Varanasi- 'A Festival Every Day'

Guest House Concierge: 'You can get the boat tomorrow morning at 5:30. There is a festival at that time.'

Ben: 'Oh, wow. We're lucky. What good timing!'

Guest House Concierge: 'Yes. Actually, there is a festival every day.'

Part 1: The Good Luck Man

I was smiling smugly to myself on the way to Varanasi from the airport around noon on Saturday. I had forgotten one of the many printed itinerary sheets at work in the midst of scouring my iTunes to reassess my opinion of Jay-Z. These print-outs are vital to navigating Indian airports, and by forgetting one, I nearly got Carrie and me stuck in Delhi, halfway to our destination.

I had rushed to no fewer than 5 desks alternately trying winning smiles, a brusque business-like manner and angry swearing at the airline officials. In the end, I ended up in Executive Class eating something like taquitos, which Carrie, the responsible one, has been craving since our first week in India. She checked in early online, sat in economy, and had a sandwich.

I was thinking about this when our taxi driver pulled over and called out to turbaned man walking in the street. The man came up to the car and began chanting, placing a bindi on our driver's head and wrapping yellow and red strings around his wrist. He then repeated this with Carrie and me, stopping occasionally to collect a few rupies tip.

As we drove away, the driver turned back to us to tell us that this was the 'good luck man.'

Then, we screeched to a halt to barely avoid hitting a dog, leading me to think I should have tipped more.

Happy Valley - Darjeeling

The Road to Heaven

Hurtling down the road at breakneck speed, dodging cows, bicycles and pedestrians that appeared without warning from the darkness and then jolting to the side as our jeep turned a hairpin turn up the poorly maintained, narrow mountain road to Darjeeling, I began to mentally calculate the odds of making it to the hotel alive. I might have asked my driver for his opinion, but he was busy steering one handed as he chatted on the phone. I put it at about 3 to 1 against.

This being the case, I began to prepare for a survival situation. Fortunately, Carrie was trained as a combat life saver, so that would be useful. I also began to steel myself mentally for climbing back up to the road with a concussion and one or two severed limbs. Did I remember how to pray? Let's see... 'Our Father, who art...um, full of grace. Thanks for the shot at life and everything. Listen, sorry about the tequila and resulting actions. Maybe see you soon. Amen.'

Happy Valley

By the time we were drinking tea in a shack the next morning with a Czech, some Aussies, and a somewhat crazy old woman, Darjeeling was quickly becoming my favorite place in India so far. We had just finished our tour of the aptly named Happy Valley Tea plantation, and the Czech was telling us she would prefer to ride on top of the jeep so she could jump off if it decided to topple over the cliff. It was a charmingly terrible idea.

Having paid the old lady for some bootlegged top-shelf tea, we were on our way to see the Tibetan Refugee Center, have tea at the posh Elgin Hotel, drive to foggy Tiger Hill (at apparently the worst time of day to see scenic vistas), visit some awesome Tibetan monasteries, watch a political rally for a free Ghorkaland, pay our respects to the holy, shrine covered Observatory Hill, and return to watch some Diwali celebrations from our window.

Unfortunately, my camera stopped working for the weekend, and my g-phone pictures don't really do the town justice, but the mountains and smiling people made for a great time this weekend.

Dear Abhi

When Carrie and I have a question about travel, culture, finding things in Hyderabad, or life in general, we turn to our coworker, Abhirami. Below, I have paraphrased some interactions:

Dear Abhi, I just got to India. What should I do? -Jetlagged in Jaipur

Dear Jetlagged, Don't worry, I have already set up your desk, and ordered a mobile phone for you. Please join us for the lunch I arranged in honor of your arrival at one of my favorite South Indian restaurants. I will be checking in regularly to make sure you are comfortable. -Abhi

Dear Abhi, my batteries are not charging, where can I get replacements?- Depleted in Delhi

Dear Depleted, Let me talk to your driver, and I will direct him to the newest mall in Hyderabad, where you can get batteries and anything else in the world.

Dear Abhi, When I travel, people want their picture with me. Is this because I look like famous Bollywood actor Shah Rukh Khan as I was told by an autorickshaw driver?- Klueless in Kerala

Dear Klueless, Actually it's spelled clueless. I would know because I am fluent in 5 languages. You actually don't look like Shah Rukh Khan. Rather you look like a less famous and less attractive Indian actor, whose picture I will send you.

Sear Abhi, Like many travelers to India, I can't quite figure out the head bobble. What's that all about? -Confounded in Kolkata

Dear Confounded, Your spelling has improved! Nodding means yes. Shaking one's head means no. Bobbling can mean anything else. When you ask for something, and someone bobbles, that probably means 'I'll take care of it.' If you are talking to someone, it could mean 'maybe' or 'I'm listening.' There are a thousand different meanings depending on frequency, pattern, and amplitude of the bobble, so I wouldn't worry about it too much.

Dear Abhi, What is the meaning of life? -Pondering in Pondicherry

Dear Pondering, [Bobbles head]

'Ben's Holidays' or 'The Backwaters Treatment for Grumpiness'

Though it's hard to recall in hindsight, looking back at my notes, it looks like the relaxing weekend in Kerala got off to a rough start. There was a lot of traffic coming in to Cochin from the airport, and it was nearly 2 hours before we reached the hotel. I tried to keep my spirits up by counting signs for jewelry stores and contemplating the delightful script of Malayalam, the local language.

But before I arrived the hotel, I was complaining to my notebook that our driver was 'technically speaking, the worst driver we have had. He seems to deliberately play chicken with trucks and larger cars.' My irritation was not offset by the stimulating conversation: 'and his English was somewhere between incomprehensible and non-existent,' I recorded.

