Just quickly between catching up with writing about all our adventures. It's the 30th and we are in Munnar. Google it. It's incredible. I'll go into more later.
We probably aren't going to check our email since the internet cafes are all computer virus havens. We don't want to put in our passwords. Please forward this blog link on to everyone you might think would care.
Thanks.
Good Korma.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Day 04: Sobering Realizations
Day 04:
We arrived in Kochi pretty strung out, but excited to finally be starting this madness. We were going to just make it to the hotel were everyone was meeting to pick up their Rickshaws. We didn't know how we were going to start the rally today as we felt like walking dead.
The cab ride to Fort Kochi from the airport made us all consider taking religion more seriously. There seemed to me no way in hell 3 naive Americans were ever going to survive 20 feet of Indian roadway.
The Indian people are some of the friendliest people I have ever met, until they get into a vehicle. The roads are complete and utter chaos. There are stray dogs everywhere. Cows, monkeys, cats, people on bicycle-looking, cobbled-together creations, hauling 4,000 bananas - all zigzaging around like drunken Aeroflot stewardesses. Add to that zillions of auto rickshaws, trucks, buses 10 times past capacity, not to mention the herds of people walking in the streets - and you have terror incarnate. We felt defeated. Real, childlike fear at what lay ahead.
We got to the hotel and made it to the school grounds were the rickshaws were. Almost everyone was there already. Noticeable absent was Team Rajastan Raiders (Nathan McClain's team), who oddly enough we bumped into at the airport bag claim in Kochi. Everyone was painting their Rickshaws and covering them with stickers. Everyone seemed a little nervous and very excited.
We painted one of our Rickshaws and left the other one pristine for photos.
The team from Sweden gave us the idea of trying to buy a roof rack. We have lots of gear. More then can fit into the Rickshaws easily. We walked around a bit and found an autorickshaw cabbie with a rack on this vehicle. With some sign language he offered to buy it right off him. He motioned us to hop in and took us on a ride through the side streets of Kochi. We wondered if we had made the right decision.
He took us to his house where he had another autorickshaw on blocks with a rack he was willing to sell. His 'house' was a series of shacks, up a narrow dirt track with chickens, goats and cats milling about along with crowds of kids playing. This was our first up close interaction with the locals on their home turf. Boys came up and gawked at us while the women shyly peaked out of doorways. We were a serious novelty. The first of almost non-stop reactions from people all over India.
We drove our now "pimped-out" rickshaw back to the school, with only a little help from our new richshaw driver friend. It is a bit hard to not stall out and scary when something is hurtling it's way towards you.
At this point we decided that attempting the roads out of town would be suicide. We needed supplies, more practice driving, and a good night's rest. That's exactly what we did.
The hotel where we picked up our info packet was booked solid but they were able to get us a room down the road a bit. It was a modest room with 2 single beds and a "mattress" they brought in for the floor.
Bathrooms in India have a large bucket with a small plastic pitcher in lew of toilet paper. Luckily we are packing our own as we have no idea what we are supposed to do with the pitcher. We do know that whatever is done is accomplished with the left hand by the locals. As a result, everyone appears to be right-handed when it comes to just about any other things requiring hands.
Anthony //
Day 3-4: Arrival!
Day 03:
We made it to Delhi and got through customs. We'd missed our driver the night before that was supposed to take us to the hotel that we also missed. We'd missed out flight to Kochi and were in the market for another. Now that we were in the country officially we could get flights domestically. India Air is the best airline hands down. Real plates. 4-star meals. Friendly people. Lots of them, everywhere, looking to make your life pleasant. I which they would open a branch in Chicago.
Although we were sad to have to return to Mombai, the domestic terminal was completely different then the international. Everyone says that the first thing you notice about India is the smell. They are so right. But it wasn't quite the way we'd all heard it. We actually smelled Mombai in the air when the plane depressurized 15 minutes before landing. Mombai smells like a house fire. A house full of trash, tires, and maybe a rancid cow - all burning. Everywhere is burning trash, smoke, and smog. It is a volatile mixture that threatens to make you choke at every breath.
The traffic was truly harrowing. We were scared. How were we going to negotiate these roads? We took comfort in the fact that our travels would be bringing us back to Mombai.
We had to spend the night as there was no flights to Kochi. It was sad that our 4th day was going to begin and we weren't even 'there' yet. On top of it we were going to miss the kick off party the night before the race. So be it.
