another cliché
travel blog

Get up and out, grab a what looks like a veggie turnover, and eat it in front of the guest house. Girl passes by, asking where I got it. Start talking. She got to India two days ago, and mcleodganj less than an hour ago. She decides to join my trek.

We trek the day, then get to a little village that evening. We hang around for a bit,my then our guide takes us around the village to meet his brother and his family. They’re adorable and invite us to a dance that night in honor of another villager’s upcoming marriage.

We eat dinner. That was a hell of an experience. Write more about it.

After dinner, Catherine decides it’s bed time, so she passes out, mr. John and I watch a bit of cricket with the local school teacher, then head to the dance.

I saw a twelve year old boy from a tiny village in the Himalayas that probably has no more than 1,000 USD pass through it a year make it rain. We danced.

I went to bed. Then they played delhiwali girlfriend.

Things you need

1. Photocopy of your passport*
2. A passport photo
3. A copy of your visa*
4. Your home address in the US
5. Your father’s name

*if you don’t have copies of those, they may have a photocopier there. Or they may not.

The process

1. Have an unlocked phone
2. Find a shop that sells SIM cards. Vodaphone and idea both seem reliable.
3. Tell them you want a SIM
4. They’ll ask you for a copy of your passport, a passport photo, your visa, and then your home address (i.e. not in India) and your father’s name.
5. SIM cards cost Rs. 150. and data is roughly Rs. 150/Gb. Tell them how much you want.
6. They’ll give you your SIM card. SIM cards come in different sizes, but larger cards can be cut down to smaller sizes. If you’re not sure what size SIM card you need, ask and they can check for you by taking out your current SIM card. Be sure to keep track of your current SIM card—you’ll need it when you get back home.
7. The shop will give you a phone number to call in about a day. Until you call this number, your phone will have signal, but you’ll only be able to make emergency calls.
8. The next evening, call the number they gave you. Generally, the person on the other line will speak enough English to understand that you’re a foreigner and will transfer you to someone else who deals with foreign SIM activations. Just stay on the line until you get someone who speaks English. They will ask you for your name, address, and your father’s name.
9. You’re done! It can take anywhere from a few minutes to several hours to get full service.

It’s funny. Right as the flight attendant announced the decent, I realized I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m going from one city to another. I don’t know where, exactly, I headed, other than “it’s near a water tank”. I’m not sure where I’m supposed to be tomorrow morning, or when. I’m flying into an airport that’s probably about the size of the Santa Rosa Airport, and probably has fuck all facilities.

And the hardest part about it is I’m alone. No one to struggle through this with, no one familiar. No internet, unless I can find wifi, so no one I can even talk with stateside. Which, want difference would it make? I’d still be struggling through the same issues. Not too far from monkeys, are we?

Then I saw this:

And I figured, eh, it’s going to be fine. This is what I came for, it’s gonna work out.

And work out it did. I got off the plane (it was 70 something and sunny), and into the airport, which, as expected, was about as elaborate as STS. No wifi. I don’t like it. Off to a bad start. Walked out hoping to see a cab, but no luck. Well shit. Tried to walk back in the airport. The nice army man with an assault rifle said no, just after I walked out. I didn’t even leave his field of view. This is going swimmingly.

I walked further away from the airport, hoping that I could figure out which way “town” was and could find a taxi. Passing through the barricade, I hear “taxi, taxi” and my ears perk up. Of course he notices and comes running over. McLeod ganj? 800. Non negotiable. See, it’s written right here on paper.

Well, at least I got a ride to McLeod ganj. On the way, we pass by a cell phone store, so manage to communicate to my driver that I need to stop, he pulls over, and I get a SIM card. Hopefully, this leads to data.

Make it to McLeod ganj, and start wandering. Find myself a cafe that if I woke up in, I would assume was in Berkeley, at least till I got a good look out the window. The sound of milk foaming, burnt coffee, and hippies. Home. I get on wifi, and start getting my bearings. I decide on a game plan and pay my bill. The waiter asks where I’m staying and I tell him I was just about to find out. He shows me a couple rooms they have at a reasonable price, so I bite. And within an hour of landing a city away, and $20 later, I have a ride to the right place, a room, and a cup of ginger honey tea. Not bad.

I drop my stuff and wander some more. I get water. Then I get 16 veggie momos. For 80IND. So, awesome. I prep my bag for the next day, and crawl into bed to do so,e reading before passing out. fireworks have been going off all day, but then they start to pick up. First I just figure it’s just because it’s dark. Then I realize. Fuck. It’s Chinese New Year. Which is Tibetan new year, aka losar, which is why all those “happy losar” banners were hung up. I struggle between girls in blindfolds and comfort, and eventfully convince myself I have to prove it to me nothing’s going on. So I get up, throw on a jacket and wander. After wandering for 15 minutes, I managed to convince myself I wasn’t missing anything (I wasn’t, steets were deserted, shops were closed), and crawled back in bed and passed out.

