Agra & Keoladeo National Park, Nadine’s story

I really believe it was not just luck but some higher power guiding us or our Karma that we found the sites that made John feel complete and our son understand and appreciate his father’s heritage. This was by far our greatest Indian experience.

Then on to finding a bus to Agra. We had hoped to get a nice a/c tourist bus w/ reclining seats but no such thing in Kanpur as no tourist traffic. Instead our driver kept yelling at bus drivers of moving buses until he finally found one going our way and hailed it down! 9 hr trip on local bus, stopping at every little village, the 3 of us squished in together on a bench seat, another Indian experience not to be forgotten.

We stayed in Agra for 3 nights. Filthy city with horrible touts wanting you to buy, buy, buy, rickshaw drivers in your face constantly to ride when we want to walk. We were at the Taj Mahal 31 yrs ago, when we could view it in peace. I remember being there with only a few other people. Now there are literally thousands, and some areas roped off. But still its beauty is not to be denied, aptly one of the 7 wonders of the world. So glad Kris was there with us. He had considered missing it, thinking it too touristy, but after viewing it said he was glad he did. He went with us for a sunset viewing and left the next morning on his own again. It was John’s 61st birthday (Nov. 3) that day, he did remember to wish him happy birthday and gave him a pebble from his house in Kanpur as a present (but John thinks he just got it out of a flower pot that was in our Agra hotel room, will have to ask him when we see him next). John and I went back to the Taj for sunrise viewing, pretty awesome birthday present I’d say.

Kris met a girl in Menali from Philly, she was born in Columbia. They made plans to meet in Goa, where he’d already been but different areas, and now I guess the season is picking up. He changed his Indian flight and will meet us in Amsterdam the last 2 nights. We have a week there where our friends from Scotland will meet up with us

John and I left Agra by hired car (no Kris so no need go on cheap transport! Yeah!), left Nov 4. We’re so tired (especially me) of the masses, the constant in-your-face hustling, over priced tourist shopping. We decided to come here, Keoladeo Bird Sanctuary, hoping it was going to be nice and peaceful like the tiger sanctuary, and it is! Nice hotel, hot water, toilet paper even, a/c, heaven! On the way over we stopped at Fatehpur Sikri, again mobbed by guides that are out of control, non stop, taxi drivers, I finally lost it! Yelled at the guy to stop, stop, stop and I went storming off! Walked the 1 km to fort, just couldn’t take it anymore. Poor John had to follow behind me, almost didn’t catch up to me, I was in such a huff. Yep, time to say bye to India, at least for me. I didn’t even see the fort, just sat outside reading my book, ignoring the kids coming up begging, selling stuff. Told John to go ahead, if I had to deal with all the shit I was going to slap somebody!

We got here, settled in our room and went b/4 sunset to the bird park in a bicycle rickshaw (not motor rickshaw), guide following along w/ his bike. We’re not bird fans but was pretty awesome. The guide had a real powerful telescope. His eyes and ears so keen, would see a bird and set up telescope on tripod for us to see. Amazing variety, beautiful colors, forgot all the names. This is a World Heritage park; I guess the best in Asia for bird viewing. John went off early this am to the park, rented a bike. I don’t know how to ride a bike so couldn’t go, fine w/ me.

We’ll be here 2 more nights then on to Delhi for 2 nights to catch our flight to Amsterdam, look forward to meeting some Scottish friends, then home. Hard to believe our 7 wk journey is almost at an end. Feels like it went by in a flash, and yet at times like we’ve been here forever (as my meltdown attests to). I’m so ready to leave, but so glad we came and shared this journey with our son, as I’m sure he won’t want to travel w/ Mom and Dad again. Right before my eyes I saw him develop into a world traveler. I’m confident now he can go anywhere, do anything and everything.

Kanpur home again

Kanpur

We did make it to Kanpur which was one of my goals for coming here, however it rightfully deserves its current reputation as one of the most polluted cities in the world. India is relatively easy to travel at all levels of budget, there is a fantastic tourist network set up in all the usual places where westerners visit. Kanpur is not one of these as we found out; unless you fly in and out it becomes a real challenge.

Originally we had planned on staying 5 nights there but because of our going to Udaipur and tiger refuge, waiting for Kris to catch up w/ us we only could spare 2 nights there.

We arrived in Kanpur late at night, horrible shit hole of a place. It’s just a big industrial city, not even in our guide book. We had hoped to book in a nice hotel where they would be helpful to our quest but not so. They were very uninterested in us.

The next morning we were all depressed and worn out, at noon we got a driver who spoke very little English however he drove us to a Christian cemetery. We got real excited when the book the caretaker brought out listing all the graves was written by a woman that was my principal at U.K.C.A. school in Kanpur where mom taught with Zoe (Powell) Yarland. We had actually met her again in London in 1982 when she was researching the books on Cawnpore. However this graveyard (Kacheri) is now a National Heritage Site, people buried prior to 1900. Some incredible stories on the gravestones give a little insight to their life and times.

