The Ground Floor: Paris 0

11 March

The Tucson airport was full of Wildcats (all of whom we knew) headed to watch this guy do his thing in Vegas.  Normally I would never dream to leave during this magical time of Conference Championships and first weekend of the Tournament but schedules can not be helped.

Due to circumstances we caught an upgrade to First Class for the first leg from Tucson to Dallas and enjoyed all the comforts associated there-to.

Super comfortable, as in so comfortable that I left Tina's iPad in the seat back pocket because I was too comforted to put it in my bag.  A mad dash back to the gate before the Paris bound plane and a crisis averted.

No actual upgrade for the Dallas to Paris leg but we did have the exit row which is a basic human right for a person over 6' tall. As the Revolution taught us: Liberté, égalité, fraternité and leg roomité.

T and I usually speak Spanish when in a crowd to avoid eavesdroppers.  If you have never heard me speak Spanish or attempt to whisper, I'm the best at both.  All the people sitting around us were from Mexico except a lady in the row behind us which led to the following scene:

CB: I'm tengo hambre
CB: La mujer over there tener una cara muy grande como un vaca
TB: Everyone can hear you and no
CB: Is the tiempo para comer yet?
TB:
LadyBehindUs: Pardon me ma'am, is this plane going to Paris?  I seem to notice everyone speaking a form of Spanish.

We whiled away the hours watching the movie about the jazz teacher who loves jazz super much (which makes this fiction I think) and punches people and the drummer who cares.....who cares is right.  It simply consumed 2 of the 9 hours.

I can't sleep on airplanes due to a fear of falling + dying, the suspension of disbelief of which I can not perform.  Whilst Tina slept I watched the equally bad Fury.  Fury is such a bad movie that I might re-watch it to see if it perhaps a parody that I sort of missed.  It is fun to watch faceless, hapless Nazis being blown up but overall a pretty dumb film.

We can however recommend the historical novel Paris by some dude.  It is not a good piece of prose (types the guy setting the record for run-on sentences) but it is a useful narrative line that captures some of the city's history in context.  The setting in time jumps back and forth a bit gratingly but if you lived in the century of paper and pens you should consider circling each place he mentions on the map for a little context when you visit.

I enjoy History and Herstory and frankly everyone's story and don't even require much that they are true.  What follows is the short version of Paristory that as the resident house history nerd I provided TinaB throughout our travels.  Some of it is even true.  Next post will be all about our actual trip I promise.

• Cave dudes (called Troglodytes here) on the run from wooly mammoths in Africa get tired of walking and stop here (BCE  9 or 10 K years)
• Un-Roman people make towns and feel pretty all right about things. The put up a little walled fishing village on an island in the Seine river.  The Seine flows in from the Atlantic coast so West to East.  If you are going down river, as you pass Paris you have a Right Bank and a Left Bank which will be important later for snootiness purposes. (BCE  250 - 52)
• Romans roll up and 'civilize' everyone by killing them and building super fancy communal outhouses and gladiator arenas. They also plant the seed for the most famous comic none of us Americans know about. (BCE 52)
• Jesus sent Denis to Paris (CE 250s) and the Romans cut off his head.  He becomes the patron saint of the headless in Paris.
• Atilla the Hun swings by (CE 451) to burn down the city but finds this lady praying super hard.  Atilla was basically a nice guy and tried not to interrupt old ladies praying so he just kept standing around waiting for her to wrap it up.  After making the circular 'hurry it up' motion invented by the Huns (not the Huns who show up later..several times actually) he finally got tired of looking at his wrist-mounted sun-dial and had his gang head down the road to pillage Orleans.  She became the patron saint (also?) of Paris and is the most despised figure in what is left of Orleans.
• French kings are invented late CE 400s and cruise along for a while (often named Louis) and then decide to make things more complicated by allowing (some) people to (sort of) vote around the CE 1400s.
• At various points the Jews are killed/kicked out, the Protestants are massacred, the Templars are burned etc.  During this period it was never really wise to not be just the right sort of Catholic in Paris.
• All the above sets the table for everyone to get eventually Enlightened and then mad about all of it and then to burn the whole structure down several times starting in the late 1700s.
• Louis XIV (pronounced the Sun King) rules for 75 years as the sort of hose wearing monarchical tough guy you would expect.  He starts and wins lots of wars, builds things and moves most of the royal court out of Paris.  All of which preps things downstream for Louis XVI to get his head chopped off.
• Louis XVI (pronounced Louie 16) shows up (1775 and despite not being particularly terrible just happens to be the guy in the chair when the modern ideas like Liberty etc. pop up.
• As things are getting hectic he calls a meeting of the Estates General including Estate 1 = Priests, Estate 2 = Nobility and 3 = everyone else where 'everyone' = white, Catholic, uppermiddleclass dudes of course.  The Estates are literally asked to write down what they think is wrong with the country.  The process of writing all this down and getting together to argue about it lights the match.  States 1 and 2 lock the 3rd out of the meeting room one morning and so they rally (wink) at the nearby tennis court and invent a Tennis Court oath  (yeah) which is why you see a tennis ball so prominently displayed on the French flag today.
• The next few years get super crazy and the Revolutionaries put the guillotine up in what is now Concorde plaza and start chopping off heads.  They eventually run out of priestly and noble heads to chop off so they start on each other.
• Some of the Catholics who lost out in the Revolution got a little army together and came at the new bros in Paris.  The Directory guys asked if anyone knew how to fire a cannon down a narrow street and wouldn't mind aiming it as some fellow Frenchmen. Napoleon volunteered, naturally.  From there he more or less conquered Europe and the first 5 Coalition armies all the way to Russia before eventually losing to the snow and then later more decisively to the 6th Coalition.  As it relate to Paris, this is important because Napoleon had himself called the first Consul and then later the Emperor and commissioned a ton of art and building to commemorate (in Roman style) how fantastic he was.  My favorite is in the Louvre where he has the Pope come down to Notre Dame to watch him crown himself.
• Later his nephew Napoleon III (confusingly the First President of the Second Rebublic and the the First Emperor of the Second French empire) takes over and gets this Haussmann guy to re-design the city into the format we now know.  He also picked a fight with the Prussians (Germans) who eventually besieged Paris and starved most everyone there to death.  The French gave them Alsace to go away.
• In a little gap at the end of the siege before the Army comes back to Paris, a Communard group takes over the city and calls it the Commune of Paris.  They are slaughtered when the guys with guns come back home.
• World War I is fought largely in France and everyone on all sides die.
• The Germans come back in 1940 during WWII and take over.  The Vichy government is setup to collaborate with the Germans, ship Jews to concentration camps and deal with the Resistance who work to do the opposite of all those things.  There are small, white monuments all over Paris on the sides of buildings memorializing WWII heroes, many from the Resistance.
• From the end of WW2 we pretty much have the Paris we see now with the addition of more immigrants from primarily Muslim countries and former colonies.  This changing social demographic is a favorite complaint of cab drivers in Paris specifically and France in general. Je suis Charlie. 