Anthony //
We made it to Delhi and got through customs. We'd missed our driver the night before that was supposed to take us to the hotel that we also missed. We'd missed out flight to Kochi and were in the market for another. Now that we were in the country officially we could get flights domestically. India Air is the best airline hands down. Real plates. 4-star meals. Friendly people. Lots of them, everywhere, looking to make your life pleasant. I which they would open a branch in Chicago.
Although we were sad to have to return to Mombai, the domestic terminal was completely different then the international. Everyone says that the first thing you notice about India is the smell. They are so right. But it wasn't quite the way we'd all heard it. We actually smelled Mombai in the air when the plane depressurized 15 minutes before landing. Mombai smells like a house fire. A house full of trash, tires, and maybe a rancid cow - all burning. Everywhere is burning trash, smoke, and smog. It is a volatile mixture that threatens to make you choke at every breath.
The traffic was truly harrowing. We were scared. How were we going to negotiate these roads? We took comfort in the fact that our travels would be bringing us back to Mombai.
We had to spend the night as there was no flights to Kochi. It was sad that our 4th day was going to begin and we weren't even 'there' yet. On top of it we were going to miss the kick off party the night before the race. So be it.
Anthony //
Days 1-3: Airports of the World
Day 01
Leaving Detroit around noon on Christmas added just the right touch to the surreal beginnings of what is proving to be the trip of a life time. I was already feeling a bit nervous about this trip when I realized just how close I would be cutting it in New York. I needed to get from La Guardia to JFK to meet the rest of Team Good Korma, in about 2 hours. My flight was circling the airport and I thought for sure that I would miss my connecting flight. Luckily I caught a cab quickly and made it to the airport just in time. I didn't find my the team at first and again thought that this ill-planned trip could end before it began. So many things were going through my head, not least of which was just how much of this trip was unknowable. It was incredibly unsettling.
We all hooked up at the gate and were on our way to Moscow without incident. Aeroflot airlines is strange. I'm not unfamiliar with Russians living in Chicago, but it was strange being on a Russian plane full of Russians. We were running around trying to get to our various airports and so relieved to finally be on our way. When we sat back in our chairs, seats in an upright and locked position and prepared for take off, it suddenly hit all of us. No one spoke English. The signs, emergency preparedness cards, magazines - were all in Russian. Our exit from the States had been very swift. It was the beginning of what we knew would be a completely foreign experience.
Aeroflot still uses some of the ex-Soviet military planes for passengers. We had a plane with a 12 foot ceiling. It looked as if they had back out the army tanks and bolted in some rows of chairs. Frightening. The food was worse. As some odd nod to our final desitination, the chicken option on the flight was curried. Well a not-so-close Russian approximation of what they thought curry must be like.
We arrived in Moscow over 8 hours after leaving NYC. For us it was 2:30 in the morning but in Moscow it was 10:30 am. We were bedraggled and delirious. After negotiating customs we settled in to finding a Russian equivalent of coffee. Half-way to the cafe it dawned on us that we only had 2 of the 3 camera cases we were supposed to have. It must have seemed strange to the crowds of smoking Russians buying duty free perfume and Johnny Walker Scotch to see us sprinting back through the terminal. Shockingly the surly Russian military woman working the customs desk let us run back to our plane. She rolled her eyes and said that it was locked but one of us could try. I jumped towards the gate and pounded on the door for the workers I could see down the gate hallway leading to the airplane entrance. They looked and walked away. I wasn't getting back on the plane. Our customs officer 'friend' realized she should be hassling us more and shooed us the transit office to register a complaint. This was looking bad. On the way to the office we discussed possibly replacing the film that was in the case forgotten in the overhead compartment. We knew that medium format film would be hard to come by. It occured to me that we just might able to asked the military officers if they could find any film for us. I suspected that they might be able to find the exact type and quantity that we lost and probably even have a prelabeled bag for us. We also considered the unpleasantness of the Russian jails and rethuoght this strategy. The folks at the transit office, an office for just this type of traveler situation, seemed mildly angry that we were bothering them. Turns out the whole thing appeared too fishy for them. Security found the missing case but weren't liking the looks of things. Michael had to go and watch them search it and vouch for it's purpose. We got the film back and enjoyed a little repast.
After this incident we each took ownership of one of the bags. This wasn't going to happen again, we were making sure of this.
Our flight from Moscow to Delhi was another 7 hours. This put is well into the evening of the 26th, India time. An odd thing happens to Delhi each end of December. Delhi likes to shroud itself completely in fog. This wasn't good. We circled Delhi for awhile and they finally diverted us to Mombai. It was frustrating because not speaking Russian, we had very little information to go on. Mombai (Bombay) is a few hours south by plane. On the one had it was closer to our final destination, Kochi, on the other, we hadn't entered immigration yet and probably couldn't leave the airport.
