Hi there,

The unsuccessful attempt to upload photos continues. I'm very frustrated. Now that we're back in Delhi, I'll try again to find a wireless cafe, since the connection isn't fast enough on MN's fiance's broadband line. I just spent an hour downloading my photos onto his computer but Blogger won't let me upload. I don't get it.

Anyway, yes, we're back in Delhi. Midday Monday & I'm still in my sleeping clothes! It's nice to have a slow day. We'll go out to lunch with MN's fiance and then head out to celebrate AJ's birthday with her family in Rohini.

We left Jaipur & drove out to Pushkar on Sunday morning. It's a quaint little village -- all vegetarian! -- nestled into a tiny range of hills with a holy lake and lots of ghats (ritual bathing sites used by Hindus). It's also completely overrun with tourists. In particular, with Israelis just out of their military service and with dreadlocked "seekers" out to find all the answers in India. I felt really uncomfortable with so many tourists buying & buying & buying. The whole economy is centered around them. Around us. JW wisely reminded me that we're not that far removed from the hippies & the hash buyers, really. No matter how much I might like to be.

Anyway, we grabbed lunch -- veggie cutlets & sandwich & lassis -- and then wandered along the bazaar and out to the lake. Back to the bazaar again, then up to one of the few Brahma temples in the country. We left our shoes outside, grabbed some flowers & went up the steep steps to make our offering. The marble slabs all over the temple were dedicated to dead loved ones. I couldn't help but think of Morgan as we waited to deposit the flowers. A few old women begged behind the temple "altar." As we descended down the stairs, I saw one old woman walking on hands and feet one-at-a-time up the steep steps to take her turn at the temple. It was obviously incredibly painful for her. Back down to our shoes, which were still there.

I realized that at the bazaars, all the fabric is such a sensory delight that I find myself staring at it, rather than the shopkeepers. I guess part of that is that I don't want to engage with them and start the whole "Namaste, ma'am! Ma'am! To look doesn't mean to buy! Don't you want ___?" process. Sounds so world-weary to say it, but it gets exhausting to do that 50 times over.

We were captivated by one shopkeeper, though, who didn't bother with all that. He hand-paints his t-shirts, and the ones that don't have mushrooms or naked ladies on them are really beautiful. All kinds of variations of Ganesh. The artist took time to talk to us about his village outside Pushkar & his belief that education is the key to improving life & health for people in rural India. He was a gentle man & it was really nice to have a conversation that didn't center around the exchange of money (even though that was obviously why we stopped at his shop in the first place).

We had dinner at a restaurant overlooking the lake, then walked back in the dark to the Jagat Singh Palace. This place is formal & fancy. Much more so than the Diggi Palace in Jaipur. It felt awkward & uncomfortable for both JW & me to be staying in such a luxurious place. But it sure was pretty. Surinder Singh, the driver, was there to greet us. Scolded us for being out too late & said he had worry in his heart. (I think we freaked him out in Jaipur when we disappeared for the hot-air balloon ride & he thought we'd been abducted by "tour guides" out to bleed us dry. He apparently called MN in a panic...)

I woke up early on Sunday & slipped out to the balcony to record the bells & startup of morning traffic. Just caught the transition time on tape.

Then we decided to leave Pushkar, head out to Barefoot College to do my story & then head back toward Delhi. Didn't make sense to backtrack, & neither JW nor I wanted to deal with another day in tourist central. So we drove maybe 60 km out to Tilonia, which was a few kilometers off the main highway. I found the American volunteer I'd spoken with on the phone a few days earlier, & interviewed her. Then we talked with a guy named Ram who is in charge of the rainwater catchment program & the women's groups. Thick accent; not sure how much of the tape is useable. Broke for lunch (dal, veggie curry, chapati & rice, eaten off a tin plate while sitting on the floor -- a breath of fresh air after the fancy palace breakfast), then stopped by the craft store to buy a few more holiday gifts. Then back to touring the old & new campuses.

Barefoot College seems to be one of the few places I've seen in India where hierarchy isn't key. Everyone has knowledge & skills to share. Everyone is welcome. They've got a number of programs in place. Rainwater catchment -- using gutters on school rooftops to collect water in an underground tank for drinking & cooking. Reusing wastewater for agricultural fields. (The same kind of stuff we did in Peace Corps.) Health programs. Training midwives. Combining homeopathic & allopathic medicines to treat various ailments. Solar training -- and this is what I think will make an interesting story. They actually bring in groups of people from other countries (Mali, The Gambia, Sierra Leone, Bolivia, Afghanistan & Bhutan among them) to train on how to solarize their villages & then go back & pass on the knowledge. We met the Bhutanese group. Toy making. Handicraft making. Weaving. Hooking rugs. Using waste products toothpaste containers, boxes, etc.) to make more kids' toys. I was really impressed with the creativity I saw there.

We left after five hours & decided to make the long drive back to Delhi. I hadn't had any water all day & was feeling that manic sort of Westerner/tourist guilt, so I brooded in the backseat for a while. Stopped for water & biscuits & I felt much better. It took us almost 7 hours to get back to Delhi. Truck traffic was horrendous, despite Surinder Singh's amazing driving skills. He laughed at us as we tried out Hindi & Punjabi phrases. Even called his wife & put JW on the phone to show off how much/little we know. We arrived at MN's fiance's flat & here we are.

I'll keep trying with these photos. Bear with me. I hope you're all well!

S.