Next stop the Cantonment area, we were suddenly in a place that resembled old Cawnpore, wide empty, tree lined streets, open fields and no sign of the masses and filth in the actual city. All Souls Church, a large Cathedral type building with a bell tower, beautifully preserved. There was the garden behind the church with the guardian angle looking down on the grave of the 160 women & children murdered during the Mutiny. As soon as I walked into the church it seemed quiet, familiar and comforting, however there was no blue ceiling as I remembered, however as I turned and looked up at the area over the main alter there was the blue ceiling with the gold stars I remembered. I remember coming to this church with his Dad for Christmas Eve services, Mom being SDA let me go with Dad so I could experience the candles and carols so long ago. It was quite emotional remembering sitting there some 50-55 yrs ago with my father.

I surprisingly found my old house, down a long alley from the main road, I remember growing up in and met the family that is living there now. The son is a lawyer and spoke perfect English; the Father began working for Cooper Allen in 1962 and is now retired. He knew many of the people I remember Dad telling stories about and the names triggered many memories. The house has changed and seemed smaller than I remembered as a child but was definitely the same place. Hard to imagine at one time we had 13 servants. They seemed a little skeptical until I said “there used to be a big mango tree there” this brought a great reaction from the family their neighbors and all looking on. They had just cut it down 6 weeks ago. They invited us inside for a look around. They are Hindu so the place is now decorated in modern Hindu style. I think some of the interior rooms as well as the exterior has been changed thru the years and is quite run down since the Brit age! The water trough, grass/reed fan coolers were still in some of the windows. I can remember the workmen building and installing them, they looked their age! Mom loved her roses and proudly proclaimed she had 200 growing in the back yard, sure enough some of the roses are still there, sharing the yard with the Buffalo and goat.


We attended Sunday services and met Pastor Carroll after the service, he took us back to his office and pulled out the old ledgers and I did find Winifred Beatrice Bason listed as passing 1964.
To have Kris sitting next to me in a place which for so long has only been a memory of Christmas Eve’s 55 years ago was an amazing feeling. We went to the old graveyard, which was terribly overgrown and weren’t able to find the grave but we knew we were at least in the right cemetery. According to Pastor Carroll most of the records at Christ Church were lost, we went there but I didn’t get a chance to follow up on this, they were having a service in Hindi and we needed to catch a bus so couldn’t wait around.
Our Taxi driver yelled at a local bus going the other way and before we knew it we were crammed into the seats along with the locals for a 9 hr ride to Agra, stopping at all the villages as we went, cost each $2.

Pushkar Camel Fair Oct. 26 - 30

Oct. 26 - 29
Arrived Pushkar at dusk, a couple of kids grabbed our bags and disappeared around a corner heading uphill around a couple of cows. Our floor on the 3rd. floor was adequate and had great hot water and pressure, something rare lately. At the evening prayer call, there was a cloud of bats arising from the old abandoned building across the alleyway. Pushkar Lake which used to be a man made lake used for bathing for the faithful. Earlier this year however it was drained due to the over pollution of the water, basically the sewers emptied into the lake and the government had drained it and was now bulldozing the bottom to make it deeper, god knows what toxins this released into the air after centuries of use. Pushkar has the only Brahmin temple in India.
On the way to check out the lake there was an amazing site of sweet shops making guabjullams and jellabies over open fires.
The next morning we headed for the Mela Grounds or stadium for the camel race and the horse dancing competition. The Camel race was a joke as they raced two laps around the small soccer sized stadium; however the winner cut the last 3 corners and was declared the winner amongst a protesting crowd. The horse dancing was another thing altogether! Nadine & I got to the area early enough to have seats inside the “corral” like area that the horses performed in, so close as to almost have my foot crushed on by a horse that was way out of control.
The camel festival is beyond my ability to describe and the pictures can’t paint a true picture of what’s there. So I’m going to just give my impressions of what I saw. First more camels, horses, cows and buffalo in one place than you can imagine. Huge jet black & snowy white Arabian stallions, raised on the desert and ready to stud, owned by nomads and Indian mafia alike.
Thousands of camels, bedded down next to tents with men lighting fires and cooking chapatties while smoking and passing the chillum around. Herds of buffalo flowing down the streets as Honda Heroes tore by in-between the rickshaws and masses of pilgrims. Snake charmers, acrobats, tight rope walkers, beautiful faced children in rags saying ‘hello” and holding their hands out, dusty sandy tracks; flowing, shimmering, bright saris with gold nose and earring laden women. All with a loud background noise of constant drums and chanting.
Kris won a trophy playing on the visitors’ team against the locals in Kamala, a tag your it like game only with team tackling/wrestling allowed (they came in second vs. the locals). A lot of fun to watch, even if you don’t really know the rules, but really tough to play in the sand, especially if you’re a malnutritioned, diarrhea ridden poor back-packer.
The last morning Kris and I climed up to see Brahma’s 1st. wife’s temple, the view was more impressing than the temple, sipping chai and watching the monkeys play while the sun rose put a stamp on the beginning of the day of travel to Kanpur and old memories.