We haven't had the internet for a few days, we've been in a city called Pune near Mumbai but are leaving for Ahmedabad, in Gujarat, on an overnight train tonight.

Also: due to some weird paperwork business, the service on our phone has been cancelled. We'll probably have a new phone number within the next week or so-- though it's easier said than done. In the meantime: we're doing alright!

As requested: Food Update!

A few of you have been asking us what the food has been like here. To answer generally, it's been consistently fairly good, and consistently really spicy. Even on the plane ride over, on which we had ordered the "Hindimeal," our mouths were a little on fire. At some point, I had to tell Yotam that saying "this is really spicy" during every meal was no longer necessary.

Ordering food has been an interesting experience initself. Thinking that as frequenters of Indian restaurants, we'd be somewhat informed about Indian cuisine was a misguided assumption. While every menu includes the standard Indian-American restaurant fare, they also include about forty items we've never heard of. And no descriptions. We basically just pick our food completely at random, and almost always end up ordering too much. Which, aside from the guilt we get from wasting, is kind of okay since an enormous feast is rarely over $5 total.

Despite our unfamiliarity, our meals do usually consist of two curries, rice, naan, and a Kingfisher, soda in a glass bottle that look like it's been in circulation since 1970, or an "iced coffee" (which is this kind of gross drink of instant coffee, cream, and ice cream).

There have, of course, been some outstanding meals, however, which has encouraged us to make a Biweekly Top Five Meal List EXXTRAAVAGANZATHON! Here we go:

5.The meals at Honey Valley Dining Hall in Coorg were, in most ways, not that different from what we fix over at 59th street: Cooked veggies like okra, beets, and greenbeans tossed up with some spices and served with rice. Most often they were cooked with (what we think) were mustard seeds and coupled with some kind of fried sweet things and tiny bananas. What made this food special was that all the produce was organically grown on the property, and cooked using a generator that was hidden a short walk into the woods. One of the banana trees was right outside of our hut!

4. Before we boarded our bus to Mysore, we decided to stop for a quick bite at the second-floor restaurant at the bus station. Considering our locale, our expectations were low, but our minds were quickly changed when we saw how crowded the restaurant was. We both ordered the South Indian Thali, which is an all-you-can-eat meal usually consisting of rice and three or more curries or other spreads. One of the best things about thalis, though, is that because it's prepared en masse and most people order the thali, it's not usually more than an dollar. This thali was the usual unidentifiable spicy goop, but the whole thing was served up on a giant banana leaf, true Karnatakan style.

3. Another bus experience, and another thali makes it on this list, this time during our stop in Udupi on our way to Goa. Even though we only had about five minutes to scarf this one down, it was seriously delicious. We had heard that Udupi was known for it's vegetarian cuisine and with the sweet chana masala, fluffy naan, and four other tasty dishes we were not disappointed.

2. Dinner on the beach in Goa is literally on the beach. Like, sand under our chairs and beach dogs and cows roaming around. This setting was really romantic (there's just no other way to put it!). Each table was lit with a candle and we were able to see some spectacular sky stuff, including a few huge shooting stars. The food was pretty salty, but it went well with our big bottle of Kingfisher. We had veggie curry, potato-stuffed paratha (which is like naan), veggie pulao (which is rice and veggies and we're still not sure how it differs from biriyani exactly), and deep fried veggies. There were a few mishaps, however: we couldn't tell what was what inside the breading and Yotam and I BOTH ended up eating a super, super spicy chile. Like, the spiciest thing imaginable, straight to the dome. And then a dog peed on me.

