It has taken me two months to post the five photographs below and hopefully to be able to recollect a few highlights from my May trip to the Baltics. As always, Susie is a great travel companion and adds to my wonder and enjoyment seeing the world.
Obviously, one of the highlights of the trip was meeting Lene Thorbjornsen Andersen-Gott in Copenhagen. Forty one years evaporated instantly and we chatted as if we had seen each other the week before. We were suppose to meet at the main entrance of Tivoli, but literally ran into Lene and her friend as we were getting off a bus. Lene looked just like she did the last time I saw her in 1969 at her parent's home in Oslo. Trond Forshaug and I went there to visit Lene and to meet her husband Leif.
Susie, Lene and I had coffee at a Tivoli cafe and enjoyed the warm, sunny Saturday talking like three school girls. Susie stayed with us for awhile and afterwards Lene and I continued talking through the afternoon into the late evening. Before meeting Lene, Susie and I went to Christiana or "Free Town. a 85 acre During the early 70's a group of hippy-types took over an abandoned Danish military garrison just a few metro stops from the center of Copenhagen. Since that time, it has enjoyed a special arrangement with the Danish government, where the inhabitants govern themselves, where hard drugs are illegal, but where pot and hash are used and sold openly. The authorities in Copenhagen have been at odds with the residents of Christiana and would like to see it vacated; the land is much too valuable, the residents do not pay taxes. going into Christiana. I'm sure you can all imagine how conspicuous we must have looked: two middle age, white haired Americans. In August of 1969 Susie and I were in Copenhagen and the city center has not changed much since that point in time. "The Stroget", the long pedestrian street in the city center filled with shoppers and tourist is still as crowded as it was then and at noon each day the Palace Guards. in their blue ceremonial uniforms. march through the streets. The harbor, across the roundabout from The Storget is a busy with canal boat tour operators trying to lure the tourist who are enjoying a good time eating and drinking at the cafes along the water front. The Little Mermaid, who recently returned from being on exhibition in China was back on her permanent rock in a water front park. Bicycles were everywhere and of course Tivoli Gardens filled with music, food, beautiful spring flowers, amusements and fun....some things never change!
The Metro system is excellent and we used our all-day passes on the train, bus as well as the metro. Considering that Copenhagen is one of the world's most expensive cities, it is one of the few bargains and the most efficient way to get around the city. .
BERLIN
We arrived in Warnemunde, Germany and drove for four hours to Berlin. Warnemunde is the port for the old Hanseatic town of Rostock. During the cold war it was located in East Germany.
Not wanting to miss seeing as much of Berlin as possible in one day, it is safe to say we saw a lot but, at the same time saw very little. Berlin is a city of 3.4 million people and Germany's largest city. It is nine times bigger than Paris. It enjoys a temperate seasonal climate and a third of the city is forest/parks/gardens/rivers and lakes. It has been a capitol city since the 13th century. First to the Kingdom of Prussia, then to the German Empire, Weimar Republic, the Third Reich, Divided after WWII into East and West Berlin and in 1990 with reunification it became the capitol of Germany. That is a lot of history to try and absorb in eight hours.
TALLINN, ESTONIA
Susie was in Tallin, Estonia a few years after the collapse of the Soviet and it's re-establishment as a democratic independent country in 1991. In 2004 it became a member of the European Union. When Susie was last in Tallinn, the city (and all of Estonia), was economically depressed and the infra-structure of the roads, buildings and port was very poor. The port has been re-built obviously to accommodate cruise ships which has helped make tourism a vital part of their economy. Susie and I would like to suggest to the local authorities that second to a new port they should have a national campaign called DON'T RIP OFF THE TOURIST. We had (and later found out we were not alone) a bad experience with a cab driver and as a result of that Tallin will be associated with negativity. The old city is a labyrinth of winding, narrow streets nice for walking and especially good for getting lost. Not a lot of English is spoken, a fact we experienced first hand trying to find our way out of the old city (even with a map and compass we were hopelessly lost). The old city is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and has been a port for trade between Russia and Scandinavia since the Middle Ages.
Once again, we had unseasonably warm and sunny weather and after viewing the few open old churches, walking the old city and getting lost we found the best way to enjoy Tallin was to sit at a cafe and enjoy their wine!
ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA
This was what I came on this trip for and I was not at all disappointed. St. Petersburg enjoys on average only 30 days of sun A YEAR and we had three gloriously warm and sunny days.
St. Petersburg has also built a new seaport since Susie's last visit and she continually remarked at the improvement in the roads and the condition of the buildings. One guide even "apologized" for the condition of the streets: saying St. Petersburg is a northerly city with a long, cold and snowy winter and the roads hadn't been completely repaired since it was still early spring. That was one of the funniest things I heard considering I'm from Chicago. The streets in St. Petersburg are in far better condition than those in Chicago! Note to the newly elected Mayor Emmanuel of Chicago...fix those pot holes!!
