Airport Security Flaws

In Milano Italy: I was stopped at a security checkpoint because of a letter opener (given to me as a gift) that was seen in my bag via x-ray. Follwing is the conversation that happened:
Me: I know what you want...........(I took out the letter opener from the bag).
Security Agent: Sir, this is a forbidden item.
Me: I know. I got it as a gift, isn't it nice? I had nowhere else to put it.
Security Agent: Sir, this is a forbidden item. You will need to dispose of it.
Me: Um, OK.
Security Agent: Sir, where are you going?
Me: America.
Security Agent: Where?
Me: JFK
Security Agent: OK, you can keep it and you may go now.
Me: Um, thanks.

This situation really happened and it is ridiculous. What?! How does one explain this? What I had could clearly be used to seriously injure someone, just as much as a knife. Yet, because I was going the the US it was OK? That is insane. Thoughts anyone?

I arrived at customs at JFK Airport in New York at 2:30pm. While Mr. Customs Officer was looking over my declaration and passport I scanned the desk of the customs officer. He had a list of about 30 Muslim names. I love Racial Profiling.

I am thinking of continuing with my blog while back in the US of A. It will be about medical school and my life. Any thoughts? Or...........?

Vodka Monks Drunks Australians Indians

One thing that is worse than overnight bus-rides in India is an RAC (Reservation After Cancellation) ticket on the overnight train. When I reserved a ticket for my trip from Agra to Varanasi, this was the only ticket available, so I took it. The ticket was in an air-conditioned car, which is probably the nicest way to travel, so I wasn’t concerned at all. Upon arrival onto the train, I went to my seat only to find a man already occupying it. I tried to inform him that I had the seat while he tried to inform me that he had the seat. It didn’t look like he planned on getting up from the seat. So, I went to look for someone to help me out. Finally, I found two guys who said they’d help me. We went back to my seat and the three men started mumbling in Hindi. As it turned out, the three men were all friends. For the next five minutes, it appeared that the two guys I found made fun of the guy who was in my seat. Why you ask? Because since the man and I had the same seat number, we had to share a bed; on an overnight train. The bed was half the size of a single bed. We slept head to foot and I slept horribly. The guys feet were poking and prodding me the whole night. Not Cool. I arrived in Varanasi after 13 hours on a train and about 2 hours of sleep.

After arriving to Varanasi I needed to sleep so I took a nap once I arrived at the Ganga Yogi Lodge. After a nap I went downstairs to find out if it was possible to buy some soap and shampoo nearby. The conversation went like this:
“Excuse me, but, do you know where I could buy some shampoo or soap?”
“Yes. Do you want some Hashish or Opium?”
“Um. What?”
“Hashish or Opium.”
“Oh! Uhh, no, it’s ok. I think I just need to get some shampoo and soap.”
“OK”

I was offered Hashish or Opium at least 100 times over the next two days. After an evening of washing and sleeping, I went to eat at a restaurant called Haifa and then checked out some of the Ghats (stairs that people walk down into the Ganga (Ganges)) with a friend whom I met who was from France but who didn’t speak English but did speak Spanish (which I spoke with him). I made it an early night and hit the sack early because I was getting up at 4:45am the next morning to be on the Ganga (on a boat) for sunrise. Both the sights of the Ganga and the stomachache that I began to have while on the boat were breathtaking. The scene at the Ganga is very powerful. There are thousands of devotees chanting, bathing, singing, socializing, cremating, shaving heads, shitting, drinking, eating, ritualizing, and more. There were colors, smells, sounds, and for those who put the Ganga water in their mouths…flavors (and probably stomach aches later in the day because the Ganges is the most polluted river in the world. This scense happens every day. It is the most holy place on earth for Hindus. It’s like being in Mecca or in Jerusalem. It was amazing, just like the pain I was having in my stomach.

For the next 27 hours I experienced intermittent abdominal pain followed by explosive diarrhea. This happened about every 25 minutes. THE PAIN WAS THE WORST PAIN I HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. Imagine someone being able to twist, wiggle, and pull the nerve endings on your intestines and NOTHING could made the pain recede or lessen. That is what it felt like. It hurt to the point where I laid in the fetal position on my bed for hours upon hours, eating nothing except for cipro, acidophilus, and the occasional potato chip. It was horrible. I hope whatever is in my stomach is almost dead! (I am still feeling occasional pains).

After this 27 hour ordeal of pain and diarizz, I made it out to see some of the temples of Varanasi. The varied greatly from a tranquil temple in the middle of a university to a temple that had robotic gods playing music (this one was weird). Some of the temples were amazingly spiritual while others felt very dull. Some had music and lots of pooja happening and others had noting going on except the chirping of birds. That is all I feel like saying about these temples. Sorrie.

Try to imagine the following scene, my last train-ride in India (this trip at least), a 13 hour sleeper train from Varanasi to Delhi: Myself, an Israeli “Pacifist” who refused to ever serve in the Israeli army and who reminded me a LOT of the rabbi who presided at our wedding, two Buddhist monks from Vietnam, three Indian businessmen, an Australian flight attendant who had a child and who was also divorced and who said that most male flight attendants aren’t gay, and a bottle and a half of Vodka.