Mise en Place: Paris -1

5 nights in and we are finally pausing to rest at the Chateau de Verrieres (pronounced the usual way) (thanks Sivillis for the recommendation).  I'll walk back a bit to the beginning of the trip but at halftime we are in the lead.

The urge to be full-on type-A-first-born-over-do-ers is strong and Paris in particular will consume you if you let it.  The more I travel, the more I re-enforce for myself that checking off boxes of famous places to see is a dangerous business.  Some are under- and some are over- and I suppose a few are perfectly- whelming but as always it is the process not the product that ends up mattering. That is a long way to say that we have left plenty on the list of to-dos for a future visit and are viewing this in part as a reconnaissance for a future sortie (those are French words used incorrectly because French).

In prep for our 10 days we read all the blogs and guides and made lists and put off learning any French until it was far, far too late.  Our friends who had preceded us offered up the Common Wisdom:

1. The Louvre is big and you should only see a part of it
   1a. The Mona Lisa is tiny, crowded etc.
2. Just drink the house wine, it's cheap and great
3. Bring shoes you can comfortably cover ground in
4. The Metro goes everywhere
5. You don't really need to speak French
6. Watch out for pickpockets at the X.  Where X is everywhere tourists go which is everywhere.
7. On the first day, walk up to the biggest, meanest guy you see and punch him in the face as hard as you can.  You may lose the fight but you will gain their respect.
8. Dan Brown is the authoritative source for all the Parisian history you will need.

Some of that advice was good and some will get you arrested (#5).  At the midpoint I will add a few more.

1. Learn how to wear a scarf, it is a real and actual thing.
2. Free WiFi  (pronounced WeeFee) is a lie on several levels
3. Drinking black coffee is for uncultured barbarians
4. You are an uncultured barbarian
5. You will be mistaken for British which is code for uncultured barbarian
6. The dairy here is from some other species of cow that has never existed in the US.  It must be a closely held trade secret and so I have filled my suitcase with packets of butter.

To wrap up this introductory post I will say that much of the prep we did was useful and I'm glad I spent the time.  

Re-re-Introduction

Plainly my last post was a lie and we didn't document anything from our month of living in SF.  To the degree that we write or record anything for the Paris it will (or will not) be here.

Re-Introduction

So this blog started off to chronicle the Sweden adventure and the various side-trips related thereto and then sort of meandered into marathon-ing and then fizzled.  I think that is fine because blogging simply to blog is uninteresting.  I started some posts about India but then the India-ness of it all overwhelmed and I'm still attempting to process the whole thing.

Our family is embarked upon a new adventure and I thought I'd breath life into this golem one more time and document our San Francisco month.

Walkabout

Tina had some more shopping to do so I tagged along with the camera to do some walkabout of the streets and get pictures of the slice of life stuff I had been driving by.  I get lots of stares here, nothing threatening ever but very frank looks of ‘wow, that guy looks funny’.  I went to a few shops and bought a coke, snacks etc.  I talked to some people and had a little sit down for tea.  1 old man stopped me while I was snapping some cows eating garbage and asked me to take his photo.  This happened fairly often, I’m not sure what the photographee gets out of it but they seem pretty pleased and aren’t shy about asking me to do it.  This particular guy gave me 10 minutes on how bad Indians are about garbage.  I took this to mean with regard to throwing trash on the street and/or the local authorities not picking it up.  He also seemed to be making a larger point that it had always been like this and always would be.  For my part I think that if you are going to have cows roaming free and want them to handle of all the organic composting for you right there on the sidewalk that’s fine but you have to figure out what to do with the plastic.  All the little bodegas sell these tiny packets that have little bits of crunchy flavored stuff.  Think sunflower seeds sold by the pinch.  The problem with them is that the wrappers are all tossed on the ground immediately after consumption.  You can’t look 10 feet in any direction without seeing brightly colored wrappers littering the street.  The old man was embarrassed and upset by this and I can’t blame him.

Goats, Trains and a Harrowing Escape

Tuesday was a pretty laid back day.  We started a little rough w/ no hot water in our shower forcing some Indian style ‘squat and fling water at smelly parts’ technique.  It was early in the trip and everyone still had the spirit of adventure going so no major protests went lodged.  I worked on arranging travel/hotel for us to get to Jaipur on the 28^th/29^th and on to Agra from there.  The train booking system was mystifying me so I enlisted help.  Turned out I was doing it all right but there were no spaces avail. on any trains going from Vadodara to Jaipur.  Apparently I could go down to the station and get better results by claiming part of the foreign tourist quota.  This is a 5-10% set aside on every train saved for those like me which gets released to locals 24 hours before the train leaves.  Sounded easy enough so I arranged for a lift to the train station the next morning.

I was kinda punked out for some reason and stayed in bed sleeping a good part of the day.  T and the kids hung out w/ the family for 1 year old Eshan’s b-day.