We drove to Catherine's Summer Palace outside of St. Petersburg in the town of Pushkin. Pushkin is about 15 miles outside of St. Petersburg, but the drive took approximately an hour because of the traffic congestion. Cars are everywhere and generally they are all late model Mercedes, BMW's, and varying Toyota models. The highway was excellent. Huge western-style shopping centers with big movie theaters, restaurants (many U.S. fast food chain franchises) were newly built or in the process of being built along this road filled with new home and apartment developments. I'm sure that once you get into the Russian countryside you do not see this kind of prosperous development but in the greater St.Petersburg area you do. Catherine's Summer Palace was a bold architectural monument to the Baroque style. In all it's glory it is a perfect example of the boundless wealth of the Russian Tsars and caused Susie to comment "no wonder they had a revolution!".
The Hermitage, originally built as a palace for the Russian Tsars is located along the banks of the Neva River. The Hermitage, which was known as the Winter Palace grew into what is now considered the world's most expansive and famous art museum. The beginning of The Hermitage's treasures is credited to Catherine The Great purchasing a collection of 255 works of art. The interior of the building is grand....I could imagine music playing, women dressed in silk and jewels traversing the grand marble staircases and the gilded halls. Now those hallways are filled with tourist, school children, serious student's of art and Russian's wanting to get a glimpse of the interior (a work of art in itself) and to see the massive collection of fine art on display. I was not able to see the Dega painting "Place de la Concorde". It had been lost four four decades following WWII and it seems as if the Russian's have lost it again......my guide could not find it, nor could anyone else!
Because St. Petersburg is located so far north it enjoys nineteen hours of daylight during late May through late July. Evenings are called "WHITE NIGHTS". We got to experience the White Night first hand returning from an evening performance of Russian music and dance.
Gosh, there is so much to say about St. Petersburg....it did not disappoint me int he least and as a matter of fact it far surpassed what I thought I was going to experience. I was impressed with the effort the government has put into restoring the city and it's historical sites and to preserving their cultural and historic history.
HELSINKI
Our good weather ended when he arrived in Helsinki. Away went the sun glasses and out came the rain wear and umbrellas. Nevertheless, we enjoyed a busy day (again using public transportation) seeing the sites in downtown Helsinki.
When my sister-in-law was living in Moscow a trip "out" of the USSR often was to Helsinki and here she (and sometimes Bob and the kids,if the were with her) could enjoy the freedom of being in the "west". She always had a long, long shopping list and headed to Stockmam's Department Store. I too went to Stockman's, not to purchase anything but to see this place that Liz had often talked about.
STOCKHOLM
In 1962, Susie and I were in Stockholm with our parent's and younger sister, Vicki. One of the memories Susie and I both had of Stockholm was our Father buying us our first pair of wooden Swedish clogs. For whatever reason, all three of us had blisters and complained that we couldn't walk in our shoes. Perhaps our complaining was a planned conspiracy; I know we all wanted a pair and Daddy was our "soft touch". Both of us also remembered going to see the movie THE WINDJAMMER because it was raining so hard (again the three of us were probably complaining!).
I remembered the King's Palace and Gamla Stan (the Old City, the bridges and islands (Stockholm is often called the Venice of the North). What I didn't remember, or what this sixteen year was in incapable of appreciating , was how pretty Stockholm is. It dates back to 1250 and the Stockholm archipelago consist of fourteen islands. The city is made up of 30% parks and green space, 30% city (commercial and residential) and 40% waterways. It clean, friendly, modern yet old, energetic and expensive!
Saturday, July 16, 2011
St. Petersburg, Russia
Susie with The Church of Our Savior on the Spilled Blood in the background. The architectural style of this beautiful church differs from most of St. Petersburg's Baroque and Neo-classical style was built in 1883 to resemble the Romantic-Nationalism style of St. Basil's Cathedral in Moscow. The bridge is over the Griboedov Canal.
The Reunion
Tivoli Gardens, Copenhagen
Lene Thorbjornsen Andersen-Gott and Karen seeing each other after thirty two years.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Scroll Down .. I made a mistake.
I've already made a mistake and I'm not sure how but I am definately sure I don't know how to correct it...........SO, scroll down past the Royal Wedding and Susie on the Chicago River to begin the May 5, 2011 blog.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
The Hermitage
The Hermitage, the Baroque-style palace of the Tsars, known as the Winter Palace is located on the banks of the Neva River. Catherine The Great purchased a collection of 255 painting in 1764 and founded what has become one of the world's most expansive and famous art museums.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Royal Wedding
This group of ladies, dressed in nighties and wedding hats might not have been in Westminster Abbey this morning, but we did gather at 4:30 a.m. to witness the Royal Wedding of H.R.H. Prince William of England and his bride, Catherine Middleton. Being present at the marriage of the future King and Queen of England is not on my bucket list but sharing life with good friend's is and again I am blessed with the opportunity to do just that.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Off to Copenhagen and points beyond..........