1. What gets the number one slot for the past two weeks is actually also what we suspect made us sick. Our aim was to go to the highly recommended restaurant Maiyas, in Bangalore, for the unlimited thali. We weren't as hungry as we had anticipated though, and noticed that next to Maiya's there was a super long line (or, actually more of a clump, since it's rare to find and actual line in India) of men in business attire drinking out of tiny white cups. There's nothing more that Yotam and I love than standing in a good line, so we hopped on and were immediately directed by two or three people that we had to buy a ticket and then trade the ticket for a cup of coffee. While waiting for the coffee, we saw a cook throwing together at least two dozen ingredients into a bowl-sized fried dough puff. And it looked fucking delicious. We tried to order one but another one of the suits told us that "it is impossible to have both at the same time." So we decided to momentarily forgo our coffee for the puff. And it was, by far, the best thing we've eaten in India. As far as we can tell, it was a flakey bread filled with one layer of toasted soy beans, rice noodles, spices, some kind of sauce, pomegranate seeds, diced tomatoes, a bunch of other savory crunchies, a layer of creamy yogurt, and then a second layer with all of the ingredients again, topped with some fresh cilantro. It was simultaneously all flavors and textures possible. After finishing, we got back in line and enjoyed the only really good cup of coffee that we've had in India. If this is was in fact what gave us a week of stomach problems, it was by all means totally worth it.


Runners up include: Fresh Pressed Cane Juice with Lime/Ginger, Capsicum Baji, Jackfruit.

Go Go Goa!

After another epic journey—this time, an all night bus ride that was truly nauseating (barf)--we have arrived in Goa. Goa is an anomaly in India; the state, which is known for its beach towns and legendary parties during the peak season (which, with our luck, is of course December) has a heavy Portuguese influence from colonization in the 1500s, and a heavy hippie influence, from colonization in -1960s. Goa boasts dozens of churches, which like Indian temples, range from grandiose structures to tiny road-side stalls consisting of a string of fresh flowers, a place to light a fire, and a depiction of the god being worshiped. Really the only thing indicating that these praying stalls are Christian is that instead of Shiva or Ganesh there's a little shrine for Jesus. Goa is also the first place we've seen non-Indians in any significant numbers.

The first town we stopped in, called Panjim, felt a lot like many of the other cities we've been to with one striking difference: there were like, no people, anywhere. This is a rarity in India. As our friend from Mumbai put it (when asked why so many people showed up to the Bluefrog on a Sunday night to see a band as crappy as Split Unplugged): there are just a lot of people in India. But not in Panjim! Or at least, not in the off season! We head out towards the water (Arabian Sea!!!) for lunch and some ice cream coffees (a popular ice-free alternative to iced coffee) and found ourselves to be virtually the only people at an enormous waterfront restaurant that, with little stretch of the imagination, seemed like it would be a pretty hopping place during the peak season.

Even before we got to Goa, the mythical Goan “peak season” seemed to haunt us with any mention of the state. The group of wedding-goers we had met in Coorg ubiquitously responded to our plan to go to Goa by saying “It's the off season. But you'll still have a good time.” Now that we're here, I completely understand this reaction. The number of swanky bars, nice restaurants, aryuvedic spas, and shopping centers outnumber those of any other city we've been to. Though, in the off season, they also seem to vastly outnumber people.

While this is obviously a detriment in some ways (many things are closed, there aren't the infamous all-nighter trance parties, and, uh, there aren't as many folks around to meet) it's so far had it's advantages. For one, to get from Panjim to Calungate (which is where we are now) it can take up to three hours by bus during peak season. It took us about twenty minutes. It was also really easy to find a place to stay: we're at a really adorable little hotel that's all mosaic of mismatched ceramic bits and decorated with little windchimes and brightly colored tapestries. It has a cafe with tasty food, nice rooms, and a pool (!). It also rents us out a scooter for Rs. 200/ day (that's like, $4). And, thanks to the off-season, the roads are empty enough that we rode up and down the coast with very few other vehicles to deal with. Considering how insane Indian-style driving is, light traffic is practically a gift of the gods. Plus this made it a little safer for Yotam (who is driving) to get used to the whole left-side-of-the-road thing.

We've spent our first day here scootering (scooting?) from beach to beach. The landscape here is beautiful: tiny gulfs of water dotted with strange trees; mangoes, coconuts, jackfruit, and oft-unidentifiable other things growing all around. Little palm thatched shacks (that are actually, really palm thatched) line the beaches. Our first stop, Baga beach, was surprisingly pretty crowded, and bikini-clad Westerners were swimming alongside Indian ladies who-- I kid not-- go in the water fully clothed (in flowy Indian attire, even!). Yotam and I stopped to put our feet in the water when my favorite interaction of the day happened: A boy of about 13 approached us to try and sell me some junky jewelry. He quickly understood I wasn't interested but stuck around and looked at us. You could tell this kid had some attitude: he had kind of longish sticking-up hair and a muscle tee and kind of squinted up at us. After a moment he turned to Yotam and said “You're so white! You look like a chicken.” Perfect, haha.

