my feet in the air.

My glasses were gone, my back was on fire, and i was frozen in pain... i literally couldnt move. I rolled over to my side and the first recognizance memory is pile of cow shit basking in the noon sun about a foot away from where I landed. Seriously India. I lightly rubbed over my head with my one hand in hopes a piece of my skull isn't missing. No blood. I think my backpack saved me from splattering my brains on the tracks. I just laid on the rocks while holding my breath from time to time to deal with the pain. I saw Shannon in the distance holding his elbow and trying to walk it off. Like a real man... jump out of a train, walk it off. Glancing in the other direction, a group of village kids are standing next to the tracks staring at us in awe. The white men fell from the sky. Surely, that story will be passed on for generations.

They made they way over to my prone body. I got my bag off and sat up and stared back at the kids as to say 'what the hell did i just do?' They whispered some Hindi to themselves. I said 'my glasses'. I dont know why this was the first thing i said... but im literally blind without them. By this time the kids were repeating glasses like it was some taboo. I made glasses with my hands and put them on my face. Thats universally known. Of course, the next word i hear them say is goggles. Goggles. Me, being an english teacher, wondered why goggles are better known than glasses. Anyway, a kid found the glasses about 20 feet away from where i landed. Still in one piece.

Tim had moseyed on down holding his elbow and making some grunting noises. I still couldn't move well. I asked him to check my back... I lifted up my shirt and the expression on his face told it all. He said i had two cuts that looked like they just got punched into my skin at the end. Nightmares of rusty metal pieces. We thanked the kids for helping us. Hobbling back to the station, we start laughing like hyenas. I think this was some kind of natural defense mechanism because we couldn't grasp the fact that we almost died in India.

RESPONSE:
Yep. That's basically how that happened. Im standing there at the door, looking down the corridor, yelling for Hahn to get a move on as the train starts chugging along, accelerating every couple of moments. Nothing. No Hahn. Just a vacant walkway, with some random people staring at me from their seats. I look back out of the train. Yeah. All I see is rusted metal structures for the train and melon sized rocks pass me by (you can see the rocks next to the tracks we jumped out onto in the background of the picture above showing my elbow). Finally, after Hahn kisses those babies and announces his running for mayor of Delhi (to much little fanfare...white devils usually don't do well in general elections), he comes rushing down the isle. As I stand there, on the last step, I yell back to Hahn, "Are we jumping off this thing...?" Hahn looks at me and gives me his classic shoulder shrug. We didn't know when the next station was, and we would both be damned to miss our flight. At that precise moment, the conductor drops the hammer and we could feel the train really start going. It wasn't going full bore quite yet, but we didn't have any more time to debate. All I hear behind me from Hahn is "Jump you fucking pussy!!!" Obviously I couldn't let Hahn get the better of my ego, or let any decently thought out decision to stand in my way of getting to the Delhi airport.

So I reached my hand out of the door, and dropped my bag off the train. And sure as shit, it was gone in a heart beat. Hmmmmm... Well, I was pretty much committed at that point, and I poked my head out, making sure nothing large and dangerous was coming, and out I went. I remember looking down, thinking to myself, "I got this, I got this!", as my feet got closer to the ground. And that was it. I stood up, amidst a pile of jagged rock and dust, slumping over holding my elbow and my shoulder, which took the brunt of the impact apparently (landing with my back to the train). I look up, and all I see is the train going around a slight bend, with Hahn's head poking out, way in the distance. I really wasn't sure if he was going to jump or not, as after seeing my destruction, to his credit, it must have been a tough decision. But after a couple of seconds, I see him leap out, turning in the air, so his right shoulder is facing the train. I see him initially hit the earth, but a bunch of rock dust instantly clouds up, and all I see is his feet shoot into the air, making it almost impossible for him not to crack his head in half. I get a bad feeling in my stomach that I'm going to be seeing a lot of blood shortly.