Yes, this photo is of Susie and myself, taken in July 1969 on top of the ferris wheel in Tivoli Gardens, Copenhagen. It might appear that Susie has a "lazy tongue" which she does not. We were on the ride with Susie's St. Olaf roommate, Nancy, and a friend of Nancy's from Germany, Ute. The operator of the ride let us stay on the ride for almost an hour and Susie used this photo-op to pretend as if she was sick. (Truth be told, after all that time we were all feeling a bit squemish). Forty two years have passed and Susie and I are once again going to Copenhagen....I don't know if we will attempt to recreate too many of the old experiences.....that you will just have to wonder about!
We are in Copenhagen for a few days of nostalgia before we embark on a Baltic cruise. This cruise was particularly interesting to me because it will enable me to cross off another line on my bucket list. One entry on the list is to visit the great art museums of the world. THE HERMITAGE, in St. Petersburg, Russia, is one of the world's art museums I have always wanted to see. Granted, I will only be able to see a fraction of it, I have only two days. It is one of the world's largest and diverse art museums with a collection of approximately 2.7 million items. I have been told that if you were to see all the items in The Hermitage it will take you eleven years. I have a tour ticket for The Gold Room, which Liz Ober (Liz, Bob and their children lived in what was then the USSR for seven year's during the cold war and frequented The Hermitage when they were in what was then called Lenningrad, now St. Petersburg). I also hope to see Holly Clayson's favorite painting, Degas',Vicomte Lepic and His Daughters Crossing the Place de la Concorde.
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At 3:00 p.m. on Saturday afternoon, May 7th, Susie and I will be meeting a friend of fifty one year's, Lene Thorbjornsen Andersen-Gott, at the main gate of the Tivoli Gardens. Lene is my Norwegian friend who is coming from her home in Vagamo, Norway (near Lillihammer) to visit with Susie and I. The first time I met Lene in person was in 1962. She was standing at the pier in Oslo, Norway with flowers in one hand and a sign in the other. The sign said "Karen, Here I am, Lene". I was on the docking ship with my parent's, Susie and Vicki. Jimmy had binoculars and spotted Lene on the pier....it was all very exciting. I vaguely remember a old slide my Father had taken of Lene that day, I wish I had known what happened to it. I don't think either of us will need a sign announcing who we are on Saturday. We have seen each other since that day and exchange photos of ourselves and families.
This should be an interesting trip.....kind of reminiscent of the Chevy Chase movie, IF IT'S TUESDAY IT MUST BE BELGIUM. We have a busy schedule and in the next thirteen days we will be in Copenhagen, Berlin, Riva, St. Petersburg, Helsinki and Stockholm. The opportunity to see Lene again and to visit the Hermitage will make this whirlwind worth while. We have a non-stop SAS flight to Copenhagen leaving tonight at 10 p.m. The flight is almost nine hours long and given my the fact I'm up hours past my usual bedtime, I should sleep like a baby.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
My Kind of Town............
Someone much younger, but MUCH wiser than myself recently said "the greatest success comes not from standing on the summit but from rising to meet it". That is so true and with that said, yesterday, Saturday, October 9, 2010, I crossed off another "to do" on my bucket list. My list is not organized by what I want to do first, priorities, or by importance; but as my wise soul has reminded me I need to start rising to the summit.
My sister, Susie, was in town from Raleigh, North Carolina this weekend and before her arrival I tried to think of something different and fun we could do. I had thought about driving up north to Wisconsin to see the fall colors, staying in a Chicago hotel overnight (the Chicago Marathon took care of that idea with participant's occupying hotel space all over the city) and then on Friday; with a unseasonably warm weather forecast looming I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Susie agreed to it and on Saturday morning we drove into the city and I accomplished:
KAYAKING ON THE CHICAGO RIVER!
Instead of looking at the gold, crimson and orange colors of nature, we were humbled by looking up at steel, glass and concrete skyscrapers created by men who dared to dream. Being on the main branch of the Chicago River and looking up at those building's is something I always wanted to do; being propelled through the water by my own strength - alone- just me: the water and the city, I call home and love, will be an experience I will always covet.
We paddled south off the north branch of the river through what use to be a very industrial part of the river. That part of the river is now being transformed from industrial to residential/commerical. The quality of the once polluted water is improving to the point that wildlife (even beavers) and fish are returning. It was very quiet; you could hear birds chirping, ducks floated past us as well as a big barge being pushed by a tug loaded with stone, a crew of young, strong rowers as well as some kayaks.
As we started to approach the main branch of the river we could hear my favorite Chicago sound..." The L", weaving it's way through the loop, metal tracks hitting metal wheels and the cars rocking and swaying. When we were away from the L and the tour boats you could not hear all the hustle and bustle of the city above you. It was really very quiet and peaceful considering you were in the middle of city of how many million people??? On the main branch of the river were tour boats filled with tourist who would wave and take pictures of us as if we were part of the city's attraction's. Additional river traffic consisted of the water taxi's, some private pleasure boats and of course other kayaks.
Besides seeing the towering skyscrapers on both sides of you, you are paddling under the street's that are so synonymous with Chicago: Madison, Chicago, Kedzie, Michigan, Clark, LaSalle and on and on. Looking up and around the bridges provide you a perspective to appreciate their engineering accomplishment's as well as architectural beauty. Stopping along side the newest Chicago skyscraper, The Trump Tower, which is built on the river just a stone's throw east of Michigan Avenue, we could not see the top of the building which soared into the sky.