Anyway, my chicken and I didn't stay long because we hadn't brought any sunscreen with us and preferred our scooting adventure anyway,enjoying the freedom to go long distances without having to worry about negotiating fares or whether or not we would like where we were to end up (though, most of Goa seems pretty reliably enjoyable). When we got back to the guesthouse we met some of the other residents: two Canadian girls, two Norwegian guys, and an Australian. We all swapped India stories of various sorts: about beautiful places we've been, trains that were missed, Indian toilet dramas, getting ripped off, times we've been met with disarming kindness. Eventually we all went out to dinner together and had a pretty good time. Even though it's the off-season.

Coorg

First-- let me apologize in advance for the poor typing that is about to ensue, we're in a really janky internet cafe in a tiny town called Madekeri on our way to Panaji, Goa, and the keyboard is in really bad condition.

We spent the past five days in a region of Karnataka called Coorg, on a coffee/tea/honey/pepper plantation called Honey Valley. When we last posted, we really didn't know anything about Coorg, or where we would be staying. In fact, three hours into our busride, we still had pretty much no idea what kind of place Honey valley would be. Every time we drove past a scenic spot, we'd cross our fingers in hopes that this was where we were headed. The bus ride itself was beautiful; we saw three elephants (two wild, one being used for labor) and the smell of tea came through the bus windows.
When we got off the bus, the sun was begining to set, and we had missed our connecting bus to Kabenakab. We had a taxi take us, which was a Rolls Royce-esque car that is actually unbelievably common hery, though rickety and old, and they often come decked out with colored headlights or other gaudy decor. Yotam called the owner of the plantation to find out where we should meet him in Kabenakab, who in response, told us, "Kabenakab is a very small place."

Once again, we had no idea how far of a journey we were on, and the sun was really going down. We drove farther and farther into the wilderness, again imagining at each lit area we passed that this must be it, this must be Honey Valley. After about an hour, we were let out of the cab at a three way stop with a single shop, the shopkeeper's house, one other structure, and a bustop with a sign reading "Kabenakab Junction." It was completely dark, except for a few candles on. After some confusion, a jeep came down the hill. Yotam looked at the driver and said "Honey Valley?" and the driver said yes and we got into the jeep.

Some people drive jeeps because they've seen Jurassic Park, and some people drive jeeps because there is no road, straight up hill, on uneven terrain in remote areas. This jeep ride was the latter sort. But also it was kind of like Jurassic Park.

Two separate jeep rides in, and we were finally in Honey Valley. We were shown our hut, which was a 10'x10' space with two beds and a table. we roomed with a mouse (or possible bat) which we named George Also (we had already named a cow George). It would be morning when we would finally see our surroundings, but from the smell of the air we could already tell that our journey was worthwhile.

When we woke up, we weren't disappointed. Foggy hills surrounded us, covered in coffee plants as well as other lush fauna, most of which was new to us. Cows and friendly dogs roamed around the premises (we even saw a puppy playing with two calfs and almost died of cute overload).
We spent most of our time there hiking, reading, playing cards, and relaxing. We also got the chance to make some friends with a group of young Indians on their way to a wedding, an Indian family on vacation, and an American couple living in Mumbai, who were very surprised to see us.

We've got to go to the bus station now for our overnight to Goa. For the record, we still plan to upload those videos we made (despite their untimeliness at this point) as soon as we find fast enough internet connection. Which at this rate, looks like it may be a while.

Leaving Bangalore

Bangalore was really great. We made a video blog about it, but couldn't find a reliable connection to upload it.

We're leaving for Mysore in a few minutes, and from there heading to Coorge, which is known as the Scotland of India (though we have no idea what they mean by that).

We're in a rush now and we'll update later.

Bye Bye, Mumbai!

Left Mumbai this morning for Bangalore via Spicejet (yes, it's really called that). Very sleepy, so I'll get to explaining Bangalore tomorrow.