Wednesday

Every Train Station in the world smells to varying degrees like urine.  Let me clarify, varying degrees doesn’t mean there are any that smell 0% like urine.  I guess we’d say the range is from 5% of the air is actually urine to 100%.  Vadodara train station is in the upper 70s.  There are mangy sleeping dogs everywhere and a great deal of anxious scurrying by humans whose purpose I never quite nailed down.  After several mis-starts (wait 20) I finally got to the appropriate queue and was 3^rd in line when without so much as a ‘piss off’ the guy running the line dropped a ‘closed sign’ and said he’d be back from lunch in 20.  The problem of course is that this is the only line that can hand out the tourist quota tickets.  Wait 20.  I made it to the front only to be told I had to do a different form.  Back to the end of the line.  Wait 20.  Back to the front and now the bastard tells me that the trains I requested are full and I’d be on a waitlist.  He did this with 2 keystrokes and could easily have told me the first time when I had the wrong form but such is bureaucracy so no melt down.  Before I left he did advise me that there was ‘no chance’ I’d make the train.  No explanation, just ‘no chance’.

Frustrated I found the rickshaw pool out front and asked who would take me the gom (that’s town for us down w/ the lingo) and for how much.  I knew from having checked earlier w/ the family that 50 was the real number.  The first 8 guys wouldn’t go less than 100 so I just started to walk away when one guy kind of boldy stepped forward, puffed up his chest and said “I'll take you for 50”.  When we got there I gave him the 100 cause I liked the hustle and that sort of thing needs to be rewarded.  We went from there to a little garden party lunch put on by 1 of the aunties.  Good food and got to have my first fresh sugarcane juice.  By fresh I mean they had the cane in piles there and a rickety old machine cranking out juice by the cupful.  It looked like a wasteful process, getting very little juice for the quantity of plant pushed through but no matter, I loved it.  Not intensly sweet like a soda, just a nice pleasant refresher on a hot day.

From there we toured Laxmi palace.  The place was beautiful but hard not to think of the resources dumped into it when there was so much poverty around.  But during the Raj times I guess weird stuff like that was the norm.  The audio tour was nice and full of interesting facts like how the architect became obsessed with the idea that the foundation was not sound and so killed himself.  J esp. liked the armory, T and Sophia the clean bathrooms.

Back to the flat to get into tuxes and fancy business for the big Casino Night, featuring goat race and booze.  I don’t recall if I mentioned this or not but Gujarat is the only dry state in India.  Foreigners are allowed to buy and consume though so through complex machinations involving passports and paperwork a great qty. of booze was laid on (later news reports valued the stash at 40K. US though I'm skeptical).  Me and J struggled through but eventually got our self-tied bow ties on, joined the girls (looking stunning) and drove to a secure farm location.  We were informed en route that these parties were sometimes raided but not to worry because the local police chief was invited and would be in attendance.  The needful had been done, or so we thought.

The place looked great and the bar was going strong throughout the first goat race.  The goat race is a special wedding add-on by one of the cousins based in Uganda.  He had run a few for other family functions and good time was had by all.  First he solicits goat owner consortia.  For 1K INR you and your friends can buy the rights to your choice of goats.  Winner gets the entry fees and the intense satisfaction of being proven a good judge of goat flesh.  Once the goats are all claimed the betting begins.  The Goat Race Master (assisted by the Assistant Goat Race Master –Jackson Baker) then announces the opening of the para-mutual betting period.  Winnings are shared pro-rata by everyone picking the right goat. 

I backed Bhapu (Sophia picked Big Momma) who led for the entire race including the warm up lap but was nosed out by NRI Patel at the line.  I’m not claiming a fix or a mis-read of the photo results but let’s just say that the chief of police was the primary owner of the NRI Patel goat and I noticed he and the Goat Race Master sharing a big whiskey just after the race results posted.

The program was to include a family skit followed by a series of additional goat races.  The family skit had been rehearsed since we arrived and the purpose was to ‘introduce’ each member of the family by having other members of the family do a sort of general imitation via dance set to favorit bollywood tunes.  Each was about 30 seconds and there must have been 30 family members introduced.  J, S and Tina were great sports and despite not know the songs, Hindi or any of the ‘moves’ did their part in several shows.  The family laughed at the inside jokes, the crowd laughed at the songs + spectacle of people dancing and the girl marrying in wondered what exactly she was in for.

During preparations for the next goat race I noticed a group of guys standing near the entrance talking animatedly.  Not wanting to be a pain, I hovered over nearby and grabbed a cousin to see what was up.  The rumor was we were being raided and the police were negotiating with the in charge uncles about letting most of the party go and just keeping a few to send to jail.  As things became more and more heated the guys on our side began pointing and gesturing (the Guji one where you take your right hand up by your head, palm in and make a kind of pinching motion and then rapidly and violently flinging it forward to an open hand in front of you as though you are pulling a super huge booger off of your forehead and flinging out in front of you to show someone) at me.  The whole group turned to me and considered me like I was some kind of puzzle they had not considered.  Eventually one of the uncles came over to me and told me to just stand there and watch what was happening but not to leave.  Odd.  The back and forth went on for about 15 minutes and the cops finally left.  I went back to the table to finish eating but the cousins started rounding everyone up insisting we leave immediately.  Apparently the uncles had gotten rid of the initial scout party but the ‘strike force’ was coming and we only had a little time to get everyone out.  I helped getting everyone away from the bar and into cars and as the last groups were heading out a shabbily dressed guy reached over and grabbed one of the cousins by the arm.  I kind of glared at the guy and when he noticed me I put my arm around the kid and we walked off.  Later I found out that he was the plainclothes that had infiltrated the party and was trying to grab a few before the strike force arrived.  I couldn’t figure out why me scowling at him did anything but glad that we got the kid home.  We went bouncing through the darkness in wildly overfull cars trying to find a back-way out of the farm country that would bring us around the roadblocks.  Once we were 10 mins down the road everyone kind of breathed easier and the aunties had a good cackle explaining to me the uncles told the police I was an American diplomat here on business and that if they busted the party with me in it, it would be a bad scene for all of them.  The deal they worked out was to let all of us go and just arrest the catering and bar staff.  I was assured that the unlucky ones knew this was a risk and ‘would be taken care of’.  I later learned this turned out to be true but also that a few regular people showed up late to the party and got caught in the net as well.  The guy that owns the farm is a cousin and had to hide out for about a week while  a deal got done to keep him out of jail. 