For those of you who are not from Chicago, the Chicago River probably has two claims to fame. One is, that in the 19th century civil engineer's were able to reverse the flow of the river to flow south, away from Lake Michigan therefore keeping sewage and waste out of the lake, which is the water source for Chicago. Secondly, the river is dyed green each St. Patrick's Day by the Plumber's Union. When I say it is dyed green, I mean GREEN. The Plumber's Union has guarded the secret of what they put in the river and will not share it with the public or any other municipalities. The Union sends out a power boat and throws out the dye into the water and immediately with great cheering from the Wanna-be Irish crowd along the banks of the river the water is green.
Susie and I spent three hours on the river and I can only hope that she enjoyed the experience as much as I did. I'm happy I got to share the day with her, like most of what we do in life, it is much nicer to be able to share happy, fun time's with people you like and love. Susie, I thank you for sharing yesterday with me. What next???? Let me see - there is The Amazon, The Nile and oh so many things on that list of mine. I better get busy trying to reach that summit.
If you are ever interested in this unique way to see, my beloved Chicago contact:
www.kayakchicago.com
A terrific young man and entrepreneur, Dave Olson is the owner. The telephone number is 630 336 7245
My sister, Susie, was in town from Raleigh, North Carolina this weekend and before her arrival I tried to think of something different and fun we could do. I had thought about driving up north to Wisconsin to see the fall colors, staying in a Chicago hotel overnight (the Chicago Marathon took care of that idea with participant's occupying hotel space all over the city) and then on Friday; with a unseasonably warm weather forecast looming I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Susie agreed to it and on Saturday morning we drove into the city and I accomplished:
KAYAKING ON THE CHICAGO RIVER!
Instead of looking at the gold, crimson and orange colors of nature, we were humbled by looking up at steel, glass and concrete skyscrapers created by men who dared to dream. Being on the main branch of the Chicago River and looking up at those building's is something I always wanted to do; being propelled through the water by my own strength - alone- just me: the water and the city, I call home and love, will be an experience I will always covet.
We paddled south off the north branch of the river through what use to be a very industrial part of the river. That part of the river is now being transformed from industrial to residential/commerical. The quality of the once polluted water is improving to the point that wildlife (even beavers) and fish are returning. It was very quiet; you could hear birds chirping, ducks floated past us as well as a big barge being pushed by a tug loaded with stone, a crew of young, strong rowers as well as some kayaks.
As we started to approach the main branch of the river we could hear my favorite Chicago sound..." The L", weaving it's way through the loop, metal tracks hitting metal wheels and the cars rocking and swaying. When we were away from the L and the tour boats you could not hear all the hustle and bustle of the city above you. It was really very quiet and peaceful considering you were in the middle of city of how many million people??? On the main branch of the river were tour boats filled with tourist who would wave and take pictures of us as if we were part of the city's attraction's. Additional river traffic consisted of the water taxi's, some private pleasure boats and of course other kayaks.
Besides seeing the towering skyscrapers on both sides of you, you are paddling under the street's that are so synonymous with Chicago: Madison, Chicago, Kedzie, Michigan, Clark, LaSalle and on and on. Looking up and around the bridges provide you a perspective to appreciate their engineering accomplishment's as well as architectural beauty. Stopping along side the newest Chicago skyscraper, The Trump Tower, which is built on the river just a stone's throw east of Michigan Avenue, we could not see the top of the building which soared into the sky.
For those of you who are not from Chicago, the Chicago River probably has two claims to fame. One is, that in the 19th century civil engineer's were able to reverse the flow of the river to flow south, away from Lake Michigan therefore keeping sewage and waste out of the lake, which is the water source for Chicago. Secondly, the river is dyed green each St. Patrick's Day by the Plumber's Union. When I say it is dyed green, I mean GREEN. The Plumber's Union has guarded the secret of what they put in the river and will not share it with the public or any other municipalities. The Union sends out a power boat and throws out the dye into the water and immediately with great cheering from the Wanna-be Irish crowd along the banks of the river the water is green.
Susie and I spent three hours on the river and I can only hope that she enjoyed the experience as much as I did. I'm happy I got to share the day with her, like most of what we do in life, it is much nicer to be able to share happy, fun time's with people you like and love. Susie, I thank you for sharing yesterday with me. What next???? Let me see - there is The Amazon, The Nile and oh so many things on that list of mine. I better get busy trying to reach that summit.
If you are ever interested in this unique way to see, my beloved Chicago contact:
www.kayakchicago.com
A terrific young man and entrepreneur, Dave Olson is the owner. The telephone number is 630 336 7245
Thursday, June 3, 2010
An Audience With the Successor to The Dalai Lama
I have been home for a few days and the more I reflect on my short time in India, the more I realize how fortunate I was that my travels were not with a tour group but with Doug and Kristen. Doug's knowledge of the country and his ability to arrange and organize our itinerary and travel plans seemed effortless on his part (and I assure you what seemed capricious and effortless took a lot of hard work and planning) and provided us with "out of the box" travel experience's.