Our last day in Mumbai was a varied experience. I had a really hard time sleeping the night before and so our plan was to take it easy. We started out trying to go to the big museum in Colaba thinking it would be air conditioned, and it wasn't, so we didn't. Instead we spent the day wandering around south of Colaba, through some busy side streets. A few of you have requested more picture posts, so here is what the area we were in looks like:




and here is a man sharpening a knife using the power of a bicycle:




After hours of wandering we turned in to the hotel for our regular midday strip-down-and-hang-by-the-air-conditioner session. Since it was our last night, and Mumbai is one of the few cities we're going to that has a real night life, we decided to do our best to take advantage. It was, however, Sunday, so that made it fairly difficult.

Eventually we found some club through a website called burrp (Indian Yelp, basically) that was hosting a free show of a local band called Split Unplugged (or, the band was called just Split and this was their unplugged set --- we're still not quite clear about it). The bar, called the Bluefrog, seemed touristy from descriptions (and from the fact that it was listed in the Lonely Planet Guide) but we hadn't really met anyone at all in Mumbai and figured that if nothing else it would be nice to get some feeling of youth culture and the local music scene.

The Bluefrog is in an area called Lower Parel, about 20 minutes north of Fort. The journey there has been one of the most memorable so far. As always, getting into a cab in Mumbai is reliable brush with death (or, at least that's how it seems, though the drivers apparently all have fairly good track records). On the ride we passed through some of the slums of Mumbai, which are sprawling networks of shacks built from corrugated scrap metal and other reused materials. We also had some very intense encounters while stopped at intersections. One man, an older man, held a baby's gangrened arm into the cab, inches from Yotam's face. We had encountered begging people before, but this instance was particularly horrific. The situation of the poor in Mumbai is difficult to describe, especially when coming from our stance as tourists and I'm not sure that anything I could write here could convey the visceral reaction that interactions like this one produce. I think, after spending only four days in Mumbai, it would be irresponsible of me to give my uninformed explanation of the issue of the slums or the street people. Still, it's important to note poverty is an ever present and emotionally stirring aspect of India, and I'll leave it at that for now.

We got out of the cab to find ourselves in a somewhat seedy area, and we were both feeling pretty solemn, and the night was starting to look like a failure. But we had already gone all the way out there, and were starting to get hungry, so we decided we'd find the Bluefrog and stick it out.

After much searching we arrived. The place was an abandoned warehouse, converted to an ultramodern lounge with an enormous soundsystem, six projectors, and not a soul around. The menu was all American style food, and corny classic rock was being blasted at us. It looked like it could have been a bar in California-- a bar that we would be very unlikely to visit. To top it off, it was also expensive, and not just by Indian standards. But we were hungry, and held out hope that if we stayed we would at least meet the musicians, which would satisfy our thirst for some interaction.

The food, while presented beautifully, tasted really, really bad. We would have left, but other people-- young, Indian people--started to trickle in ,which renewed our hope and helped us ignore the strange discomfort caused by being Americans in an American-style bar. By the time the band came on, it was an impressive crowd for a Sunday night. And while Split (unplugged?) played a pretty offe set consisting of badly played Metal, a basically arhythmic cover of a Police song, and an endearingly delivered yet downright awful Pearl Jam song, the night didn't turn out to be a total failure: as we were leaving, we made friends with an Indian guy named Rahul, who, like me, had quit his job to travel around India. He has hopes of going to grad school at USC. He was friendly, and funny, and told us some stuff about India, and thanks to him our night turned out okay. So we stuck around for a bit longer, and drank a round of Tuborgs, because the Bluefrog most certainly does not sell Kingfisher.

All in all, an odd day, and when we woke up this morning, I think we were both ready for a change of scene. And Bangalore--wow--it's different.

Colablog

We spent the last few days exploring South Mumbai, splitting our time between the areas called Fort and Colaba.

Our hotel is in Fort, so day one was spent wandering around our neighborhood. After the aforementioned film mishap, we found ourselves in a labyrinthic bazaar, stretching easily six miles each way. The bazaar was partially indoor, partially outdoor, with aisles of every good imaginable-- spices, produce, chocolates, toys, stationary, machine parts, textiles. Yotam and I had a running joke about the fact that each road was basically all one type of product; we referred to them a the lace district, the key district, the rubber tube district, etc. The entire market was an assault on the senses: smells both good and bad, penetrating heat and humidity, people of all sorts approaching us to buy things we most definitely don't need (most everyone who caught me even glancing at their goods would greet me with an enthusiastic "yes, madame"). Everything is riddled with complications; language barriers have surpassed our expectations, we apparently suck at not getting ripped off, we don't know where anything is really. Exhaustion overcame us, and we came back to the hotel and took a euphoric, air conditioned, three hour nap.