Sophia was a little freaked out but we talked her down eventually.  Jackson thought it was the coolest night of his life.  Assistant Goat Race Master on the run from the law in a foreign country.  I’ve been referred to as the American diplomat ever since.

Feet

We didn’t seem to have too much jet lag and got up at a reasonable hour to show up for breakfast.  We were informed we’d all be going for a day of beauty so split up as always…gents this way, ladies that way.  They gave me a shave (both face and dome) and when I looked later noticed it cost about $4.  I once paid $50 for a Royal Shave in Vegas and as far as experiences go, they were almost identical.   I’ve never had a facial, manicure or pedicure and I don’t much care if I get another one.  My heels are super dry and cracked (I make those Before pictures on the Heel Tastic commercials look smooth and supple by comparison).  I didn’t mind any of it except when the dude tried to put my foot into a crockpot of wax.  That too would have been fine but the crockpot is made for 1 large roast or a size 11 foot.  Like Operation, the trick to this procedure is to get your foot straight in without touching the sides on account-a they are super-crazy hot.  His English wasn’t good and he couldn’t or wouldn’t mention this fact and also he is bad at estimating foot sizes (mine is 14).  A bit of burnt foot smell later we go the procedure done and I was pronounced fit to display.

Everyone had bailed so flagged down the rickshaw man and through bad English, worse Gujarati, sign language and grunting I got him to take me home (maybe 5 KM) for .75 with tip. 

Back to the house I was instructed to take J, some younger cousins and a driver to go get shoes.  The theory is that me and J stay in the car and the local folks go negotiate a price before I show up.  The glaring American-ness of my visage apparently triples prices.  We haggled it through and I think I spent $50 for chumples (?) and mogiridi (?) for me and J.  Incidentally when the day of the event to wear my mogirdi came, the aunties decided I should wear my Eccos instead.  The mogirdis were too fancy for the wedding.  Wtf.   

On the way back the driver got a call that we had to pick up and old man and drop him at the clinic where Haresh was getting a malaria treatment.  Already present in the car were: driver, me, J, Tilak (14) and Tania (18).  The car was some type of micro-sedan so unless we were gonna tie the old dude on the roof I didn’t see how this was going to get done.  The resourceful driver flagged down an empty rickshaw and negotiated for him to follow us for the pickup.  When we came around the corner and the geezer saw our full car he lost his shit.  I offered to go in the rickshaw with Jackson but the driver wouldn’t have it so the old man finished his tirade and finally climbed into the rickshaw.  We watched out the back as he followed us and throughout the 10 min. ride he never let up in shouting at the rickshaw man.  We arrived at the clinic and the driver went over to direct mr. grumpy pants to the appropriate office.  He got another ass chewing while we watched and laughed.

Continuing the trend of not knowing what was coming we found out late that there was to be a Swaminarayan pray service (bhujan?) put on by Pooja’s family that evening.  We (the groom’s side) all thought this was an informal prayer session at the bride’s family’s house so no one got particularly dressed.  When we pulled up to the elaborately decorated lot and found the white gloved caterers there was a collective groan of ‘we look like slobs’ but home was 30 mins away so we soldiered on.  Dinner is a big bustling buffet where J and I got our first lessons in Guji buffet etiquette.  Push hard, wave plate and demand service.  There were candle stands with oil lamps sprinkled around and Sophia walked right into one with her eyebone.  We panicked at first thinking she had scalding oil dumped into her eyeball but thankfully it was just a solid thump instead.  After dinner we stopped into the swami service.  Fanatically hospitable as always they spotted the big white guy standing in the back and first insisted on bringing me a chair (I declined 6 times, chair got brung anyway) and then all but dragged me to sit up in the front.  I don’t much like people putting their hands on me and people here love putting hteir hands on me.  I shrugged the little usher guy off finally and we listened to the signing and preaching for a few and finally rolled out for the evening.

My Head is Spinning

Started our first real day to hang out with family and dive in to the wedding madness.  We slept in a bit and joined the gang for brunch in Sonal’s backyard.  Because the wedding had not officially begun there was some non-veg cooking happening in the backyard.  A little gas burner was setup so Tina and some of the less dietary-restricted aunties fried up some ham/bacon, a type of sausage and omelets.  Apparently during the actual wedding time no one is supposed to eat meat, or something. This was the big opportunity to get in some non-veg while it was allowed.  Let’s talk about veg and non-veg.  To this American the phrase ‘non-veg’ is one of those logic puzzles that cause my brain gears to seize up.  In this largely Hindu country the default assumption seems to be that the food will be vegetarian.  So if it’s anything but that then it’s ‘non-veg’ which means meat, eggs and cheese…or something.  I’ll not belabor the point of how unimaginable I personally find the concept of vegetarianism but will say that non-veg sounds like some kind of triple or quadruple negative.  During brunch a clamoring for Bloody Mary’s began and so we set off to town to find ingredients.  I guess clamor isn’t the right word, it was one guy but that guy has a big personality and I think is a little awesome.  Before the store we stopped by to visit Sonal’s husband Haresh who was in a little clinic above a grocery store (of all things) getting an IV treatment for malaria.  He told me he gets this every 15 years or so and after a few days of treatment is fine.  Gulp.  After the clinic, we set off in search of tomato juice and worchestchisre.  We failed to find anything so we stopped at a roadside vendor and bought his whole load of tomatoes.  They got chopped, vodka was added and we called it bloody mary.  Don’t judge us.

In the afternoon we went shopping for clothes for all the events.  Some earlier arrivers had ordered tuxedos and we stopped for a fitting at a place called Raymond’s.  Raymond’s must be a chain because I saw a few around town and even a reference to it in the book from 1973 I’m reading (Great Railway Bazaar).  Nice place doing all sorts of formal wear and made to measure suits and shirts.  We spent the most time at an ethnic wear (their term) shop getting the kurtas (link). Shopping is a very different experience here.  They brought us water, tea etc and I heard the girls were brought sandwiches and snacks.  Meanwhile all our measurements were taken (video) and the clerks began slapping cellophane wrapped packages onto the counter.  You basically tell the guy what sort of color you are looking for and either simple or whatever the Gujarati word is for not simple and he starts pulling down packages to which our leader would rapid fire ‘no, no, no, yes, no, no’ scanning through dozens at once.  We got the whole pile put together and made a side trip through the old city to have a different tailor make me a jodpuri suit.  The shop was in one of the tiny alleys of the old city and we got to watch some monkey mamas w/ babies in tow scamper down 1 side of the alley and up the other.  Never been that close to a real monkey before, despite the cuddly image they portray up-close they seem mean.