Doug was aware of the fact THE KARMAPA was giving an audience/blessing at The Gyuto Monastic University in Dharmasala. The Karmapa, is a 24 year old monk, a refugee, a political hot potato, a ray of hope for all Tibetans and the Dalai Lama's hand-picked successor. The Dalai Lama has chosen this young lama to succeed his as a political leader and the face of Tibet after his death.
The three of us went to Dharmasala and after registering passports (D and K did not have their's with them, but Doug's Hindi impressed the Indian Police Security Head and he allowed them to get in line with the assembled group, mostly Asians who were waiting to present the ceremonial white scarf (Khata)as well as gifts ranging from cookies to envelopes containing money to the Karmapa. We had to check our cameras, go through metal detectors and oh yes.....got patted down again! The security of the Karmapa is provided by his own security people but also by the Indian government.
We individually presented our khata's; he in return gave them back to us, blessed us and also gave each of us a red string (my simple explanation - I am uncertain of the correct name) which is given as a symbol of strength and blessing, Tibetans believe once tied on to your wrist or neck it should not be removed until it wears itself thin and falls off your body. If you ever see photographs of Tibetans or even The Dalai Lama look at the wrist.....you will most likely see one or two of these strings.
If you are interested: The May 2010 Indian edition of GEO magazine has an excellent article about the New Face of Buddhism and the Karmapa.
Doug was aware of the fact THE KARMAPA was giving an audience/blessing at The Gyuto Monastic University in Dharmasala. The Karmapa, is a 24 year old monk, a refugee, a political hot potato, a ray of hope for all Tibetans and the Dalai Lama's hand-picked successor. The Dalai Lama has chosen this young lama to succeed his as a political leader and the face of Tibet after his death.
The three of us went to Dharmasala and after registering passports (D and K did not have their's with them, but Doug's Hindi impressed the Indian Police Security Head and he allowed them to get in line with the assembled group, mostly Asians who were waiting to present the ceremonial white scarf (Khata)as well as gifts ranging from cookies to envelopes containing money to the Karmapa. We had to check our cameras, go through metal detectors and oh yes.....got patted down again! The security of the Karmapa is provided by his own security people but also by the Indian government.
We individually presented our khata's; he in return gave them back to us, blessed us and also gave each of us a red string (my simple explanation - I am uncertain of the correct name) which is given as a symbol of strength and blessing, Tibetans believe once tied on to your wrist or neck it should not be removed until it wears itself thin and falls off your body. If you ever see photographs of Tibetans or even The Dalai Lama look at the wrist.....you will most likely see one or two of these strings.
If you are interested: The May 2010 Indian edition of GEO magazine has an excellent article about the New Face of Buddhism and the Karmapa.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Doug's thoughts
We are just twelve hours away from my mom's departure and although much more could still happen (this is India and as the locals say, "ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE"), I can begin to put some of the last two weeks into perspective. Kristen and I both were totally impressed with my mom and her ability to just let go and go with the ultra-chaotic flow of India (as I am sure you all know, not being in charge is not an easy thing for her to do). All in all, she was a real trooper. I jotted down some of our favorite "Karen/Mom" highlights from the trip. Here they are...
*On my mom's first day in India, she and I (Doug) decided to take the metro (New Delhi's newest subway system) from the heart of New Delhi's business district (CP) to our neighborhood hotel (Karol Bagh). The metro train was literally overflowing with people, so much so that the train doors wouldn't close because there were people hanging out of it. Well, my mom took my arm, and I put an elbow out and dug us a little niche in the middle where we spent the next fifteen minutes enjoying the ambience of far too many Indians' armpits in our faces.
*Earlier that same day, my mom and I were walking the long open strip between New Delhi's India Gate and the Rasthrapati Bhawan (Presidential Palace). The high that day was about 116 and despite the fact that she was jetlagged and overheating, my mom (being the ultra stubborn woman that you know she is) refused to stop walking and take a rickshaw to our next destination. Finally, her body began to cave in (her face was near purple at this point), but her mind still wouldn't and I literally had to tell her to sit down while I went and found a rickshaw. When we finally arrived at the National Museum, I remember sitting down to eat with her and thinking to myself: "Now I know where I get my stubborn behavior from..."
*A few days later, we were at the Attari-Wagah (India-Pakistan) border ceremony. In order to watch the closing of the border gates, you sit on these large concrete bleachers. Well, the weather that day was particularly hot (118 F) and our concrete seats were more like hot plates under the afternoon sun. After a few minutes of sitting, my mom suddenly stands up, takes her bottle of water and begins pouring it all over seat. Much to everyone's amusement (we were surrounded by mostly Indians and some Korean businessmen), she then preceded to plop her bottom back down on this big puddle. The Korean man next to her said, "What you doing? You going to get all wet!" She turned to him and said with all seriousness, "Do you want some? It feels great!" He looked at her as if he was crazy and all around us these Indian women were laughing hysterically. I slowly pulled my hat over my head, trying to act like I was alone...(for the record, the water trick didn't work and minutes later, my mom was complaining that the seat was too hot again, so I gave her my wallet to sit on.)