Sleeping at the Taj Mahal

So, I find myself travelling alone in northern India, yet I don't feel alone at all, as all of the places I am visiting are packed with tourists and Indians. Three crazy things just happened to me:

1. I just rode in an autorickshaw with 10 people. For those who don't know how small an autorickshaw is, it isn't meant for 10 people. It is meant for a maximum of 3 people, maybe 4 if they are kids.
2. I just saw the horse of a horse drawn carriage fall down while running with 7 passengers in the carriage. Maybe "one horse power" isn't enough for seven people?......
3. I just made a urinary movement in a "public bathroom" on the street. It was absolutely gross. There was shit all over the floor, it smelled narsty, and there was a small golf ball sized hole for materials to thrugh which definitely wasn't working.

A few things to note:

1. India has no health regulations, no traffic laws, and no safety regulations at all.
2. Child labor is alive and doing well here.
3. I will be on a train for 35 of the next 72 hours.

I am in Agra right now. The ancient architecture here is truly unbeleiveable. Yesterday I went to the Agra "Red Fort", the "Baby Taj" (as Rickshaw Wallahs call it), and Akbars Mosoleum. Each site was breathtaking, and cannot be put into words. What I can tell you though, is that at one point yesterday at the masoleum, I had two monkeys on me; one on my head and one on my shoulder.

Today I woke up early at 5:42 (Ellyn and I don't like numbers to end in odds, actually Ellyn doesn't and I adopted the ritual) and headed over to the Taj Mahal for sunrise. Again, it was a sight that cannot be put into words. All I can say really is that it is a massive, beautiful, perfectly constructed specimen of architecture. While there I found a place to lay down and sleep. I think I was the only person sleeping at the Taj Mahal because numerous times I opened my eyes to see people poiting, laughing, or taking pictures. Following this I took a boat ride with a friend of a friend named Tony, who happens to be a tourguide for the Taj Mahal, a trainee actually. Anywhoo, we went out on the river that the Taj Mahal sits on and enjoyed the views from the water....spectacular. We got ripped off by the boatman. He told us it would be 100 Rupees. Then, when we got out into the middle, he only gave us a crappy view of the Taj, and then he told us it would be more Rupees for a better view. WTF?

I didn't realize it, but, most of my pictures over the past few days were taken with 800 speed film. Hopefully they turn out well.

I got cut in line 6 times yesterday.

Side note: I am a little nervous about coming home because i don't want to be asked "how was india?" (by people who haven't read the blog). I don't feel like explaining something that cannot really be put into words....so i am trying to think of ways to diffuse the question. For example: "good", "nice", and "fun" are good conersation breakers.

Tonight I get on a 13 hour train ride to Varanasi, where I will spend some time in and on the Ganges River.

There are many monkeys here and besides sights, this place is a little bit dumpy.

Robitussin and Pungal

OK, I just tried uploading some pictures that would help illustrate my day yesterday, but, I was unsuccesful in doing so. So, these descriptions will have to do.

1. Pungal Festival- A few weeks back I wrote about some warm ginger-like concoction given to myself and Stew by a priest in Kerala. Yesterday, when I attended a festival, I learned that this was called Pungal. At this Pungal Festival, women sat around and cooked Pungal on stoves made of bricks, sticks, and pots. Some little girls got their heads shaved, as did some women. In addition, tumeric and powder was rubbed on their now bald heads. Respect was paid to Idiodipan (wrong spelling), the god of the village who if prayed to, will bring good rains during the upcoming monsoon season. There was music (both recorded and live), men on the exterior of the festival "pooneh watching", aka girl watching b/c pooneh=girl in Tamil, and lots of Pungal eating!

2. Cali Fire Festival- I went with my friend Vinoth to a nearby village named Kottakuppam to attend this festival. Here, respects were paid to the god named Cali by about five thousand devotees. Of these five thousand, two hundred and fifty of them were covered in tumeric, powder, and flowers. These two hundred and fifty people ran through an enormous pile of burning coals, which after 25o people dwindled to a path through the coals. There was chaos, people who were posessed by higher beings, food for sale, toys for sale, balloons for sale, incense, fires, rides for kids, and many people making pooja, or prayer.

3. Dinner at Vinoth's house- I had dinner in one of the villages at Vinoth's house. His mom gave me leftover Pungal from the Pungal Festival, a banana, water, water with "syrup from the boy" which tasted more like Robitussin than the "sweet water" it was supposed to be, and a dosa, which is a typical south Indian dish. It was great food!

Other notes:
a) Indian men wear collard shirts no matter what they are doing....all of the time.
b) I saw a man with a tight afro today. I think this shows the ancestral connection between India and Africa.
c) I get cut often when I am in line here. I also get cut on my body, by shells, knives, soccer games, etc. It's cool though, because I have anti-biotic ointment and bandaids.
d) I have a confession to make: I actually drive a 4-geared motorcycle which is 2 stroke, 100cc bike. I didn't want to tell anyone because I didn't want anyone to worry about me. I upgraded to this bike after the moped wasn't doing what I needed it to. 100cc's isn't very much though.......look it up.