I’m still not ready to talk about driving in India but driving through the old city of Vadodara was totally nuts.  The streets are inches wide, lined with parked bikes/scooters/motorcycles, congested with pedestrians and somehow through all this squeeze lanes.  I’m not exaggerating to say that 1 average street lane in Tucson would be 2.5 here.  There are not many side mirrors and clearances between oncoming traffic is measured in mm.  There was tons of cool stuff to see but I’ll cover Vadodara generally in a later note.

The girls got back late from shopping fairly exhausted, we had some standard Gujarati food and off to bed.  Big first day.

Coming to Vadodara

We rented a car+driver combo to take a short tour through Delhi.  Our driver was super friendly but only spoke some pretty broken English so via pantomime and lots of nodding we hit a few major tourist sites before leaving for Vadodara.

India Gate is a major national pride.  12 people said this to me verbatim.  It must be printed on a coin or something. 

At the Humayun's Tomb we were joined by 6.5 million kids on school field trips.  One of the flickr pictures shows them in an endless line.  As I was walking by one of the little Sikh boys reached up and hi-fived me which I reflexively replied to.  Immediately 400 little arms also went up so I high five-d the entire line like a Jonas Brother which was awesome.

We got suckered into a Kashmiri museum.  You see the Kashmiris have lots of trouble right now so they pay cab drivers and hotel van operators to kidnap people and drop them by to hear about how Kashmiri rugs are awesome and Turkish/machine woven are just offensive garbage .  Oh and by the way you seem interested ma'am, maybe you would like to purchase a handmade rug...free shipping?  I knew this little scam existed but thought having the hotel driver would keep us out of the flim flammery.  I now know better.  Also Kashmiris are kind of rude and dismissive of women.  Tina is not down w/ that sort of business.  After sales dude shushed her 1 too many times, I removed the sheep shearing tool she stuck in his eye and we left.


There are some pictures over on the Flickr site but not much was remarkable.  I mostly get bored touring around famous landmark type places.  The fun of travel is in the travel and the people you meet on the way.

Off to the airport w/ our huge stack of luggage which caused a little stir but we convinced Jet Airways that because we were continuing on from an International flight we should get to carry the 40 metric tons of crap in our little trolley tower.  After seeing the plane later I understood why they were concerned.  I think we took the whole carrying capacity of the stupid little prop plane. 

In the airport we just had time for lunch, Sophia and T got Indian.  J got some 'fried chicken' at 4 Fingers according to the signage it has something do with New York, cause you know.....NY makes fried chicken.  The chicken wings were bone in and were the whole wing including the tips.  They were fried and served w/ a huge scoop of plain rice.  Awkward to eat but mostly ok.  I ate at McDonalds.  I don't eat much McD at home but figured I should try it out and see the difference.  Fries are the same, coke is served no ice and kinda warm and there is no beef.  Instead you can feast on the awesome sounding (and > Big Mac) Royal Maharaja Mac Double Chicken Spiced Meat Sandwich.  I also grabbed a paneer wrap which has no analog and was just good.

Flight was fine but we left late because a fat NRI dude inexplicably had to go back and forth from the bus that took us out to the tarmac 3 times.  I learned later that an NRI is a Non-Resident Indian and that this is 'NRI Season'.  Everyone comes back for weddings and such which explains the exorbitant rates on our plane tickets and the general feeling of sold-out-ness I got in booking accommodation and travel.  Most NRIs are fine but a few display a nice blend of rich, pushy Indian and ugly American which is a nuclear meltdown of manners.

We collected bags and were met by the house driver who remembered Tina from previous visits.  He launched into 1,000 kph Gujarati to which Tina replied "Si".  It took her a minute to change gears but thank god she does still speak it fluently making everything smooth for us while in Gujarat.  Tina's cousin is the one w/ the 2 kids having weddings and she is putting us up in an empty flat across the road from her place.  The building is under construction but this one tower seems done and its a nice place.  The shower is a bit mystifying but we have a Western style toilet so by definition are happy.

Arrival in Delhi

292 from ORD to DEL (link,map) is long, longer than I thought it was possible to go in the air.  We left about an hour late after some de-icing which I’ll always gladly wait for.  After take off and all we were served a nice meal, of which T and the kids hardly ate anything so I had like 4 portions because I am a gluttonous idiot.  A few hours later all the lights were shut off and they passed out some sack lunch type things so that everyone could nosh on their own sleep/wake schedule. 

I did manage about 4 x 20 minute naps along the way which for me is pretty good.  The thing is that the seats are not tall enough for me to be able to really settle in and even w/ the super specialized neck pillow I bought it was near impossible to get comfortable.  I made the decision to sit with the family even though I could have gotten an exit row or bulkhead.  That is not a mistake I’ll make again.  I love hanging out w/ T and the kids but sitting in regular coach seats for 15 hours is not something I’ll ever do again.

To pass the time I watched a pile of movies but most notably my first 2 real Bollywood productions.  I had seen pieces before but never invested the time to actually sit through one start to finish.  Up first was Dabanng (link) and it was great.  I don’t mean great as in actually great but great as in I was equally entertained and puzzled for like 3 hours which on a flight like that is what you want.  Dabang is about a cop with RayBan Aviators (amazingly similar to the ones I brought), a top button unbuttoned to show off his muscle-y hairy chest and one of the top 5 mustaches of all time.  As far as the story goes, I don’t have a clue what happened really.  He may have been a dirty cop, or a slightly less dirty cop but I know he took money from robbers and shot people sort of indiscriminately.  There were some good ‘bullet time’ action sequences and the big main theme song has him doing this dance w/ his belt that you can find here:.  Since I have the sunglasses I will do the dance for you upon request (link note the pit stains starting at :39, :55 begins the very very very famous belt dance, 1:12 he dispenses some foot-race justice and it just keeps going)

Up next was a movie I enjoyed un-ironically.  3 Idiots is silly and good without being too much.  Not gonna go into the plot cause it doesn’t matter but know that there is plenty of the quirky 'Indian' english, lots of singing and a big kiss scene at the end.  If you are going to watch a Bollywood flick, watch this one.  The English is great and full of ‘the needful’ but my favorite was rusticated.  I took it to mean expelled but it could have meant constipated, no way to know.