*There are monkeys just about everywhere in India and in Mcleod Ganj, the small hillstation in the Himalayas where Kristen and I live, there are more than usual. They can be a real nuisance at times, but most of the time they just do their thing and you do yours. But teaching this to my mom was a different story. One night after dinner, she, Kristen and I went to a nice ice cream shop that has a big balcony overlooking the main square. We chose a seat at the edge so we could get the best view. Minutes into our meal, this large monkey carrying a Chapati (Indian flat bread) in his hand began leisurely approaching my mom from behind her. The monkey was walking on the railing (which our table was propped up against) so I tried to give my mom some warning without scaring her. I said, "mom, don't freak out, but look to your left very slowly." She turned and almost threw her ice cream in the air. The monkey had no interest in us and walked right by. This sort of thing takes a while to get used to, and apparently my mom did get used to it, because yesterday at Agra's Red Fort, she actually posed for a photo next to some baby monkey's, which had I asked her to do that two weeks ago, she would have looked at me like I was crazy.
*Above the city of Leh in Ladakh (elevation 11,800 ft) is a large modern World Peace Stupa built by the Japanese Buddhist organization Nipponzon Myohoji. It is quite the climb to get the top of it (I'm not sure how many steps, but at least 700 or so) and my mom was intent on making it to the top in order to tie Buddhist prayer flags (lung ta) for her friends and family. As we were going up, Kristen and I both thought she might collapse, but again with her characteristic drive and stubbornness, she slowly, slowly, made it to the top. Shanti Stupa is over 14,000 ft, so for those you who don't know, she actually crossed another item off her bucket list (climbing a 14'er). The fact that she made it to the top of this craggy beast, is testament to her love and compassion for her friends. I could tell that she was doing this for her friends and family, whose names she wrote on the prayer flags the monk and I hoisted over the Tibetan plateau underneath us. We should all be thankful to have someone like her in our lives...
*I"m out of time here but there are many many more and these will have to wait for another day...
*On my mom's first day in India, she and I (Doug) decided to take the metro (New Delhi's newest subway system) from the heart of New Delhi's business district (CP) to our neighborhood hotel (Karol Bagh). The metro train was literally overflowing with people, so much so that the train doors wouldn't close because there were people hanging out of it. Well, my mom took my arm, and I put an elbow out and dug us a little niche in the middle where we spent the next fifteen minutes enjoying the ambience of far too many Indians' armpits in our faces.
*Earlier that same day, my mom and I were walking the long open strip between New Delhi's India Gate and the Rasthrapati Bhawan (Presidential Palace). The high that day was about 116 and despite the fact that she was jetlagged and overheating, my mom (being the ultra stubborn woman that you know she is) refused to stop walking and take a rickshaw to our next destination. Finally, her body began to cave in (her face was near purple at this point), but her mind still wouldn't and I literally had to tell her to sit down while I went and found a rickshaw. When we finally arrived at the National Museum, I remember sitting down to eat with her and thinking to myself: "Now I know where I get my stubborn behavior from..."
*A few days later, we were at the Attari-Wagah (India-Pakistan) border ceremony. In order to watch the closing of the border gates, you sit on these large concrete bleachers. Well, the weather that day was particularly hot (118 F) and our concrete seats were more like hot plates under the afternoon sun. After a few minutes of sitting, my mom suddenly stands up, takes her bottle of water and begins pouring it all over seat. Much to everyone's amusement (we were surrounded by mostly Indians and some Korean businessmen), she then preceded to plop her bottom back down on this big puddle. The Korean man next to her said, "What you doing? You going to get all wet!" She turned to him and said with all seriousness, "Do you want some? It feels great!" He looked at her as if he was crazy and all around us these Indian women were laughing hysterically. I slowly pulled my hat over my head, trying to act like I was alone...(for the record, the water trick didn't work and minutes later, my mom was complaining that the seat was too hot again, so I gave her my wallet to sit on.)
*There are monkeys just about everywhere in India and in Mcleod Ganj, the small hillstation in the Himalayas where Kristen and I live, there are more than usual. They can be a real nuisance at times, but most of the time they just do their thing and you do yours. But teaching this to my mom was a different story. One night after dinner, she, Kristen and I went to a nice ice cream shop that has a big balcony overlooking the main square. We chose a seat at the edge so we could get the best view. Minutes into our meal, this large monkey carrying a Chapati (Indian flat bread) in his hand began leisurely approaching my mom from behind her. The monkey was walking on the railing (which our table was propped up against) so I tried to give my mom some warning without scaring her. I said, "mom, don't freak out, but look to your left very slowly." She turned and almost threw her ice cream in the air. The monkey had no interest in us and walked right by. This sort of thing takes a while to get used to, and apparently my mom did get used to it, because yesterday at Agra's Red Fort, she actually posed for a photo next to some baby monkey's, which had I asked her to do that two weeks ago, she would have looked at me like I was crazy.
