All Set!

Well it's just a few more hours and we'll be boarding Air Chance France. Go figure, online check-in is down.

At this very moment, part of me wants to wring Sam's neck. You'd think an Indian would be quite intimately knowledgeable of the Fifth season (Monsoon) and plan their wedding outside that period. I called him out on it. Apparently he wants to do the wedding Bollywood style, where we can all run out and splash around in the rain.

 Mumbai Rain. Jaipur Rain. Delhi Rain. Darjeeling Rain.

Damnit. That weather map is not changing.

Rain. Scrap that. Thunderstorms. Did Irene take a wrong turn somewhere?

On the plus side, I've stocked up on Malarone. You pay a pretty dollar for them, but then, you don't get the suicidal/hallucinatory effects of other drugs. Or in my case, I got them for free. Wait.. Hallucinatory? :) Did I pick the wrong pills?

We'll be stopping over in Paris. I suppose if I can't go to Paris, spending a few hours in CDG is the next best thing.

The next post will be from Mumbai.

The Whining Post

I am so stressed. Work has hit me like an Indian Monsoon. So many tiny details to finish taking care of for the trip:

• Take my suit to the laundry
• Get medication prescription
• Pack
• Tidy my place
• Social Obligations
• Work
• Work
• Work

Speaking of the Monsoon. This picture had better change, and it had better change fast, and I mean FAST! (What pray tell is a "Light Thunderstorm" anyways???)

The Gods, Rama, Vishnu, Allah had better take note. Ghada and I survived this yesterday, on our way coming back from picking up her Sari. We will not be fazed by Lightning.

But please, and I mean please, do clear up those skies, just for 3 days!

Rama's Journey

Well I thought this would be a worthy time to post this. Another Hats off is due to my buddy Ziggy who suggested I watch Sita Sings the Blues.

What better way to have a crash course on the Ramayana while listening to Jazzy blues. I'll have a whole plane ride with Ghada so she can explain to me the bits about the Re-incarnation (Lakshmi = Sita), (Rama = Vishnu), (Hanuman = Shiva), (Ghada = Arjumand Banu Begum).
  
In many ways, is this journey not somewhat like Rama's journey, his trials and tribulations with Sita? Will Ghada be devoted and dedicated during this trip. Will she walk on fire? Or will she be "Me Me Me"ing throughout the trip? 

My first...

...Kiss? No. My first sari. It's beautiful. Green with golden and red flower embroideries. When Samir, the groom, asked me what color I wanted it to be, I hesitated. Red maybe? No you can't, he said. It is bad luck. The bride wears red. White? not an option either. Dark green it was. The bride and the groom to be, graciously found time amidst their crazy busy schedule and traveled all the way from the UAE to India to get me my special sari. Yes, just for that. Well at least I'd like to think they did. After back and forth bbm messaging, my heart was set on one, yet still remained, before it lands over my shoulder how will this silken beauty fly to me?

I stormed out of the grocery store when Samir messaged me again. His friend had just checked in at the hotel and was waiting for me to pick up the sari. Sam's friend Lynn was a stewardess, and she was stopping over in Toronto for two days. She was also carrying my sari.

You have to meet her at her hotel, said Samir. I will get there somehow just send me the name, I texted back. But it was too easy, surely it was meant to be. My sari was meeting me at the Courtyard by Marriott just across from my appartment building.

I felt like I was being mummified as she wrapped and wrapped 6 yards of sari around me. Lynn explained that I will definitely need someone to help me when the time was right. She continued with a series of folds and wraps et voila!

But the Bengali tailor or the cocoon, to whom I entrusted my caterpillar, begged to differ. To him, I was no better than an indo-canadian girl who knows nothing about self-wrapping and he would be treating me like one. He promised a sari like a mature butterfly, a sari ready to fly. All wrapped up and all I needed to do was hook it up. A sari with a shortcut.

Five Star (or Six or Seven)

Trip planning has somewhat stalled. I've been busy. Ghada's been busy. Let's hope none of this limited time inadvertently turns into a "Workation". Ghada is dragging her laptop with her, and how can I complain either way, how else are we to post updates?

Not all has stalled. Here's what we've been up to:

• We got some shots. Not shots of Vodka. The medical shots. Tetanus. Diph-something-or-another. Polio because it comes with the same shot. And Typhoid. Typhoid. What the hell is Typhoid? A reminder that I'll be eating lots of S%$t, literally, in India?
• Ghada's taken her new "Sari" to some chappette operating out of house in Mississauga to stich. Ghada wants to go to the wedding in style.
• Streamlining the itinerary. Though nothing of course has been booked.

So we're cutting Khajuraho out of the trip. Which isn't sitting very well with me. But then again, neither did the prospect of this long drive.

We've decided also to extend our time in the mountains so that we're there 3 full days. There's some bonus to that. It is monsoon, which should be winding down, but you never know when that horrible day of rain will be. Also, with this extended time, should it rain, we can always go further up or further North, and beat those rain clouds at their own game. Yes, we can always go higher!

The other issue is the hotel business. Living in a city full of Indians (Toronto), typically means a few things:

1.  They are not India's paupers
2.  They are not India's paupers, and
3.  They are not India's paupers

... and so, no-one's pitched yet the idea that Ghada and I ought to rough it out in one of the Slum district. Which may not be such a bad idea. I didn't put up with a swollen arm for 2 days only to crawl into one of Ghada's test tubes.

 

Still there is a spectrum of choices. And this colleaugue of mine who coincidentally hails from Jaipur gave me a cheeky smile and said that perhaps, if I wanted to live it up while I am in Jaipur, I should stay at the Rambagh Palace.

 

Price 22000 Indian Rupees. 22000 Indian Rupees!

 

If this were Lebanese Liras, we'd be talking $22. I'd spend the entire vacation there.

 

But it's Rupees!

 

At that price, I expect my man servants to fetch Holy Water, on foot, from the heights of some Uttrakhand mountain peak, preferably one that feeds the Ganga, and long before the waters reach the Paesanos of Varanasi. With Aishwarya Rai bathing me, no less!

 

But nothing positively irks me more that those who say, "Well I would stay in the Rambagh, but for you, just don't settle for less than *fill in appropriate hotel*".

 

Is the Garbz not worthy of a night at the Rambagh? Even if it means he should fall into perpetual debt!

 

Perhaps we should start a money collection service on this blogsite. A paypal system where concerned friends contribute to our comfortable stay in the wilderness of India!

 

 

 

 

An Aaaaargh turns into a Woooo-Hoooooo (in principle... Fingers Crossed)

I have been "suffocating" at the thought of planning this trip. It has been infuriating. It has been maddening.

There's a lot we could see. And even then, we are not being that demanding. Really, we're not.

Anyways. It is not the thought of traveling with Ghada that's got me all choked up :). It is the fact that it is near impossible to put together a viable plan. Travel Times. Constraints on Flights. The Drive.

The thought of the drive has me sick to my stomach. Hot, Muggy India. I felt sick, and I hadn't drank the water yet!


It's time for a spreadsheet.

Total Travel Time: 33 hours. 33 Effing Hours. We're only there for a week, and we're spending this inordinate amount of time just commuting.

It's time for a re-think.

We've:

• Shaved off 7 hours of drive time
• Need only 1-2 days of a hired taxi 
• Lots of time to spare in all said cities. 

Things are beginning to shape up.