Today was a lot more successful. As Yotam puts it, the learning curve is high. We even smell like curry already. Our morning was spent doing some intensive people watching from our window, which is in a pretty commercial part of town. We spent a lot of time watching this little boy pedal strung-up flowers to taxi drivers and storefronts, many of whom gladly bought and hung them.

Then we head out for the Gateway of India, which we were misdirected to and instead found ourselves at a strip of fancy banks. Eventually, we figured out where we were, which happened to be near one of three synagogues in Mumbai, a bright blue building with a handful of police officers on guard. We went in and found a man sleeping on one of the pews, and out of curiosity asked him if there would be a Friday night service. He kind of laughed and said we should come back at 7:30. Why not, right?

After wandering around for a bit longer, we found some men playing cricket in the park and sat down to rest and watch. Neither of us really understand cricket at all, but some British guy happened to come sit next to us on the tree trunk we were on and gave us a very, very convoluted explanation. I kid you not, he began by saying "well, when you're in your out, and when you're out your in." It only got more confusing from there but it was nice to chat with someone who spoke the same language as us, even though it was basically a lot of mumbo jumbo.

Back on the hunt for the Gateway of India, we were lucky enough to be sidetracked by three smallish art galleries, one of which had an apparently notable cafe called Samovar, at which we stopped for lunch and met a very, very loquacious movie producer who told us what was essentially his life story. Anyway, the galleries were really lovely to see, and were in many ways like galleries in Oakland (except way hotter). Stylistically there are similarities between Contemporary Mumbai art and certain American art, but to see these styles depicting Indian topics was definitely a pleasure.

Finally, just as our clothes were basically entirely soaked through and our feet throbbing from walking and heat, we found the Gateway of India, which is a magnificent structure similar in style to the Arc de Triomphe. The area was really touristy and people were really aggressively trying to sell us stuff (our favorite attempt was a guy trying to sell us postcards, maps, or "maybe a different kind of map" as he pulled out a bag of weed from an envelope). Nonetheless it was worth seeing and we headed home to de-moisten ourselves before going to temple.

At 7:30 we arrived back at the synagogue. The policemen were still there, and as we walked in we were given the official security questionairre (which was, "You am Jewish?"). The synagogue was organized Sefardic style with the bima in the middle, and orthodox style with the women separated from the men. I watched Yotam from the balcony, among a few Brooklyn chabadniks, an Israeli or two, and a few Indian Jews. The service was pretty casual considering the people in attendance, with the men kind of chatting and wandering around during the service. It was interesting to see a culture we're more familiar with in a country we're so foreign to, but as non religious Jews we didn't exactly feel at home. It was definitely worth experiencing, though.

At the end of the service, I said Shabbat Shalom to one of the women I was standing with. She corrected me by saying Shavua Tov. This is how, eventually, Yotam and I pieced together that it is actually Saturday, not Friday. Talk about being disoriented.

Oh! One last thing to add to this long long post. We finally, after much difficulty (because for some reason you're not supposed to issue sim cards to foreigners) got our phone to work . If you need to reach us for some reason, our number is +917738651722.

Mumbai is hot, cool, and hot.

Wow. Day One. I'm not going to make a full post until tomorrow, because in all honesty we didn't do much today (so hot, tired, and disoriented) BUT if there's one story worth telling, it's this:

Yotam and I, while walking over to the Victoria Terminus this morning, happened upon a crowd of people struggling to see some goings-on at a park across the street. We figured that, Mumbai being the film capital of India, we should check it out, so we made our way to the other side of the road (not a simple task, mind you, in a city with nearly patternless traffic) to find Mumbai's School of Art and Architecture, where there appeared to be some kind of film-shoot going on. There was a separation between the onlookers and the crew, but there didn't seem to be anything enforcing people from moving in closer, so we did, and found ourselves standing next to a young Indian couple. Yotam asked

"What's going on here?"
"Filming."