*Above the city of Leh in Ladakh (elevation 11,800 ft) is a large modern World Peace Stupa built by the Japanese Buddhist organization Nipponzon Myohoji. It is quite the climb to get the top of it (I'm not sure how many steps, but at least 700 or so) and my mom was intent on making it to the top in order to tie Buddhist prayer flags (lung ta) for her friends and family. As we were going up, Kristen and I both thought she might collapse, but again with her characteristic drive and stubbornness, she slowly, slowly, made it to the top. Shanti Stupa is over 14,000 ft, so for those you who don't know, she actually crossed another item off her bucket list (climbing a 14'er). The fact that she made it to the top of this craggy beast, is testament to her love and compassion for her friends. I could tell that she was doing this for her friends and family, whose names she wrote on the prayer flags the monk and I hoisted over the Tibetan plateau underneath us. We should all be thankful to have someone like her in our lives...
*I"m out of time here but there are many many more and these will have to wait for another day...
On the road to Agra.....
During the five plus hours we spent driving from Delhi to Agra I jotted down simple sentences, words, phrases about what I saw looking out the car window.
Here are some of my rambling, unedited observations and thoughts.
We have gone from night to day......(leaving Leh - arriving in Delhi)
Sharing the same road: cars, cabs, rickshaws, buses, trucks, bicycles, carts pulled by donkeys, cattle, camels and man, even saw a "holy man" walking
The road is a symphony of horns....with no conductor!
Four lanes roads with vehicles trying to Jockey into making it 7-9 lanes. Craziness!
Old Ambassador cars, black and white with curtain's over the back windows...wonder who is inside?
Barefoot woman on rocks, sleeping along side the road
Construction worker's children from Bihar playing in the construction debris along the road with no one watching them
Modern building's next to shacks
South Delhi- seemed nicer, more affluent
Despite the heat , it was 36 degrees C at 9:30 in the morning, flowering trees with shades of pink and white flowers blooming.
Barefoot boys pushing over filled push carts along the road
Passed a slum - terrible poverty - stench in the air
Buses passing us ready to explode with people
Outskirts of Delhi: industrial, expanding the metro, building everywhere
Driving for 1 1/4 hours and we still are not outside of Delhi
Camel walking along side the road no one with it.....who does it belong to? (Did I mention that I saw an elephant pulling a fallen tree in Atari?)
Abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables in the open markets...do people have money to pay for it?
Men and women walking with bundles and jugs on their heads
Truck load of women in bright colored, shinny sari's in front of our car
Sign says 156 KM to Agra, we are getting closer....if only the traffic would move
Men along side the road sleeping on rope cots.
Cows, water buffalo and now some sheep on the roa
Doug offered our driver some dried apricots from Kashmir,,,,he asked what it was, said he had never seen one and then said he was Hindu and was worried it might be meat.
I asked the driver what was growing in the field's..he told me they have three crops a year in this part of India: wheat mustard and then vegetables.
We are on a tollway: 35 rupees.....I hope it means we will go faster
In between Delhi and Agra is where Krishna lived (with this cow Herder girls)
Plastic bottles, plastic bags and garbage EVERYWHERE you look.
The sky isn't blue, it is gray because of all the pollution.
Agra is now 114 KM away, we stop to pay the UTTAR PRADESH tax, while the driver is inside men are knocking on the windows trying to sell us peacock fans, jewelry, window covers.....trying to ignore them.
Entering Agra: Population 1.2 million people...they all must be on the side of the road and in the streets......masses of humanity everywhere.
I hope some of the above makes sense.....sometimes it is just impossible to describe what India is like....the people, the heat, the animals, the garbage, the strange languages somehow it all acts like a drug and it all becomes addictive. I can honestly say, there is plenty I don't like about this place but at the same time, there is something that makes it exotic seductive and I want to come back for more.
Here are some of my rambling, unedited observations and thoughts.
We have gone from night to day......(leaving Leh - arriving in Delhi)
Sharing the same road: cars, cabs, rickshaws, buses, trucks, bicycles, carts pulled by donkeys, cattle, camels and man, even saw a "holy man" walking
The road is a symphony of horns....with no conductor!
Four lanes roads with vehicles trying to Jockey into making it 7-9 lanes. Craziness!
Old Ambassador cars, black and white with curtain's over the back windows...wonder who is inside?
Barefoot woman on rocks, sleeping along side the road
Construction worker's children from Bihar playing in the construction debris along the road with no one watching them
Modern building's next to shacks
South Delhi- seemed nicer, more affluent
Despite the heat , it was 36 degrees C at 9:30 in the morning, flowering trees with shades of pink and white flowers blooming.
Barefoot boys pushing over filled push carts along the road
Passed a slum - terrible poverty - stench in the air
Buses passing us ready to explode with people
Outskirts of Delhi: industrial, expanding the metro, building everywhere
Driving for 1 1/4 hours and we still are not outside of Delhi
Camel walking along side the road no one with it.....who does it belong to? (Did I mention that I saw an elephant pulling a fallen tree in Atari?)
Abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables in the open markets...do people have money to pay for it?
Men and women walking with bundles and jugs on their heads
Truck load of women in bright colored, shinny sari's in front of our car
Sign says 156 KM to Agra, we are getting closer....if only the traffic would move
Men along side the road sleeping on rope cots.
Cows, water buffalo and now some sheep on the roa
Doug offered our driver some dried apricots from Kashmir,,,,he asked what it was, said he had never seen one and then said he was Hindu and was worried it might be meat.
I asked the driver what was growing in the field's..he told me they have three crops a year in this part of India: wheat mustard and then vegetables.
We are on a tollway: 35 rupees.....I hope it means we will go faster
In between Delhi and Agra is where Krishna lived (with this cow Herder girls)
Plastic bottles, plastic bags and garbage EVERYWHERE you look.
The sky isn't blue, it is gray because of all the pollution.
Agra is now 114 KM away, we stop to pay the UTTAR PRADESH tax, while the driver is inside men are knocking on the windows trying to sell us peacock fans, jewelry, window covers.....trying to ignore them.
Entering Agra: Population 1.2 million people...they all must be on the side of the road and in the streets......masses of humanity everywhere.
I hope some of the above makes sense.....sometimes it is just impossible to describe what India is like....the people, the heat, the animals, the garbage, the strange languages somehow it all acts like a drug and it all becomes addictive. I can honestly say, there is plenty I don't like about this place but at the same time, there is something that makes it exotic seductive and I want to come back for more.
To quote Mark Twain.....
"In India "cold weather" is merely a conversational phrase and has come into use through the necessity of having someway to distinguish between weather which will melt a brass door knob and weather which will only make it mushy." Mark Twain said this of India during his trip around the equator. It was true then, true now and most likely be true until the end of the world.
At four o'clock this afternoon we went to view The Agra Fort, one of the finest Mughal forts in India. The Agra Fort (a.k.a.: Red Fort) is massive and constructed of red sandstone. The fort was originally constructed as a military fort, turned into a palace and eventually the gilded prison which Shah Jahan spent the last eight year's of his life , after he was deposed and imprisoned by his son Aurangzeb. I think I failed to mentioned that after Shah Jahan's death his son did allow his body to be buried next to his beloved wife in the Taj Mahal.
Enough of my new found and limited knowledge of Indian Mughal history.....THE HEAT, oh my gosh, I can't believe how hot is was outside. Kristin walked (or I should say "tried to walk" she was surrounded by Indian's wanting their picture taken with her, wanting their children to be photographed next to her or just wanting to talk to her.....she was more popular than a Bollywood star) with an umbrella shading her and DFO gave me his hat to wear as we toured the fort. Doug, again, was our guide (for those of you who don't know, DFO studied a lot of Indian history in graduate school and he has brought his Rustic Pathway student's here for several years) and provided us with a good history lesson. The problem with getting there at four was that the fort closed as sunset, that fact, coupled with the intense heat made it impossible for us to see more than a quarter of this massive structure.
Speaking of the heat again......D and K are at the pool enjoying the last full day at the Taj. Tomorrow morning we are going back to Delhi and then unfortunately I leave on the midnight flight back to Chicago. We are having the driver drop us off at the hotel where D&K will spend the night before taking a train back to MG. It has been a dream come true as far as I'm concerned....India remains on my bucketlist.....there is just too much to see in one visit.
At four o'clock this afternoon we went to view The Agra Fort, one of the finest Mughal forts in India. The Agra Fort (a.k.a.: Red Fort) is massive and constructed of red sandstone. The fort was originally constructed as a military fort, turned into a palace and eventually the gilded prison which Shah Jahan spent the last eight year's of his life , after he was deposed and imprisoned by his son Aurangzeb. I think I failed to mentioned that after Shah Jahan's death his son did allow his body to be buried next to his beloved wife in the Taj Mahal.
Enough of my new found and limited knowledge of Indian Mughal history.....THE HEAT, oh my gosh, I can't believe how hot is was outside. Kristin walked (or I should say "tried to walk" she was surrounded by Indian's wanting their picture taken with her, wanting their children to be photographed next to her or just wanting to talk to her.....she was more popular than a Bollywood star) with an umbrella shading her and DFO gave me his hat to wear as we toured the fort. Doug, again, was our guide (for those of you who don't know, DFO studied a lot of Indian history in graduate school and he has brought his Rustic Pathway student's here for several years) and provided us with a good history lesson. The problem with getting there at four was that the fort closed as sunset, that fact, coupled with the intense heat made it impossible for us to see more than a quarter of this massive structure.
Speaking of the heat again......D and K are at the pool enjoying the last full day at the Taj. Tomorrow morning we are going back to Delhi and then unfortunately I leave on the midnight flight back to Chicago. We are having the driver drop us off at the hotel where D&K will spend the night before taking a train back to MG. It has been a dream come true as far as I'm concerned....India remains on my bucketlist.....there is just too much to see in one visit.
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