So I hobble my way up the tracks to him, and as I get there, the train finally gets by us. Hahn is there, moving on all fours, shouting, "AAhhhhh Fuck!!...Where are my fucking glasses....My fucking back is on fire!!!...AAhhhh fuck!!!..." Hahn, the man who Death himself can't kill, saved braining his ass by keeping his backpack on. When he hit the ground, apparently the momentum jolted his backpack upward and around his head, of course creating a perfect helmet. Hence why his back was exposed, and the rocks gouging the hell out of it. Anyway, all his yelling caused a commotion, and the poor destitute village on the other side of the tracks came a calling. Must have been something like 20-30 men and boys searching for the white devil's seeing device. We thanked them for their search and their effort, as they did find them, and promptly returned them to Hahn. We grabbed his pack, said goodbye to the diligent yet confused peoples, and headed to the train stop. We walked about 50 feet and broke into laughter that would last about a month.

Everything was going so well...

Somehow we ended up having an extra day in this trip that we didn't plan for... we spent that extra day in Jaipur... Tooling around and getting sudden onsets of diarrhea. Good thing Shannon brought prescription shit stopping pills or else this trip would have required a lot more handkerchiefs.

The next morning we awoke to riding yet another train back to Delhi. This train was the sleeper deal again that had bunks. Naturally, we had no way of understanding what time we would reach Delhi (or when we would even reach the station). Yet, they was aura of relaxation knowing that we would be free of scammers, diarrhea, grabby tuk-tuk drivers, and smog. We asked the guy in the bunk to alert us when we reached Delhi... of course he would do that for us, right?

Lazily laying around... we check the time is its an hour or two past the scheduled time. Still not there i guess... i drift off back to sleep and Tim goes to take some pics from the train...

What was i dreaming of? I can't recollect it...I just remember being violently shaken awake and Shannon yelling that this was our stop...

our train was already moving away from the station.

Damn you India!