We arrived at nearly midnight and began one of the most uncomfortable nights of the trip. Aeroflot said we'd get back on the plane and return north to Delhi when they heard that the fog had cleared. The Mombai International terminal is a pit of dispair. There is very little to eat. Very few places you'd want to sit. And we couldn't find an Aeroflot representative or get a straight answer from anyone.
Team Good Korma was in a sorry state. We hadn't slept in over a day and were clearly feeling the depths of exhaustion that comes from 24 hours of travel.
At around 2 in the morning we got a free dinner from Aeroflot. Our excited plane load of passengers headed for the restaurant, only to find that "dinner" was a single, small fried vegetable thingie, a handful of potato chips, and ketchup.
Around 4am there was a near riot because no one could get an answer as to when we were leaving. Unlike many other airports, there were no ticketing desks where we were at. There was no place to go to make a stink. The very occasional official looking person that happen to walk by was immediately surround by screaming people. It was getting ugly.
I could go on and on, but long story short, we left for Delhi the next day at 2pm. We were on day 3 of our trip and we were heading away from where we need to be.
Anthony
Leaving Detroit around noon on Christmas added just the right touch to the surreal beginnings of what is proving to be the trip of a life time. I was already feeling a bit nervous about this trip when I realized just how close I would be cutting it in New York. I needed to get from La Guardia to JFK to meet the rest of Team Good Korma, in about 2 hours. My flight was circling the airport and I thought for sure that I would miss my connecting flight. Luckily I caught a cab quickly and made it to the airport just in time. I didn't find my the team at first and again thought that this ill-planned trip could end before it began. So many things were going through my head, not least of which was just how much of this trip was unknowable. It was incredibly unsettling.
We all hooked up at the gate and were on our way to Moscow without incident. Aeroflot airlines is strange. I'm not unfamiliar with Russians living in Chicago, but it was strange being on a Russian plane full of Russians. We were running around trying to get to our various airports and so relieved to finally be on our way. When we sat back in our chairs, seats in an upright and locked position and prepared for take off, it suddenly hit all of us. No one spoke English. The signs, emergency preparedness cards, magazines - were all in Russian. Our exit from the States had been very swift. It was the beginning of what we knew would be a completely foreign experience.
Aeroflot still uses some of the ex-Soviet military planes for passengers. We had a plane with a 12 foot ceiling. It looked as if they had back out the army tanks and bolted in some rows of chairs. Frightening. The food was worse. As some odd nod to our final desitination, the chicken option on the flight was curried. Well a not-so-close Russian approximation of what they thought curry must be like.
We arrived in Moscow over 8 hours after leaving NYC. For us it was 2:30 in the morning but in Moscow it was 10:30 am. We were bedraggled and delirious. After negotiating customs we settled in to finding a Russian equivalent of coffee. Half-way to the cafe it dawned on us that we only had 2 of the 3 camera cases we were supposed to have. It must have seemed strange to the crowds of smoking Russians buying duty free perfume and Johnny Walker Scotch to see us sprinting back through the terminal. Shockingly the surly Russian military woman working the customs desk let us run back to our plane. She rolled her eyes and said that it was locked but one of us could try. I jumped towards the gate and pounded on the door for the workers I could see down the gate hallway leading to the airplane entrance. They looked and walked away. I wasn't getting back on the plane. Our customs officer 'friend' realized she should be hassling us more and shooed us the transit office to register a complaint. This was looking bad. On the way to the office we discussed possibly replacing the film that was in the case forgotten in the overhead compartment. We knew that medium format film would be hard to come by. It occured to me that we just might able to asked the military officers if they could find any film for us. I suspected that they might be able to find the exact type and quantity that we lost and probably even have a prelabeled bag for us. We also considered the unpleasantness of the Russian jails and rethuoght this strategy. The folks at the transit office, an office for just this type of traveler situation, seemed mildly angry that we were bothering them. Turns out the whole thing appeared too fishy for them. Security found the missing case but weren't liking the looks of things. Michael had to go and watch them search it and vouch for it's purpose. We got the film back and enjoyed a little repast.
After this incident we each took ownership of one of the bags. This wasn't going to happen again, we were making sure of this.
Our flight from Moscow to Delhi was another 7 hours. This put is well into the evening of the 26th, India time. An odd thing happens to Delhi each end of December. Delhi likes to shroud itself completely in fog. This wasn't good. We circled Delhi for awhile and they finally diverted us to Mombai. It was frustrating because not speaking Russian, we had very little information to go on. Mombai (Bombay) is a few hours south by plane. On the one had it was closer to our final destination, Kochi, on the other, we hadn't entered immigration yet and probably couldn't leave the airport.