The next morning, I awoke a little before 8:30 to a phone call letting us know breakfast was ready. Though I was delighted that the call was punctual, when we got downstairs I quickly realized I had misinterpreted the word 'ready' and it was actually going to be a while before we ate.

Now, some people believe that moods are altered by outside circumstances, and some believe that your mood is a choice you can make. I, through careful experimentation, have determined that one's mood is actually a result of how much caffeine one has in one's bloodstream. So when the tea arrived a mere 20 minutes later, I was able to regain some semblance of humor and good cheer.

After a drive through the beautiful Keralan countryside, we arrived at the boat to coconut juice and friendly staff. By the time the boat had pulled away from the dock, I had achieved Nirvana, a spiritual state an Indian prince first discovered centuries ago in which good mood transcends worldly caffeination.

For the rest of the weekend, we took photos, read our books and ate delicious South Indian food as we made our way slowly down the backwater canals. I even spotted a boat named after my weekend (photo link to come soon)!

Saturday night, I went fishing with a bamboo rod that the staff found for me onboard, and caught what could possibly be a freshwater relative of the Great White Shark (photo link coming soon)! Worried that I was putting this rare species at risk, I returned it to the deep, and instead feasted on the lobster provided by the crew.

On Sunday, our boat returned and we hopped in the taxi for our return to the airport. Thoroughly relaxed, I was unfazed as we careened in and out of traffic, avoiding head-on collisions by inches, and I cheerfully agreed with whatever our driver was saying. When our plane was delayed, and the tea at the airport restaurant was slow to arrive, I smiled and welcomed it as an opportunity to relax and finish my book...

The Mission

Andrew set me a mission before I left. I was to get photos of the following things in India: me drinking masala chai, a family on a motorcycle, a cow and me riding on an elephant. I have gotten all of these except me riding on an elephant, which I actually has not specifically planned to do. But this is India, so it may just happen accidentally. As for cows, well.... we saw plenty.

The Jet Lag Days

It has been a whirlwind few days since I arrived in India early Thursday morning. I worked for most of the day, but left early to catch a flight straight to Dehli for the long weekend. Here are some first thoughts

'A New Delhi Every Day' -

-Delhi Airport advertisement

Wher as I wasn't there long enough to really judge the veracity of this statement, I had to appreciate the good copy. But, in fact, at our pace, for the two days we were there Delhi seemed to reinvent itself every few minutes.

You could stumble over a pile of rubble and into the swank United Coffee House . You could hop over sleeping beggars and fight off unscrupulous 'travel agents' near New Delhi Train Station and then find yourself walking serenely through the Red Fort gardens. You could be walking quickly through a slum, and then find yourself at the gates of the enormous and elegant Jama Masjid. Rickshaw drivers could be crooks and lie about museums being closed to take you to their friend's craft shop or they could be your best friends, joking about monkeys and cows having a place in Democratic India, or telling you that you resemble a Bollywood super star ( you decide: Ben Clark, Shah Rukh Khan).

Delhi was a trip, but a fun trip all in all. Other highlights included the must-see Qutb Minar, the Lodi Gardens, the National Museum, and Humayun's tomb.

The White Marble Anniversary

Sipping a newspaper wrapped beer, I watched the last light disappear over the Taj Mahal. There are some landmarks in a couple's love: going steady, the first kiss, the 'L' bomb, the engagement ring, something made of gold after 25 years. But Shah Jahan was the only person in the history of the world to take 20 years to create a monument to his wife that ranks with the most iconic buildings of all time, and that, hundreds of years later, people from all around the world still flock to in order to snap novelty photos of them pretending to hold up the building from its cupola. The Taj Mahal has to win as the most enduring symbol of love in human history.

The ambition and romance of the Taj appeals to me and I I should try to out do it. But being a bachelor, I would have to chose one of these three loves for the subject of my monument.

In all seriousness, the Taj Mahal was worth all the hype. It is a beautiful building with a good story. When we were having our beers on the roof top, I kept on saying to Carrie 'I can't believe I am having a beer and looking at the Taj Mahal. I. Am. Sitting on a rooftop. Having a beer. Looking at the Taj Mahal!'

Prelude: Lufthansa Fluggesellschaften

I remember from my time in England that, whereas in America the customer is always right, as you approach Europe, his chances of being right can fall to the mid-teens.

I was reminded of this when my viewing of 'The Tale of Despereux' was interrupted by the eastern European gentleman sitting next to me indicating to the flight attendant that he hadn't been brought the wine he had asked for.

'I call you "red wine!"' he said. The German flight attendant was having none of it.

'You nevah forget somesing?!' he responded, leaning towards the man across me, causing me to tilt my head to keep track of Despereux.

The eastern European man tried to protest, but didn't have enough English to keep up.

'OK, I vill get you a red wine, sir. Anysing else? Champaign from fust clahss? No? OK. And zat is no way to speak to a servuh, suh.' he said, waving his finger like Sacha Baron Cohen's Bruno saying 'Ich don't think so' and went to fetch the wine.

Later, as I was boarding the plane in Frankfurt to Hyderabad, I had a glimpse of the transportation chaos I was to later experience in India when my fellow passengers juggled children and luggage, shoving and changing seats. The efficient German flight attendants strode, exasperated, from seat to seat trying to calm the storm .

Seeking some vestige of Teutonic sanity, they always spoke to Carrie and me in German rather than the English they used on the Indian nationals. Seeing the desperation in their eyes, I wanted to help. But when I heard something like 'vegetarian' in their question, and guessed they were asking my meal preference, the best I could do was to answer:

'Er. Nein. The chicken...bitte.'