Mr. Hahn Meets Mr. Hankey

There I am, its the first day in Jaipur, and I'm sitting on the shitter in the dank and dark bathroom, staring at the shower (a spicket in the wall with a hole in the floor), and the small water bugs and cock roaches sharing a small recess of water. I can't quite place the smell, but its nothing good. Hahn is outside, settling his pack, as we've just gotten to our room 10 minutes or so before. I look around. Like boxing out in the NBA, the toilet paper is non-existent.
Usually, as far as this trip has gone, there was at least a fifth of a roll hiding somewhere in the bathrooms. I've got nothing except a hankey in my back pocket. So instead of wiping my ass with my hand, I wipe it with a piece of cloth that was supposed to be used to wipe my nose. I do my business, and throw the hankey in the corner of the bathroom, so when I shower, it'll soak for a bit and I can wash it. I exit the bathroom, and get my camera together to go out. As Hahn enters the bathroom, I hear "What is that on the floor?" "Oh, that's my hankey." "Did you wipe your ass with that?" "Yeah." "Ohhh maaannn...that's disgusting." Hahn walks back out of the bathroom. "Dude, you're disgusting!" Hahn is now dying laughing. "Why am I disgusting?...I had to wipe my ass!...What was I supposed to wipe my ass with?" "I don't know, but not that!...That's disgusting, you're ridiculous!" "Whatever man. I don't know what I was supposed to do. Wiping my ass with my hand isn't exactly my optimal choice." "Ahahahha...Hahahah...you're disgusting! I can't believe you did that." "You've never wiped your ass with anything other then toilet paper?" "Oh man, no...never." "Never?" "No, never." ...Somewhere along the line the conversation shifted a bit... "So Hahn, you've never shit yourself?" "No, never!" "Bullshit!" "No, I've never shit myself in my adult life." "That's crap son. I don't believe that for a fucking second. I shit myself once every 2-3 months, and you're telling me you've never shit yourself as an adult?" "That's right. I've never shit myself as an adult."
That conversation went on for a good 20 minutes as we got ready to leave, and eventually run into Lucky. As we wake up the next day, we find mosquito bites all over us, as apparently there were about 15 of them hiding in the curtains waiting for us to fall asleep. So we get our gear on, and scout out a small eatery we found on the map, finding out there arent a ton of places serving breakfast. We find the eatery, 2 back alleys behind a back alley. Oddly enough, its not a bad spot, its just empty. So Hahn and I have the run of the restaurant, and order a shit ton of food while watching the only tv in the place showing single scenes from popular american movies. That was the whole show. It showed a scene, then commercials, then another scene from a different movie. The waiter, who took our order, disappeared upstairs for about 30 minutes while we sat there straight chilling by ourselves. The food eventually made it down the stairs, with our server and I believe the cook, a kid our age with one good eye. I'm not sure they new quite how to serve us, as they seemed very hesitant to do anything with the food. Perhaps they just wanted to get everything perfect. Anyway, the food was great, we got an assortment of stuff, from spicy and hot, to cold and bland. We took our time and relaxed, laughing about Lucky, and not being left for dead by some two-bit gem hustler in fine threads and a fancy car. After eating, we decided to walk to the bizarre we went to last night, as we noticed a throng of stores we passed on the way riding in the tuk tuk. Hahn was looking for some cheap dress shirts for work, and I wanted to see how cheap Puma gear was, since that shit is made somewhere in India. So we walk, and we walk, and we walk some more. Hahn goes in some places...I go in some places. We saw a shit ton of Jaipur yesterday, so there's really zero hurry. We mosey about a mile from our hotel, when just like that, in a blink, right there on the sidewalk...I lose Hahn. He was walking right next to me, and I look over...and he's gone. I stop, and turn around. After a small crowd of people go around me, I see him, 15 feet behind me, standing still. He has a strange look on his face, like he can't figure out a math problem he once knew the answer to. I walk back to him. "You alright?" "Yeeeaaahhh." We start walking forward again, and Hahn takes 3 steps. "Nope.......I shit myself." "What?!...AAAHHHHahahaha." "I need to find somewhere like right now." Hahn shuffles his feet ever so gingerly as he walks, most likely squeezing his butt cheeks together like his soon to be wet legs depended on it. There are zero restaurants where we are, all commercial storefronts, so we duck down a side street. Off to the side, there are a bunch of rundown and abandoned tuk tuks, along with some scooters. There seems to be a small path way behind all of them, to an extremely small alleyway filled with weeds and random debris. "Hey, checkout back there...just climb over that shit and dump out in that little alley." "Alright....Hey...Ummm...You wouldn't happen to have that hankey would you?" "Are you serious?...How fucking ironic is this!!" I throw him the hankey in my back pocket (thanks to allergies I usually pack 3 for the trips like this). 15 minutes later, Hahn re-emerges from the alley. "What happened to my hankey?" "Yeah, you didn't want that back." "Well now what?" "We need to go back to the hotel, I need to take a shower...it was everywhere." "AAhahha hahah.....awesome"...
So we walk a mile back to our hotel, and I didn't stop laughing the entire time....well, until we got about an eighth of the way to the place, where I had to run, since I to, now have to shit. As I sprint up the steps to the second floor, I almost shit myself. As I fumble with the keys to open the door, I almost shit myself. I leap and bound to the toilet, and breakfast shoots out of me. And since Hahn used my toilet paper I had stored in my back pocket, I just took off my shoes, took off my pants, stripped down, and walked 3 steps into the shower, and took a cold one and thoroughly cleaned myself...Hahn would have to wait.

Afterwards we ate lunch at a pizza hut just to see what it was like...and it was expensive. We talked with the only employee who spoke english, had a lovely chat with that kid, and continued on the path where we left off. We make our way back to where we were, and find the Puma store. Unbelievable expensive. Bullshit. Go into a couple of thread stores, and finally end up at the market. At some point it turns dark, and we wonder around some more. Hahn gets into a shirt store, and, well, he can tell you how well the nice cheap dress shirts worked out....Hahn drops a small rupee fortune on dress shirts...Hahah, India strikes again! We dick about the rest of the night, as the city bizarre readies itself for their festival of lights, starting the next week.

Jewel Scam

Lucky was waiting at the gate of the hotel. Gives us a what the hell happened to you guys and the conversation goes from there. Definitely something we both didnt want to deal with in our tired state. We say to we'll pay him but he doesnt want to let go that easy. Again bargaining with us, he says we should just go get some beers and forget about what happened. I guess the temptation of alcohol was enough to convince us of anything. We go to this dive bar on the corner of some street. A strange thing to see considering New Delhi, the capital of India, was on lock down after dark.