The girls behind me were white, 16, in a church group and silly in a very familiar way.  Evangelical Christians teens are awesome in their hardcore earnestness and loud declarations.  All that scripted language about being a servant, maintaining purity blah blah blah and truly believing they have the world figured out.  Without commentary on religion I'll just say that Christian or not, 16 year old humans are ridiculous.

With 3 hours to go we passed over Iraq and Afghanistan and it kind of tripped me out to think there were wars going on 35,000 feet below me and I said a little prayer to the flying spaghetti monster that the Mujahadeen didn’t have any SAMs left over from the Charlie Wilson days.

Breakfast was delivered about 2 hours before landing.  Some clever chef came up with a orange, white and green main dish (India flag..get it?) that I think had some green beans, paneer and some dahl or such.  Again, the family ate a fraction so I finished everyone’s food.  We got the customs forms and were glad to find that we didn’t need to declare anything.  Passport control was no problem and getting our bags took some time but no trouble.  The 3 trolleys loaded w/ the baggage were an impressive sight and we rolled through the ‘green lane’ at customs without even a second glance from the very bored looking old man taking the forms.

In the reception hall we found the Hilton representative holding a sign w/ my name and the drivers took over from there handling all the bags.  We had some tug of war over who was going to carry what but in the end I just relaxed and let them do everything.  It’s a tough thing for me to just let people handle stuff but I am making a commitment now to try.

We wheeled the carts around and tried to check them in w/ Jet Airways but Jet had just cancelled/rescheduled a bunch of flights and had no interest in holding onto our bags.  Fortunately the Hilton people brought 2 mini vans and with a bit of engineering everything got loaded.

Out of the airport I finally got the first taste of India, and it tasted like smoke.  Despite being 11 PM there were people everywhere and the constant din of horns honking.  I'll do a whole article someday on cars and driving but the shrill little 'beep' that every rickshaw and bike uses to signal all manner information is the soundtrack for this trip.  The Hilton was super nice and as with everywhere we've been in India, the service was totally over the top fawning by 3-4 people at all times.  Security is very tight, they checked our cars throughout when we came in the barred front gate and all our hand luggage went through an x-ray machine.  Surprisingly there were Christmas decorations including giant snowmen in the lobby and a snack shop decorated as Santa's workshop selling gingerbread and paneer panini.  The room was great and we all loved the shower room walled in with glass that faces in toward the bedroom.  Curtains are there for modesty but its odd and we agreed it must be setup this way to allow someone to watch TV while shampooing.  I also loved the 'magic' button on the phone.

Donut Wallah or the Trip Begins

 Up at 3:45 I packed the truck with 6 suitcases averaging 47 pounds each, 2 moving boxes tied with Dilip’s special knots and filled with gifts and wedding stuff, 3 carry on suitcases, 4 backpacks and 4 x 2.5 lb trays of Costco baklava Jackson had wrapped up in a bag and tied off with para cord to make a sort of hammock style carrier.  Luckily I still have my gold status with American so we got to shortcut a few lines along the way.  The lady next to us was shipping either a small camel or a large dog in a kennel big enough to park a motorcycle.  The old man in front of me turned to the old lady with him and said ‘I can’t believe  she is putting her kid in there’ to which she responded with a medium length tirade about how unsafe and scary that would be for the kid.  I think I understood them to be siblings and from the deadpan delivery I guessed this was not the first time the brother had wound up the sis, either she was playing along perfectly or was very dense and he never delivered the punch line.

A bit of breakfast in the terminal and then the 6:45 flight to Chicago was very unremarkable.  TinaB had been working nearly round the clock for the last 2 weeks to get all her paperwork in for school and the night before we left she worked the whole night through.  She passed out for the vast majority of the flight.  The kids were tired and did sleep some but were so jacked with adrenaline that it took a while before they zonked out.  I never sleep on planes.  It’s a curse to be both tall and unable to turn off one’s brain in the necessary way to suspend disbelief that somehow 2 small engines can produce enough force to keep driving this huge machine full of meat and gear through the air.  I have always believed that it is my will alone keeping us flying and so to sleep would be totally irresponsible.  This of course does not bode well for the long flight coming up.

Knowing we would be in Chicago for 8 hours, the AA Admiral’s Club (link) was an easy decision so we could have some quiet and a little more comfortable place to recline.  A few annoying guys on phones but mostly quiet and we had fun playing board games and eating.  T had our Christmas cards done so we put together an assembly line to stuff, address, stamp  and seal them to be sent from the little mailbox dropbox in the terminal.  During the morning me and the kids wandered up to the food court to get coffee and donuts at the Dunkin shop.  The guy behind the counter was a Patel and had this little sing song Gujarati/English thing going where he would confirm your order and try to upsell everything.  He sang us a song that ended with me getting a free glazed in the bag with a wink and the wobbly head (link, link = about the 11 second mark you'll see 2 of them going together) that means…well….something or nothing, definitely that or maybe.

India for me started at the gate to board the plane, I had several people smelling like body odor and odd spice mixes start the kind of vague pushing and personal-space-crowding in line that I keep telling myself isn’t rude, just Indian. 

India - Mysteries of Elimination

I thank this guy for posting pictures of an element of this trip that has me mildly freaked out and makes Soph threaten bodily harm.  I have so, so many questions.  Among them: do men squat to pee? does one take off all one's clothes so as to avoid any kind of blowback/overspray situation from the provided (I hope) hose? does one bring one's own soap, towel and hand sani w/ one each time? I don't want to know but isn't there a whole female hygenie realm complicated by this system? How do old people w/ lack of quad strength deal with this?

