One of the unavoidable truths of having visited so many parts of India in such a short period of time was that we had a pretty embarrassing carbon footprint, taking planes instead of trains and drinking lots of bottled water instead of water out of the tap. India is particularly vulnerable to climate change, as melting glaciers in the Himalayas threaten much of the country’s water and food supply, so I’ve got a little San Francisco green guilt creeping in on my conscience.

Thanks to my folks for paying my airfare to India, Ramya’s family for their incredible hospitality and generosity while there, and a very favorable exchange rate, I actually spent a lot less money than I expected for such a big trip. Sooo, I just bought carbon offsets to mitigate my carbon footprint while flying to and from India, and domestic air, rail, and car travel.

At the recommendation of “In India” subscriber Michael Silberman (who first told me about carbon offsets a couple years ago), I visited BrighterPlanet.com to calculate my footprint, and purchase a little over $100 in credits — investments in new green energy and reforestation projects — to “offset” all of the carbon dioxide I was responsible for pumping into the atmosphere while traveling. Here is the very rough approximation of my impact:

18,601 miles AIR transport = 7,599 lbs of CO₂ emissions
500 miles AUTO transport = 754 lbs of CO₂ emissions
726 miles RAIL transport = 154 lbs of CO₂ emissions
TOTAL CARBON FOOTPRINT = 8,506 lbs of CO₂ emissions

Yikes, that’s about what the average American produces in 4 months! If you’d like to mitigate your footprint on your next trip, you can purchase credits at BrighterPlanet.com or TerraPass.com — or just Google “carbon offsets” — and Mother Earth (and granola-lovers everywhere) will love ya for it!

[Oops... I wrote this last week but it didn't get published. We're both home safe now!]

We’re still here in Goa (which should be re-named “paradise” because it pretty much is). For all of you who are enjoying the snowy streets of Michigan or New York, we’d just like to let you know that it’s 30 degrees Celsius/85 degrees Fahrenheit here (yes, that was gloating you heard).

We’ve been trying very hard to relax here (poor us). I seem to be a lot better at this than Jamie — I found a smutty romance novel at the resort “library” and am tearing through it while lounging poolside.  Jamie can sit for about ten minutes before he gets antsy and wants to try something new.

One of today’s “new somethings” was waterskiing (I should clarify that Jamie waterskied while I took photos from the speedboat).  He was actually pretty good, and even managed to dismount onto the beach very gracefully! The onlookers were very impressed.

 

However, it would be remiss of me not to include this glorious video I captured of one of his wipeouts.  Do enjoy — I certainly did while filming

Its 3am and Ramya and I are sitting in Delhi’s airport before parting ways to head home (Ramya goes East through Beijing, and I go West through London). We’ve had an incredible trip, though I think we both wish we could have spent more time in every one of the places we visited!

Today we had the very special opportunity to witness judicial proceedings at the High Court and Supreme Court of India in Delhi. It turns out Ramya’s aunt Lataa and her uncle Ram are big shot lawyers with cases to argue before the courts, so we got a fascinating glimpse of the Indian legal system. Both courts were actually somewhat chaotic — sort of like traffic court with lots of lawyers (all in black robes) and a digital ticker indicating the current item before the bench. But the Supreme Court chambers were as grand and impressive as those of the U.S. Supreme Court, and the back-and-forth between the lawyers and justices was just as combative and impassioned.

We learned a lot about the Indian legal system from Ram’s staff. I’d say it rivals the American system in terms of the shear magnitude of procedural paper-pushing that takes place, but it also seems to provide the best hope for the preservation of the “fundamental rights” (as established by the Indian Constitution) and aspirations of the common man in a place where Parliament rarely seems to give much attention to those goals.

I’ll have to leave that thought unfinished, as it’s almost wheels up for Heathrow. Thanks for following along with our wonderful voyage through the Subcontinent, and look forward to final reflections and photos in the coming days!

Ramya and I are back in Delhi, our last hurrah before heading back home on Saturday. We hardly gave Southern India justice, spending just two nights with Ramya’s uncle Murali in Chennai, formerly Madras. But we made the most if it, sampling roadside coconuts and Southern Indian cuisine (a Thali, a sampler platter of various rices and curries), visiting Dakshina Chitra (sort of like the Indian village version of Colonial Williamsburg), and checking out Marina Beach (which Murali proclaimed to be the world’s second longest beach next to Miami, though there were no thongs and far more stray dogs).

  

But the highlight of our time in Chennai was getting to see Priya (Ramya’s aunt, Murali’s wife) perform in a traditional Bharatnatyam dance. It’s as much a pantomime as it is dance, in which detailed facial expressions and hand movements convey emotion and tell traditional Hindu stories along to a Carnatic orchestra. Those who know me may be surprised to see me getting so worked up about dance, but Bharatnatyam does more for me than what I usually associate with “dance,” and I really enjoyed Priya’s performance.