The catch comes after he tells us we had to come because he promised to introduce us to someone... well, not like we couldn't something like this coming. Shannon, didn't read the Lonely Planet article on what made Jaipur so notorious, gem scams. This guy, maybe mid-30's to early-40's tells us has a proposition for us. Like, any good scam artist he waits until we are a few beers in... but little does he know, we have Tim Shannon, a Houdini of beer. That doesnt even make sense. This guy says he is a business man, just needs some help getting around international laws, tariffs, whatever. Cut to the quick, he wants us to work his diamond showcase in NYC the following month. I shoot back some remarks to call his bullshit while Tim also makes some nice comments. This guy isn't going down so easily and suggests we go over the particulars on some nearby roof while drinking some more beer. Of course because it has a nice view. Yea, i think i saw this plot in a movie once... the unsuspecting tourists get ruffied, taken up to the roof, robbed, and thrown off the roof... little did they know im wearing the Japanese equivalent of Umbros... that means no pockets, no money. suckers.

Shannon, decides to go along with this... here, my head almost explodes. Im getting buzzed and i dont feel like drinking on a roof with some shady characters who are looking to scam us. I figure if there is two of us there, they might get extra tired tossing two bodies off a roof. We get in this guys dust covered car and we begin our descent into...

Sitting in the back, sipping some beers, we hear this guys plight. He talks about trust, drops some proverbs, and questions my trust because im giving him this cold stare. We pass through a neighborhood with bigger looking houses but they had the same WWIII looking surroundings. Then we passed through some shady ass slum. Hmm, things keep getting shittier. Where is this roof he was talking about? There weren't any tall buildings around. I guess this is were we start whispering to each other and talk about how weird this is getting. Maybe at that time, Shannon finally agreed that this situation was getting pretty outlandish.

Finally, the gem scammer says that he doesnt get a good vibe from me and that im not very trusting. Naturally, because im not trusting him entrusting us with diamonds he wants to call the deal off... the dustmobile makes it's way back to the bar and we part ways and Lucky takes us back towards our hotel.

There, Lucky, still be an ass like he didn't just try to scam us asks us for the ride payment. He gets burned... but i still think India wins that day.

What a long day

Response:
Courtesy of Lonely Planet - Jaipur:
WARNING - GEM SCAMS
A disturbingly large number of travellers countinue to get bedazzled by gem deals. These too-good-to-be-true con tricks might involve buying gems for resale at a supposedly huge profit, or getting paid by wealthy dealers to cart gems then suddenly coming up against "custom problems" that mean you have to shell out huge amounts, or some other cunning ploy. The con artists are invariably charming, often taking travellers to their homes and insisting on paying for meals. Mistaking a smooth operator for someone showing genuine Indian hospitality, the unsuspecting traveller begins to trust his or ger new-found friend. The proposed moneymaking scheme a few days laters seems too good to be true - and it is. If you by gems for resale, they are usually worth a fraction fo the price paid (or, if you agreed to have them sent, they never arrive, even if you see them posted in front of you). Hard-luck stories about an inability to obtain an export licence or having to pay huge taxes are not your problem. Testimonials from other happy gem-dealing punters are easy to fake. Don't let the promise of easy money cloud your judgment.

After convincing Hahn and I to just have a few drinks (if we knew the bar was going to be that far away and Lucky's friend was some 35-45 year old dude, we would have just called it a night), we get back into Lucky's whip and head to the bar, and as Hahn already said, we wound up cruising around in the back of a 5 series BMW in ghetto Jaipur. As the gem scammer drove, and spoke with us about how successful his jewelry store was in new york city, Hahn went from shifty to down right pissed in about 2 miles of dark and dusty Jaipur road. So in front of me is gem scammer, and to my right is Hahn, up and out of his seat, yelling at the gem scammer about "this is bullshit!" and "yeah, people offered us gems today, and this is a scam too!". And then there is me, sitting back laughing, wondering when the gem scammer is going to look over to Lucky, and give him the nod to get the handgun from the glove compartment. So now the gem scammer is getting pissed, saying "I trust you Tim, but not the other Tim, I'm just going to take you guys back to the bar" (but keeps driving around), and Hahn, getting super mad at this guy, and ready to jump into the front seat and start swinging for the moon. Classic India. We probably should have ended up with a hole in our chests and in a ditch till dawn.