I'm not going to link but there are lots of internet-loud arguments about the advantage of the rinse and wash vs. wipe systems.  I guess I'll soon be able to decide for myself.  Remember not to shake my hand for a while, k?

http://www.pbase.com/jtodhunter/indian_toilet

India - Interstitial

2 weeks until we leave and we are on schedule for most of the planning stuff.  Christmas gifts are pretty well finished, still not sure how we are going to get everything over there with us but it'll work out.    

There is a about a week between the weddings and so I've put together a little side trip to see some of the touristy spots.  Tina's been to all these places and a part of me didn't want to see the Taj Mahal fearing that it would just be like seeing it in a picture but Jackson wisely pointed out that its a little crazy to go to India and not see 1 of the Wonders of the World so we are going.  

This is what I'm thinking so far.

Good site with train info for US/UK types:
http://www.seat61.com/India.htm

Tuesday 12/28 (evening?)

Leave Vadodara for Jaipur by train

12-16 hours, some of the boarding times are at odd hours of the morning but all would include sleeping on the train.  We definitely want to take a train at some point, its something the kids have never really done.

Train:
http://www.cleartrip.com/trains/results?from_city=Vadodara&to_city=Jaipur&class=2A&date=28-12-2010&adults=2&children=2&male_seniors=0&female_seniors=0

Wednesday 12/29

arrive Jaipur, check into hotel etc

some hotels I'm looking at: http://goindia.about.com/od/wheretostay/ss/palace-hotels_2.htm

3 nights, the normal sightseeing stuff and something with elephants

Thursday 12/30 play in Jaipur

Friday 12/31 play in Jaipur and New Years

Saturday 1/1 Train to Agra

Train is 4-6 hours sleep in Agra

http://www.cleartrip.com/trains/results?from_city=Jaipur&to_city=Agra&class=2A&date=1-1-2011&adults=2&children=2&male_seniors=0&female_seniors=0

Hotels:
http://goindia.about.com/od/citie1/tp/top-5-agra-accommodations.htm

Sunday 1/2 Taj , Train to Delhi Fly home

We might extend this a bit, but from what I've read Agra can mostly be seen in a day.

India - Ensure Your Luggage Will Fit

As I post this we are now at 16 days, 16 hours and 16 minutes until our plan leaves Tucson and we are getting very close to ready I think.  The Visas are done and the passports are now back.  I've gotten some money and travelers cheques (an antiquated spelling for an antiquated product)

We have arranged for a guy w/ a sign that will pick us up in Delhi to take us to the Hilton where we have a quick overnight.   The Hilton lady said we could rent a car w/ driver the next day to do a few laps around Delhi.

Luggage is a minor controversy.  We fly American to Delhi and then switch to Jet Airways for the flight the next day and found out that the 8 (!) 50# suitcases we are checking can be left with Jet Airways the night before once we clear customs.  I was worried about having to haul them to the hotel and back along with all our carry-ons but there is happily a system in place for this.  On the topic of 8 suitcases, we are trying to do the family a solid and volunteered to bring some stuff over.  Tina's pop has taken the opportunity to claim 3 of our 8 bags.  We are still in negotiations on this point.  To do some planning I had J and T do a prospective clothing dump so I could weigh it out.  50# is the max I get free for each bag (thanks for the status AA) and we plan to use it all.  J's clothes weighed in at 22#, Sophia's a bit less and Tina's and mine at just under 50# each.  This doesn't include gifts or toiletries which aren't heavy but take up tons of room.  The net of it is I'm projecting 3.5 suitcases for clothes, 2 for toiletries + gifts and 2 for the family tax with a bit of leftover.  So far her pops has delivered 1 full suitcase plus odds/ends and promises 2 more full boxes.  I keep telling him '2 boxes totalling 100#s', we'll see.

India - No running off to Mexico for a while

A Visa is required for Americans visiting India.  It's all the paperwork you'd expect including an application form to which is attached (oddly required to use glue) 2 passport type photos, copy of drivers license, copy of birth certificate, all along with the ACTUAL US passport.  They say they'll send it back in 7-9 days, lets hope so.   Because T's dad and by extension the kids granddad is originally from there we also had to provide her Dad's naturalization paperwork and her birth certificate proving they are all related.

The whole thing is handled through a company called Travisa that does some kind of middleman role I don't fully understand.  Again, I just hope they send me back my passport in the near future so I can leave the country if I decide to rob a bank or such.

India - Just a dash of virus please

Immunization is a probability game right?  I personally believe that I'm invincible so none of it is really necessary but if I were to get scabby-ebola-typhus it would be in India right?  Planning to go somewhere where the microbiology will actively try to kill you requires some prudence.  The kids it seems are routinely given sufficient vaccination now that they only have to take some typhus and malaria pills close to when we go.  No shots was a big selling point for them.  T just had a couple on account-a she's been before (and plus she must have some like racial defense right?).

I've had to get the Hepatitis A and B (B was a series of 2 so that was awesome) and Tetanus (that bastard hurt for a week, I think it had actual flakes of rusty metal in there).  Getting Polio on Friday and we take the typhus and malaria tablets closer to go time.

45 days to go, its coming fast.

India - What to Wear

So we don't have the formal invite yet but did get a hilarious email inviting us to what sounds like several weeks of awesome.  The table below is very intriguing to me for many reasons but not least because I have not been to an Ascot Goat Race, much less in a tuxedo.

India - Travel Data

We have been hovering over buying the tickets for a while and looking at all the angles.  The complexity of the trip is a function that looks like C = (HxTxB)^S where C=complexity, H=Humans x 9.73 (the universal constant of how much more work it takes going places with people), T=Total trip hours, B=# of bags, carry on and check and S= # of stops.  So the math tells us to change plans as little as possible and leave 1 of the kids at home (sorry JB). 

We settled on the itinerary below.  Outbound its as good as we can make it, returning we just could not get straight to Delhi without making things way more expensive so we'll have to cope.