We arrived at nearly midnight and began one of the most uncomfortable nights of the trip. Aeroflot said we'd get back on the plane and return north to Delhi when they heard that the fog had cleared. The Mombai International terminal is a pit of dispair. There is very little to eat. Very few places you'd want to sit. And we couldn't find an Aeroflot representative or get a straight answer from anyone.
Team Good Korma was in a sorry state. We hadn't slept in over a day and were clearly feeling the depths of exhaustion that comes from 24 hours of travel.
At around 2 in the morning we got a free dinner from Aeroflot. Our excited plane load of passengers headed for the restaurant, only to find that "dinner" was a single, small fried vegetable thingie, a handful of potato chips, and ketchup.
Around 4am there was a near riot because no one could get an answer as to when we were leaving. Unlike many other airports, there were no ticketing desks where we were at. There was no place to go to make a stink. The very occasional official looking person that happen to walk by was immediately surround by screaming people. It was getting ugly.
I could go on and on, but long story short, we left for Delhi the next day at 2pm. We were on day 3 of our trip and we were heading away from where we need to be.
Anthony
ok, so here is the first update.
I was going to write a fairly lengthy episode full of brilliant witticisms and wry observations about our adventures but my brain is coated by a thick layer of what can only be described as roofing tar.
India is intense.
our experiences so far have been some of the most difficult and amazing ones we've ever had. the only thing you must keep in mind here is that you must surrender to the country and that any planning is simply impossible.
that being said.. we are making headyway. the population treats us like rock stars wherever we go and our rickshaw driving skills are quite good at this point minus the episode where I hit the walls of the lot where we picked up the rickshaws. At least BOTH fenders are dented so there's a bit of symmetry there.
the going is slow though and it seems that with only 2 weeks in front of us, darjeeling may be unnatainable but We'lll motor on and do our best.
not sure where we'll be on new years but you'll all be in our thoughts.
this place is crazy!
Adam
I was going to write a fairly lengthy episode full of brilliant witticisms and wry observations about our adventures but my brain is coated by a thick layer of what can only be described as roofing tar.
India is intense.
our experiences so far have been some of the most difficult and amazing ones we've ever had. the only thing you must keep in mind here is that you must surrender to the country and that any planning is simply impossible.
that being said.. we are making headyway. the population treats us like rock stars wherever we go and our rickshaw driving skills are quite good at this point minus the episode where I hit the walls of the lot where we picked up the rickshaws. At least BOTH fenders are dented so there's a bit of symmetry there.
the going is slow though and it seems that with only 2 weeks in front of us, darjeeling may be unnatainable but We'lll motor on and do our best.
not sure where we'll be on new years but you'll all be in our thoughts.
this place is crazy!
Adam
Monday, December 25, 2006
...of buttered rum and hangar steak with mashed potatos...
we're in the final hours now before liftoff and I just wanted to wish everyone well for the holidays and thank everyone for their incredible support. I feel incredibly grateful every time someone asks me not to die.
happy holidays!
happy holidays!
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Mouse brains, Spicy Curry, Mad Confusion
Everyone keeps asking if I am excited and if I'm all ready. The obvious answer is Yes and No. Loudly.
I can't believe what Team Good Korma is about to embark on. Dang. We are nuts.
Secondly I have no idea how to prepare for this. According to folks in the know, you can't prepare. It's India and we are attempting to cross vast swaths of it on a pair of shiny autorickshaws. How can you prepare? Yes, we've all had our shots. Many. No seriously, MANY.
The Japenese Encephalitis shots are made from infected, freeze dried, ground mouse brains. Yummy. A coworker was so impressed that he thinks I should update my resume.
I may.
One of the bonuses to getting shot up with infected mouse brains, other then bragging rights, are the friggingly intense dreams. Not like the kind you had in Junior High about the cute brunette in Social Studies Class. No, the kind where you are sitting in your living room watching a movie and you realize the sofa is eating you. You go to scream and your popcorn is forcing itself down your throat, drowning out your cries for help. Just then the end table comes to life and is climbing up your back beating you about the head and shoulders. I've heard the malaria meds have the same Hunter S. Thompson quality to them.
I start those tomorrow...
Naturally we are geared up as much as possible too. We have the minty fresh, new auto rickshaws, camping stuff aplenty, power bars, jerky, insect repellants, mosquito netting, lots of layers of clothes, even wire mesh security bags to lock our stuff to our vehicles. We are physically ready. Spiritually is another thing altogether.