Anyway, it was all worth it for the line of the trip. As we get back to the bar, we immediately get out of the car, and into the tuk tuk. The car felt oddly claustrophobic compared to riding around in a wide open tuk tuk since we arrived. Lucky exchanged some words with that slick fuck trying to sell us gems (as if we were really going to buy gems?...what an idiot, Hahn and I both look like a bunch of homeless bum hippies and he thinks we are going to drop thousands of dollars on rocks?...what the fuck do we care about gems...oooooohhhhh gems, soooo purty, lets buy lots and sell them back in 'Merica...whatever...what an asshole), and finally got into his tuk tuk and drives us back right outside our hotel, on the main road. Hahn immediately, and I mean immediately, gets out of the tuk tuk, and starts walking towards our hotel...here is the conversation from that point:

Lucky: So what are you doing?
Me: Going with him. (I point to Hahn)
Lucky: You're not going to hang out?
Me: No Lucky, I'm not going to hang out (I'm trying to slide out of the tuk tuk)
Lucky: You want some chai?
Me: No Lucky, I don't want any chai.

I get out of the tuk tuk, and walk to Hahn who's waiting for me 20 feet away. We turn our back and get three steps. Lucky gets out of his tuk tuk, with a bunch of other tukkers floating about sipping chai.

Lucky: Hey! Hey! You guys owe me for the entire day!

Hahn turns around as I watch his brain internally explode.

Hahn: Fuck you Lucky! We're not paying you shit!
Lucky: Why not! You guys owe me money!
Hahn: We're not fucking paying you!
Lucky: Why not!
Hahn (Pointing to his head while walking backwards): Think about it Lucky!! Fucking...Think...About it!!!

We turn our backs for the second time, as we start to turn the corner to the alley of our hotel, we hear Lucky for the last time:
I WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP YOU GUYS OUT!!!

Hahahah...help us out? Help us out!! Jesus christ. "Helping You Out"...It should be India's official slogan.

A Day in Jaipur

We woke up balls early after drinking a massive amount of chai at the hotel restaurant the night before... god, I miss chai... We had a 6 am train or something, and it left close to the actual departure time. An on time train was welcomed since we didn't have bunks like the other trains. We sat in a group of maybe 8 seats; 4 on each side with a chair in the middle. Sitting across from us were two German guys around our age. They had been in India for about a month (during their 3 month European vacation...) and we were wondering if they still had both of their kidneys. We had some good conversations with them for parts of the train ride.

As we arrived at Jaipur we concretely decided against any helper monkeys - tuk tuks. And did we decide against them. I think we left the station with a group of people who just kept following us while constantly pushing us to give into their demands. Did we use "cielo" here? I think this is where Shannon dropped the "cielo" bomb to the one Indian dude who got pissed... gave an evil eye, threw his hands up in the air with a "No! You cielo!" hahaha. Awesome.

We walked, got lost, met up with the Germans who were also lost, parted ways near our street, got lost again, walked and walked, argued, ate lunch, still being lost, gave up and got a new hotel. The hotel was a recommendation by a young guy on a motorcycle named, Lucky. Keep this name in mind, because this is a trip of ironies. After checking into the hotel we went out to search the town... specifically, I wanted to go to the place that had $2 tailored shirts. I finally found this damn place and then got the cold "your not Indian" shoulder... Oh, yea? it will take 2 weeks to cut a shirt... meanwhile your tailoring one for the guy who just walked in the door? bastards.

I found Tim outside getting some cigarettes. Our next tuker, Lucky, joins the story. He was trying to get hired for a while and we finally gave in when we struck a pretty good deal for the Amber Fort. The fort was about a 30 min ride through the town and the the hilly outskirts. Lucky, told us about his family life and how he is married, had an affair, got the other girl pregnant, abortion... just your everyday Joe. He also likes to smoke weed. A likeable guy.