Video here:

Also of note: we stayed in the “Ecotel,” where low flow faucets and an in-room recycling bin helped us (marginally) reduce our footprint. There was even a green, tree-shaped button next to the bed which turned off the AC and illuminated a sign outside our room door boasting “Eco friendly guest.” If living sustainably actually was as easy as hitting a little green button I might be better at it, but that’s a topic for another post on another blog!

In the third act of the play that is our trip to India, the Krishnamurtis (my mom’s family) play a starring role. We had a brief (too brief) stay in Bombay (Mumbai I suppose now) where we hung out with Shyam Mama and Suresh Mama (my mom’s brothers), Shivani Auntie, and my cousin Tarun.

Though we didn’t get to live out our dream of becoming Bollywood extras, we did take a really awesome night tour of Bombay in a double-decker bus (apologies for the lack of inspiring photos — my camera doesn’t do night shots particularly well). Of all the places we’ve been thus far, Bombay architecture seems to be the most reminiscent of its former British overlords (Victoria Rail Station is a particularly striking example).

The other theme of the past two days has been the ingestion of mass quantities of food (I’m definitely realizing where I inherited my insatiable appetite from.) In Bombay we went to Soam, where we had truckloads of classic Gujurati food. Jamie remarked that he wasn’t yet tired of Indian food and I can see why. We’ve sampled a monumental array of different dishes from a variety of regions in India, so each meal is a new culinary journey (Padma, Tom and Gail would be proud).

The next morning we pushed off to Pune where the good times (and the binging) continued with Gowri Chitti (my aunt), Murali Chittapa and his folks, and cousins Madhuri, Tejas and Tara.

We ate dinner at a really nice restaurant with AMAZING food. The décor was modern Indian and beautiful, with the exception of a hideous Kingfisher beer statue complete with zinging lightning bolts. When the check came and we were all sufficiently stuffed, I filled out a comment card (these cards are very popular here — feedback seems to be of the utmost importance) noting the wonderful food and the possible removal of the tacky statue (I was half joking). As we were leaving, the waiter stopped me and asked me I would kindly clarify my comment card and point out exactly which statue did not meet my approval — I was busted. Gowri Chitti hastily choked out a far more polite response than I uttered under my breath (”that statue is hideous”).

I hope that the good food will continue for the remainder of our trip, but I think I can safely say that I will not be filling out any more comment cards…unlike the States, it appears they are actually read here.

The tropical paradise portion of our trip is coming to a close, as we wait in Goa’s maddeningly chaotic airport (chaos caused mostly by obnoxious European tourists who are either too rude, or too high, to wait their turns in line) to catch our flight to the megalopolis of Mumbai. We’ve had a wonderful three days in Goa, a much slower-paced, easy-going enclave which seems to have taken after its former colonial power (the Portuguese, up until 1961).

Yesterday we left the not-so-real-world of our resort (which was absolutely lovely, and for whom we have Lataa and Shyam to thank a million times), and took an auto-rickshaw to the state capital, Panaji. We indulged in some very spicy Goan cuisine (chicken xacutti… Mmmm!) and snapped a few photos of the main church. The Portuguese seem to have been much more successful at spreading Christianity than the Brits, with more crosses erected across the countryside than anywhere I’ve ever been and a couple “Jesus” bumperstickers (just like Michigan!).

From Panaji we hitched a ride up to the famous party beaches of Goa (Anjuna & Vagator), but as it turns out the party seems to have ended after a decade of government crackdowns and post-Mumbai security precautions. We rented a scooter and managed to remember to stay on the left-hand side of these slightly more manageable roads, though I would not say I conquered my fear of two-wheeled motorized modes of transport. From behind the handlebars we saw many, many European tourists doing the same thing (though the high ratio of dreadlocks would seem to suggest they might have been more disappointed to discover that Goa had passed it’s prime as a hippie haven), as well as beautiful scenery (plush tropical forests, sandy beaches, and a sunset over the sea). Shortly after dismounting, a meandering cow charged at me with its horns, but no one seemed to notice this mildly embarassing episode and I have no injuries to report.

Looking forward to meeting Ramya’s family in Mumbai, Pune, and Chennai in the coming days. As always, we’ll get some new photos up as soon as we find our way to a computer!

After exploring Northern India at a frenetic pace for the past week or so, Ramya and I are unwinding at a beautiful resort in Goa. They also have decent internet here, so we’ve finally managed to upload some more photos and videos. Check them out on the map, or click here for the Flickr feed! (We’ll try to get Taj Mahal photos up ASAP but we’re having some technical difficulties with that camera!)