Our phsycological well-being is the only gapping hole in this enterprise. One setting off for unknown parts of India hears such stories. The elephants on the highways, the insanity on the roads, the utter lack of what we'd call sanitation in the restrooms, how to avoid eating things that have touched water, how not to stumble upon bandits, crooked policemen, cobras, or social unrest. I had dinner with my godson last night and he urged me multiple times to "not die." He just kept saying it and I just kept smiling.
Another coworker just told be about the "bobble-head" phenomenon. It seems that when someone in India, usually in a service industry or bureaucratic occupation doesn't want to deal with you, they start "bobbling", for lack of a better descriptive term, their heads. It's kind of a side to side, loose-necked wobble. How fun.
In a short matter of days, hours if you want to break it down to the experiential level, we'll be heading to Moscow to begin our journey. Who knows what we have in store for us. You can be sure to read about it here though. See you soon.
Anthony //
I can't believe what Team Good Korma is about to embark on. Dang. We are nuts.
Secondly I have no idea how to prepare for this. According to folks in the know, you can't prepare. It's India and we are attempting to cross vast swaths of it on a pair of shiny autorickshaws. How can you prepare? Yes, we've all had our shots. Many. No seriously, MANY.
The Japenese Encephalitis shots are made from infected, freeze dried, ground mouse brains. Yummy. A coworker was so impressed that he thinks I should update my resume.
I may.
One of the bonuses to getting shot up with infected mouse brains, other then bragging rights, are the friggingly intense dreams. Not like the kind you had in Junior High about the cute brunette in Social Studies Class. No, the kind where you are sitting in your living room watching a movie and you realize the sofa is eating you. You go to scream and your popcorn is forcing itself down your throat, drowning out your cries for help. Just then the end table comes to life and is climbing up your back beating you about the head and shoulders. I've heard the malaria meds have the same Hunter S. Thompson quality to them.
I start those tomorrow...
Naturally we are geared up as much as possible too. We have the minty fresh, new auto rickshaws, camping stuff aplenty, power bars, jerky, insect repellants, mosquito netting, lots of layers of clothes, even wire mesh security bags to lock our stuff to our vehicles. We are physically ready. Spiritually is another thing altogether.
Our phsycological well-being is the only gapping hole in this enterprise. One setting off for unknown parts of India hears such stories. The elephants on the highways, the insanity on the roads, the utter lack of what we'd call sanitation in the restrooms, how to avoid eating things that have touched water, how not to stumble upon bandits, crooked policemen, cobras, or social unrest. I had dinner with my godson last night and he urged me multiple times to "not die." He just kept saying it and I just kept smiling.
Another coworker just told be about the "bobble-head" phenomenon. It seems that when someone in India, usually in a service industry or bureaucratic occupation doesn't want to deal with you, they start "bobbling", for lack of a better descriptive term, their heads. It's kind of a side to side, loose-necked wobble. How fun.
In a short matter of days, hours if you want to break it down to the experiential level, we'll be heading to Moscow to begin our journey. Who knows what we have in store for us. You can be sure to read about it here though. See you soon.
Anthony //
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
What's Even Better Than One Rickshaw....?!
So as I was thinking the other night about our crazy adventure and as I was looking at our incredibly generous donations total, the silver thread of an idea began to spin... See, the rickshaw's cost approx. $1300.00. Thanks to all of our friends, family and sponsors we are over the $3,000.00 mark! Now, I'm no rocket scientist, or even a rickshaw engineer, but I was able to deduce, without any assistance from any electronic computing device, that we clearly had enough money to buy TWO RICKSHAWS!
So I ask again: What's Even Better Than One Rickshaw..?!
Yes it's true!! thanks to everyone's generosity, we will be hitting the road in a pair of tricked out rickshaws which will afford us much more room for our equipment and portable microwave as well the peace of mind that if the roof blows off of one of the rickshaws we've got the backup to keep us moving!
oh and the two rickshaws should make great anchors for our hammocks on the side of the road.
More exciting news to come!!
A-
So I ask again: What's Even Better Than One Rickshaw..?!
Yes it's true!! thanks to everyone's generosity, we will be hitting the road in a pair of tricked out rickshaws which will afford us much more room for our equipment and portable microwave as well the peace of mind that if the roof blows off of one of the rickshaws we've got the backup to keep us moving!
oh and the two rickshaws should make great anchors for our hammocks on the side of the road.
More exciting news to come!!
A-
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