We passed some elephants and camels along the way and then arrived at this massive fort up on a hill. Extremely huge. There were two forts actually... the older, higher than the newer one. Either another King wanted to show he could build another giant fort or he got sick of having to go so far up the mountain to get to the other one. We didn't feel like paying to see half of the fort so we tried to sneak by to no avail. Watch out for the grimy looking Americans. Definitely so, i didnt wash my pants the whole trip and only brought one pair. After being turned away by 3 different guards we walked up to the older fort. We took an out of the way path that followed the wall and after about 20 min of hiking it, we ended up at another... wall. Great path. We ended up getting an uninterrupted view of the lower fort which made up for the sudden stop in our hike.

Lucky, was down at the parking lot gambling in his down time. I guess he lost cuz he had to buy everyone there a small shot of chai. On the way back to town, his tuk-tuk broke down, and we changed automobiles. Next stop was downtown Jaipur.

Things start get fuzzy here; he wants us to have some beers with him and meet him back at the gate at 7... alright we say, but we might be a little late. This is our trip by the way and we are going to go on our own schedules. Needless to say, we meet some college kids, buy some bangles, roam the streets, and miss our 7 o'clock deadline. Lucky is nowhere to be found so we haggle some other tucker to drive us back to the hotel. Lucky had yet to paid so we thought it was weird that he wasn't there... and he basically refused our payment in the hopes that he would get some beers or something else...

Back at the hotel...
We get a call to our room...
the return of Lucky!

Response:
Right, Lucky, aptly named, was a skinny wank with teeth that looked like they were going to fall out of his head any second...he was cool at first, but as Hahn said, India always wins...we had a full day up until this point, and as we wondered the through the market section, which was extremely packed with people, and very dark and maze like (it was a god damn labyrinth sans the minotaur), we instantly knew we weren't going to meet Lucky on time, and just hoped he'd stick around for a bit past 7 (really, what else would he have to do?....no school, his only job all day was to tool us around, and hang out and get paid?)...Anyway, along our walkings we met up with some college bound guys who wanted to know all about what they would get paid in America with their tech degrees. They almost shit their pants when they realized we weren't kidding, you could literally see the dollar signs in eyes. So we meandered with them, went down some real strange alleys, including one with about 100 motorcycles lined up every which direction (a person could make a killing as a mechanic down there) and met up with another kid who sold us on a "the best bangle shop in all of Jaipur". And he might have been right. Those were some pretty cool bangles. Any way, after finding our way out, we finally made it back to where we first entered, and to no surprise, the Luckster was nowhere to be found. So we haggled the hell out of 5 tukkers, all pitting them against each other, which cracked them up (they are all just standing there waiting with nothing to do, and getting a ride this late at night is just a bonus...I'm assuming all the old guys anyway would rather stand outside and shoot the shit rather then go home to the wife and 13 kids). So some dude takes us home, and we get dropped off, and head inside. And sure as shit, Lucky tracks us down, and gets the head of the hotel to call us up and has us come down to pay Lucky. Haha...but the Lucky doesn't want money.

The Taj Mahal

This was definitely a step up from the last train trip... it was only 6 hours late this time. We were debating whether we needed a tuker, however we only had a short stay so we grabbed one. Luckily, this guy took us to a cheap hotel. There was an open court in the middle where we would eventually eat dinner. After deciding our course of action for the day, we set off for the Taj Mahal. But first, lunch. We had a young tuker who took us to an oasis in the desert of Agra. Probably the first kept grass ive seen in an Indian city... and no trash!

We even met the tuker's father there, a man who spoke fluent french. One thing i will give credit to Indians for is language. We ran into a lot of people who spoke English very well. Plus, i hear they are doing algebraic math in kindergarten....

After a nice lunch, with chai of course, we made our way to the Taj Mahal. It was too busy for our driver to pull-up near the gate so he parked in some back alley and we had to walk the rest of the way. He warned us of the typical tourist traps that awaited us on the way to the gate. Like we were odysseus making our way past Indian sirens, people selling trinkets, beggars, and pushy cabbies grabbing our arms... When we actually made to the gate we had to buy a ticket, but due to all the shit everywhere we didn't know if this is where we buy a ticket. We double checked the sign that was painted by an 8 year old. Our deciding factor were the guys with guns who pointed towards the stand.