As I write this post, we are winding through the precipitous mountains of Himachal Pradesh, in a car artfully commanded by our driver Pema. Himachal Pradesh is poised at the foothills of the Himalayas, and the terrain allows for stunning snapshots as well as potential carsickness.

We’ve spent the past two days learning about Tibetan Buddhist culture by exploring Dharamsala/Mcleod Ganj (home of the Dalai Lama) and staying at the Sherabling Monastery. When we were wandering around Mcleod Ganj, we realized that the hippie shopkeepers in Berkeley are making a pretty penny marking up hemp ponchos and “Free Tibet” swag. Up here a “Free Tibet” hat goes for about 50 Rupees, or a dollar.

Sherabling is located about four hours from the nearest major train station (Pathankot) and the fresh, clean air there was a welcome reprieve from the smoky, smoggy city. As we meandered through the monastic buildings and surrounding trails, I was struck by the variety of intense colors — the green and brown of the tiered rice paddies, the slate of the rocks in the dried riverbed, the deep red and saffron of the monks’ robes, the electric lime of Jamie’s fleece, the rainbow of Tibetan prayer flags billowing in the breeze. I was glad that we were able to take day to sit back and enjoy the beauty in our surroundings.

Sadly, amidst all of that beauty, I must confirm that my worst fear has come true — Crocs have completely permeated global society. I saw a monk sporting a pair with his robes at the monastery this morning. Thankfully, there have been no Ugg sightings yet so there is still hope for mankind.

By the end of today we will have covered nearly 500 km (300 miles) travelling by road between Jaipur, Agra, and Delhi. But these roads are a far cry from the New Jersey Turnpike, and each mile offers a new source of amusement, visual/auditory/olfactory stimulation, and absolute gut-wrenching terror.

Amusement comes in the form of animals wandering through the streets and highways — cows, dogs and even monkeys — totally unphased by the honking vehicles navigating around them. The animals truly own the roads here. 9 or 10 people on an auto-rickshaw is not an uncommon sight, nor is a tractor towing a bicycle or a donkey hauling a cart with half a dozen grown men on it — generally right down the middle of the highway.

The senses are overwhelmed by the every imaginable color — in dress, on billboards (99% of which are painted, not printed), and in painted designs on the sides of almost every truck. The never-ending symphony of horns (drivers honk pretty much everytime they pass another car or truck) ranges from lorry baritone to Toyota soprano, and even includes musical clown horns to calm the nerves. And distinct smells waft into the car along every stretch of road — incense, smoke from controlled brushfires in the countryside, noxious fumes in the cities, and raw sewage pretty much anywhere.

Lastly fright, with one seeming “near miss” after another, as bicyclists, tractors, pedestrians, trucks and cars all share the same road, each moving at their own pace. The operating norm seems to be that one has the right-of-way so long as oncoming traffic can stop/slow down in time to avoid collision. This made things particularly interesting this morning when the road from Jaipur to Agra was shrouded in the thickest fog I’ve ever seen, and our driver would skillfully hit the brakes just in time to avoid a vehicle suddenly emerging from the white. Given these challenging traffic norms, I have been incredibly impressed with the skill of our drivers, whose seeming near misses would be crushing metal if instead it was me behind the wheel.

Today we visited the magnificent palace and former Mughal capital at Fatehpur Sikri, and the even more incredible Taj Mahal in Agra, before parting with my family to commence the next leg of our trip. Both of these sites deserve a lot more ink than I’m giving them here (and a lot more time than we were able to spend visiting them), but just trust that they were both incredibly fascinating and spectacular, and that my poor photography skills do not do them justice. Nevertheless, we’ll try to get the photos up ASAP.

We’re almost to Delhi, where we will catch an overnight train to Dharamsala, home of the Dalai Lama and a large Tibetan exile community. Stay tuned for our next update from the Himalayas!

A few photos from my phone:

Check out our new photos and Trippermap! (We’ll try to get more up when we find a faster connection!)

Today began with a quick elephant ride up to the huge fort in Amber (a 400 year old fort) just outside Jaipur, along with all the other tourists (most of whom are actually Indian). I felt bad for the elephants the whole time, especially when I saw one of the elephant drivers with a sharp metal spike — it definitely seemed like some sort of torture device.

At the fort I was most intrigued by the ornately mirrored walls of one of the rooms, while Jamie was mesmerized by the advanced plumbing, cooling and air filtration techniques used throughout the compound by the Rajputs (he watches way too much Modern Marvels). We also hiked up a long steep path to the top of the fort and got a great view of the city (I felt like we earned the lunch that followed).

Now we’re back at the hotel and excited for some chill time

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