This was obvious to us already, because of the lighting set up, the woman giving orders through a megaphone, a food van, and a couple trailers. So Yotam wanted to know a little more

"What's being filmed?"
"A movie."

The woman with the megaphone directed her voice towards us, though she was speaking Hindi. The guy we were talking to, who now seemed like he was probably an actor in the film, turned to Yotam nonchalantly:

"We're filming a movie. And you're standing in the frame."

Whoooops!

Arrived!

We just got the hotel in Mumbai. We're both very exhausted from the flight, but excited to finally have a tangible experience of India and what lies ahead for us.

Mumbai is like no city I've ever seen. Our only impression of the city so far is from the window of the tiny taxi cab that we got at the airport driving across the city to the hotel. It's 4am, there are people sleeping all over the streets. Young men sleeping shirtless on small towels on the sidwalk. Entire families sleeping in the same way. And cab drivers strewn over their hoods and windsheilds as if they were hit by their car and fell asleep there. Storefronts, shacks, and buildings of all sorts are pushed together on top of eachother. It's warm and humid even at this hour. My glasses instantly fogged when I stepped out of the airport doors.

We're at the hotel now, which seems nice enough: air conditioner, wifi, two clean beds, bottled water. It's located in a part of the city called Fort, which we think is near quite a few things that we want to do and see.

Today's the Day

!

Video Blog!

We haven't left for India yet, as you can see, but we're posting a test video for the blog because were so excited. I'm even dressed in my India clothes already.

More to come from the subcontinent...

Preparing for India

I think it's fine time we get this blog on the roll. Our flight date is May 19, so we have just about two weeks to go.

Planning the trip is a pretty integral part of the whole experience: even though we're not there yet, it's obvious that our heads have been in India since we bought the tickets. Beyond spending like, 99% of the time daydreaming about what it will be like, we've also had a lot of logistical things to take care of. We've spent weeks laying out different possible routes, reading up on customs, sights to see, doing some Hindi Rosetta Stone, renewing passports, getting vaccines, obtaining visas, making lists, and (Yotam's favorite part) buying gear. Yet somehow the date approaches and I feel like nothing we can do will actually prepare us at all. So late last night Yotam and I brainstormed some possible measures we can take to get us ready for how generally intense this experience is going to be. Some of these include:

1. Eating food that looks delicious but will surely make us feel sick. For us, that means either Chipotle, or chopped liver with nacho cheese and raisins, frosted and baked in a cupcake tin.

2. Trying to navigate places we've never been to with only a map. If forced to ask for directions, we'll do so in broken English to account for any language barriers we may encounter.

3. Speak broke English to everyone now is good idea in general.

4. Sleeping with ninety blankets and a humidifier. And a sweatshirt.

5. Every once in a while, with no warning, one of us will pour an enormous bucket of water on the other to simulate the monsoon rains.

6. Carrying two months worth of stuff with us wherever we go. And sleeping with our backpacks on. While in a moving vehicle.

7.The rupee is used in pretty high denominations (Rs 45 = 1 USD), so from now until we leave we'll be paying for everything in coins.

8. Bargain practice. The best way to practice for bargaining is by trying to cut a deal with someone who is not trying to cut a deal with you. This can include attempting to negotiate prices at a grocery store, for instance, or simply trying to buy something off of someone who isn't selling anything. ("How much did you pay for that laptop? I'll give you $45 for it. Okay, $50. No deal. No deal. Okay $100 and that's my final offer. Will you accept payment in coins?")

9. In order to get used to people staring at us at all times (which everyone we've spoke to has said, as Americans, is unavoidable) Yotam and I will dress in the most outlandish way possible. It isn't easy standing out in the East Bay, so Yotam will have to wear a sequined navy uniform, and I will wear a dog costume.

10. In addition, since we'll have to get used to changing our clothes less often (or at least, I will... Yotam's already an expert at that) we've decided to wear these aforementioned items daily until we leave. I anticipate that Yotam's professors will think he looks beautiful during his music jury today.


That's all for now, but, yes, welcome to this blog. We're going to do our best to keep it updated during our adventures.