At least India is blatantly racialist by charging a price that is about 100x higher for foreigners (whities). 750 Rps to 25 Rps... this was way over my 10 budget for my whole India trip.

We make our way through another gate and we are greeted by a massive marble structure shining in the distance. We stood there for a few minutes to congeal with this eye candy. We made a way by a filming crew, crazy foreigners, and thousands of Japanese people with nikons strapped to their neck taking pictures... The pathway towards the Taj is deceivingly long. The size of the Taj is like a mirage that you think your getting closer to, but its always a little further.

Halfway, we came along some fountains and snapped some pics. Some Indian gardeners, trimming grass with their sheers, petitioned us to join them in their endeavor. Very well.
Then we noticed this Japanese babe who was wearing a revealing white dress being hounded by tons of Indian men... much to her parents dismay. ha, I think she was constantly getting harassed to let people take a picture with her.

Nearly at the Taj, we had to take our shoes off and place them in a little plastic bag they provided us with. We walked up a few steps to be on the square which housed the Taj Mahal. Freaking sweet... Marble inlaid with semiprecious jewels. Inside were the tombs of the creator and his wife, who he made it for. Pictures weren't allowed but i tried to get a few. They didn't really turn out well because of the lighting. We exited the back were Indians, Muslims, and scores of other nerfherders were lounging around. Somehow, they showed some restraint and didn't piss on the Taj. We couldn't say the same for the band of monkeys that lived off to the side.

I think they were having a monkey war... they would chase each other up the side of the bu idling, around the side, and then up a tree to continue this process again. Tim decided to get brave and actually poke a giant monkey with equally giant nuts. Unexpectedly, he didn't get his face mauled off. We finished off the Taj by walking around taking some other pictures. And, shiiit, done dropped my camera on the sidewalk... the camera I was borrowing from my coworker. Tim just laughs as I crap myself and pray it still works. Luckily, only a few superficial scratches adorn it like a badge of honor that silently says 'I've been to India.'









Response: The train ride was pretty nice, but after the last couple ones, the train would have had to literally derail to get any worse. As we arrive in Agra, I basically bare knuckle box Hahn right outside the train station to not get a tuker, as we start walking in the direction of the hostel/hotel we want to stay at. Sure as shit though, we get followed by a pack of ravenous drivers, all wanting to drive us. We don't even get a block from the train station and Hahn caves in, and before I can take my pack off to beat him with it, he's in the taxi. Wanker. So our tuker takes us into town, and we get into a decent resting place whose highlight is a cable tv (with channels play music videos and commercials all day and night) and a nice courtyard sitting area that also serves food. We would eat there later, and it was quite pleasant. Anyway, we head to the Taj, and its chaos as usual. There is much more to explain that Tim already hasn't other then then fact that for locals it was basically free, for everyone else it was something like 75 dollars...what a fucking rip off...Im not even sure why I keep writing that about India. So we buy our ticket, head past all the guards with soviet era machine guns, and watch all the tourists scurry about the grounds. The Taj Mahal was impressive by any means, although you did not really get to get to far inside. Most of it was roped off, or the doors just locked. Hahn and I got our picture taken with a ton of locals, and headed off to the right to check out some other buildings...and then came the monkeys. Those fearless bastards. I look up, and here comes this giant male monkey walking down the top of the wall, heading right for me. This thing has three options. Turn around, and head back wherever it came from. Jump off the wall (its a 30 foot drop...probably not the best option).



Or walk by me....So it just keeps on walking right for me, like I didn't exist. So as he passes me, less then a foot away, I slap it on the ass. Nothing. Didn't flinch. It walks another 20 feet on the wall, and then bungees into a tree, and then joins the monkey war down on the ground on the other side. More important things to do I guess. So yeah, Hahn and I get some more pictures taken with locals who've never seen white boys before, and I take some pictures of graffiti strewn throughout the buildings.




Afterwards we head to a couple other places, a small cleared out cropping across the river from the Taj, and a handful of other monuments, complete with kids jumping off a wall into a river (only to then ask for money...of course...because they jumped into the river). As the day turned to night, we decided to pretty much take the night off, as we had early tickets to Jaipur. We would need the rest.