• The Chicago to Delhi flight is the longest AA has, and I wonder if its the longest ever.  15 hours in the plane is pretty remarkable. 
•  We have an overnight in Delhi and I found a Hilton nearby.  I wonder about handling all of the bags during this portion but in any case we may get a chance to see a bit of Delhi in the morning.
• I have never heard of Jet Airways and I can't help but think of this
  
• 8 hours in Bombay airport with a ton of bags will suck, nothing to be done about it
• The return flight is a little longer from Delhi to Chicago, anything over 14 hours I guess is a wash

Outbound:
   
Tucson to Chicago

	Carrier Flight Number Departing Arriving Aircraft Type City Date & Time City Date & Time AMERICAN AIRLINES 374 TUS Tucson Dec 16, 2010 06:50 AM ORD Chicago Dec 16, 2010 11:15 AM McDonnell Douglas Super MD-80(S80)
	Travel Time:  3 hrs 25 min  ~ 1450 miles Economy Class Meal:   Food for purchase

Chicago to Delhi

Carrier Flight Number Departing Arriving Aircraft Type City Date & Time City Date & Time AMERICAN AIRLINES 292 ORD Chicago Dec 16, 2010 07:35 PM DEL Delhi Dec 17, 2010 09:45 PM Boeing 777(777)
	Travel Time:  14 hrs 40 min ~7500 miles Economy Class Meal:   Dinner  Breakfast

Delhi to Vadodara

Carrier Flight Number Departing Arriving Aircraft Type City Date & Time City Date & Time JET AIRWAYS OPERATED BY JET AIRWAYS KONNECT 2601 DEL Delhi Dec 18, 2010 05:25 PM BDQ Vadodara Dec 18, 2010 07:40 PM Aerospatiale/Alenia ATR72(AT7)
	Travel Time:  2 hrs 15 min ~500 miles Economy Class Meal:   Beverage service.

Return:

Vadodara to Bombay

Carrier Flight Number Departing Arriving Aircraft Type City Date & Time City Date & Time JET AIRWAYS OPERATED BY JET AIRWAYS KONNECT 2006 BDQ Vadodara Jan 09, 2011 11:15 AM BOM Mumbai Jan 09, 2011 12:10 PM Boeing 737-800 Passenger(738)
	Travel Time:  0 hrs 55 min ~250 miles Economy Class Meal:   Beverage service.

Bombay to Delhi

Carrier Flight Number Departing Arriving Aircraft Type City Date & Time City Date & Time AMERICAN AIRLINES OPERATED BY JET AIRWAYS 7839 BOM Mumbai Jan 09, 2011 08:05 PM DEL Delhi Jan 09, 2011 10:05 PM Boeing 737-900 Passenger(739)
	Travel Time:  2 hrs 0 min ~750 miles Economy Class Meal:   Beverage service.

Delhi to Chicago

Carrier Flight Number Departing Arriving Aircraft Type City Date & Time City Date & Time AMERICAN AIRLINES 293 DEL Delhi Jan 10, 2011 12:55 AM ORD Chicago Jan 10, 2011 05:00 AM Boeing 777(777)
	Travel Time:  15 hrs 35 min ~7500 miles Economy Class Meal:   Breakfast  Snack or brunch

Chicago to Tucson

Carrier Flight Number Departing Arriving Aircraft Type City Date & Time City Date & Time AMERICAN AIRLINES 1637 ORD Chicago Jan 10, 2011 09:25 AM TUS Tucson Jan 10, 2011 12:20 PM McDonnell Douglas Super MD-80(S80)
	Travel Time:  3 hrs 55 min ~1400 miles Economy Class Meal:   Food for purchase

India - Step 0

I've never been and it's time to go.  Tina's oldest cousin in Vadodara (aka Baroda) has 2 kids getting married over Christmas break and we've decided now is the time to make the big trip.  Me, T and the kids (7 and 11) will be flying a little under 20,000 total miles, celebrating Christmas, 2 weddings, New Year, J's birthday and our 2 anniversaries over the span of 26 days from 12/17 to 1/10. 

It seems far off now but starting up the lists of shots and clothes and packing logistics tells me that we need to get thing moving.  My plan is to chronicle all of it here (including the trip of course) and to use this as a forum to complain about things and offer observations on the process. 

Know 2 things:  I am mildly terrified/super excited about this trip and I can say whatever I want here cause T doesn't read it.  Boobs.

Infinite Summer - Uncountable

Obviously I gave up on the blog posts viz. the reading. It was easy on the days that I was reading near a computer but this time through I've been reading on the Iphone Kindle and the bookmarks feature is 'ok' but frankly not great so I've resorted to some brief notes in the notes app marking the kindle location and some nonsense words. The notes are obvioulsy just for me.

I wonder how old you need to be to read the book, I think I am about the same age now as DFW was when he wrote the book and while I don't think there is a mid-life crisis as such there is a sense of grown-upness, maturity and seriousness about what things mean and what is important.

I have read alot of books and this is one of the very few book that affected me, literally spoke to me directly. In a way that is almost uncomfortable but so fantastically good, I honestly can't talk all that much about it.


The remaining notes.

7385

Marathe on USA vulnerable, ashamed re: belief

Gaudemeus Igatur

"How do trite things get to be trite? The truth is not just un but anti interesting"

8596 She wanted only tall cold bottles that spoke of proof

8726 special children's second world of chairlegs and tile that exists under long tablecloths
8833. Lamont chu and fame "The truth will set you free. But not until is is finished with you."

8839 escape from a cage requires awareness of cage

Post storm sad

8851 Lyle tells Blott not to let the weight he would pull to himself exceed his own personal weight.

8867 warm and close

10119 Old fish asking young fish how's the water

10142 Vapider the cliche the sharper canines of truth

He has that rare spinal appreciation for beauty.....those without native words

11319 my fathers mood filled a room

11470 ubrippable fabric

You are what you walk between

14961 clattering bleachers

We are more perceptive re: our lovers family than our own

25171 hot showers and toilets

25317 16s are strange

25493 endnote 337 hamlet graveyard scene

19450 Radiated vulnerability

20400 Black Nurses