Today was the only day without dancing! After a fairly quiet morning inside that castle, we made it over to the Air Force Auditorium lawn around 2:15. It took us about an extra half hour to forty minutes because only Air Force personnel and their families are allowed on the base, which Uber tried to route us through, rather than staying on the freeway a bit longer and going around. Eh. It’s much more difficult to argue with someone while they’re holding onto an assault rifle.

But once we did get there, it was positively sedate in contrast to the other days. More food than three times the number of guests could eat, Thai, Chinese, American, continental, and northern Indian, plus a dessert bar with all kinds of stuff, appetizers being passed, chaiwala, and a full bar including a bunch of mocktails.

That night, I got packed for the next week (five days hiking in the Himalayas) and booked flights to Kovalam beach from Dharamshala.

I was planning on heading to the afterparty, but things fell through. So it is.

Tied the knot. Or walked around the book for times. Whatever.

Following the ceremony, we went back to the Mapple for food. And drinking. And dancing.

At one point Katie and I took a break and marveled at how awesome it is that everyone in India dances. It’s just a thing you do.

After everyone recovered from the previous night, we gathered at e Hotel Mapple (with an extra ‘p’ because India) for medhi, aka henna. Natasha, the poor thing, had been up since 8 getting rubbed down with something that is supposed to make her skin glow, and only after that could she start getting ready. So by 11 or so when everyone showed up, she was just starting go get henna’d. Both Hands up most of her forearm, and both feel well up her calves. The guys doing it were incredibly quick and able to create amazing patterns on the fly. Each one is different. On one hand, they hid the letters to Aditya’s name, and on the other Natasha’s. Evidently it’s some game for him to find them. I kind of expected that medhi was some sacred ceremony, but from what I gathered, it’s basically just there to be pretty. What became increasingly apparent about India is that what matters is that you do it, not that its’ solemn, or sacred, or done well. Just that it gets throb done sufficiently.

As far as I could tell, the party is basically the to keep Natasha fed and entertained while the henna dries, which takes a couple hours. So, ere was copious amounts of food and some music.

Out of nowhere, some intense drumming started and the groomsmen and the drummers appeared. Through some sort of call and response that no one seemed to quite understand fully, different groups of people were called out to dance. Of course the google crew was one of them, but we had to be told.

After Medhi, we all went back to the hotel and took care of work stuff till ten, then walked over to Kingdom of Dreams for dinner. Imagine The Venetian in Vegas, but completely deserted. Vaguely unsettling.

##the day Don’t remember. Will try to unforget.

##the dance So much god damn fun!

Invitation said things started at 8, but we arrived at 8:30 and were some of the first guests. So, we got a drink, a bit of food, half ass practiced once, then talked with people. Met Samir, who lives in Carmel valley with his wife Jen, and Twins Connor and….trouble.

The dance went off amazingly. We totally messed up, but it was soooo much fun. Everyone had a great time. Embarrassed the hell out of Natasha.

One of the dances was by four women, I think all aunts of some sort, that Natasha choreographed. I was told it was “very Punjabi” and was basically just talking shit about nNatasha’s mother in law. Which is hilarious, because I understand they have a great relationship.

At some point during the evening, the banquet hal opened up and started serving enough food for twice the number of guests. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that trend would continue through the end of the weekend.

From there, we danced and drank until two am, after the DJ shut down for the third time, but this time for real because security came in and made it clear this needed to stop. So we sat around eating and bullshitting till three thirty, and I caught a ride back to the hotel and promptly passed out.

Work in the morning, dance practice mid day, then a subway ride out to Lodi Gardens.

Couples everywhere.

Then, almond bread pudding, a “Cunning Stunt” (champagne, whiskey, vodka, and mediocrity). I’m guessing the place was run by Brits who think they have a sense of humor.

Lots of western music, including numerous covers. I was amused.

Fell into the rhythm, slow mornings, then an outing in the afternoon/evening. Today, I hung out by the pool and worked, then around two, we took the subway out to greater Kailash and went shopping. The metro station was about two miles from the shopping district, so we took an auto rickshaw (tutu I if we were in Thailand) after walking through AIIMS (All India Instutitue of Medical Science) which is near I.I.T.

After shopping, we grabbed some food at a bar called Laidback (stylized with the first ‘a’ on it’s spine), then took the metro back to our hotel. Everyone was passed out by 10.

Grabbed breakfast in the morning and ran into Nancy in the lobby. We got her statues, then got food.

Bethany and I worked till almost 5, then we grabbed an Uber out to Haus Kanz, a cute little district.

Around 8, Bethany, Andy, and Nancy headed back to the hotel via metro, and I stayed and did s bit more window shopping. Ended up grabbing a kingfisher in a bar called Maquina, which was all done up to look like the cabin of an airship. There was some live music, but all told it wasn’t enough to justify the Rs. 500 for the kingfisher. Oh well.

Caught an Uber back to the hotel and passed out.