THE PHOTO FINISH

 A few family photos to end the blog with:

Cousin Parvina

Simon and Aunt Selima

Geela, Sabrina, me, Grandma, Simon and uncle Ramazan.
Yes, Geela's mother and I spend a lot of time holding hands.

Uncle Parvase, Sabrina, me, Grandma, and Saba (wife to Parvase and mother to Horis and Madi-ka)

This is the photo finish- I am sure you  are all as tired of me as Madi-ka is.

gone fishing

The two men in the middle are fishing officers that ensure that  you are fishing  legally-
according to the limitations outlined in your (expensive) licence.

Wild sedum- Who knew?

Five of the final seven.

gardens of Srinigar

the kids from the lake

Halif (an Urdu name meaning mouth like a trucker maybe) is Simon's cousin's son.  He spends his days chucking things in the lake and fishing  them out.  

This sweet photo was taken just before he threw his shoes in the water.

Halif's sister, Cera and cousin Ho(a)ris.

Horis's sister, baby Madi-ka (sp?) was born in January.  She giggles all of the time- even in her sleep.  Here she is wearing a lacy new dress over her sweater because it is cold in the unheated house..

more photos, less plot

I have decide to post a few more photos for people.

These show the interior of the family houseboat in Kashmir.  It has a sitting room, a dining room, 3 bedrooms (doors on the right side of the hallway pictured below) and a small butlers kitchen for food service.

end of the road

I am always amazed by how annoyed people are with the fact that I am camera shy.   I am even more shocked at how much time people are willing to invest in complaining to me about my irritating defect.  In one such conversation a friend explained to me that you always have to put yourself in travel photos to prove to people that you were really there (People thought that I was making things up?).

There have been endless requests for me to post a personal photo on the blog- perhaps from people who, according to this line of logic, suspect that I sent my of me 15 year old to Asia unattended.  So, in this last post I am finally bowing to pressure and posting a photo of myself to prove that I was actually in Asia in 2012-13 with him.

Simon snapped this photo of me at the Taj Mahal when I  wasn't looking
(that is me on the left-actually at the Taj Mahal for real).

This is the end of the road for us, so we will be packing in the blog until our next adventure.

Until then......HAPPY TRAILS TO YOU TOO!

the long journey home

00:00 Hours

12:15 pm  Drive to airport.  It was a lovely drive crammed in to an economy sized car with Simon’s dad, his two uncles and a family friend.  Our luggage helped to make this a cozy journey all the way to the final military check point on the edge of the airfield where all passengers without a boarding pass were required to leave the vehicle.  At this point Simon and I had our luggage x-rayed and received our first patdown of the day here before entering the airport property.  We then loaded back in the car to drive several minutes to the actual airport building. 

One of several airport security cats that patrol the Srinigar airport.

We said goodbye to Geela outside the airport building (because he was not allowed to enter the airport building) and were handed over to a coolie who helped us navigate the rest of the process-3 more x-ray/patdown events and a stroll on to the tarmac to identify our luggage before it could be loaded on the plane.  During my final patdown a female soldier with a keen eye identified my toothbrush protector as a potential threat and hurled it to the floor of the airport thus ensuring our flight safety and compromising my oral hygiene for the rest of the journey- a small price to pay.   

3:45 pm Take-off to Delhi.  We landed in Delhi several hours before the United Airways ticket counter opened, so we sat down for leisurely a coffee and meal only to discover that our flight had been cancelled.

We were put up at The Grand Hotel in Delhi, our food was paid for along with a 3 minute international phone call, which we used to update family.  We were not allowed to take our luggage to our room because it had to be left unattended in a public hallway in the hotel for security reasons(?).  I was a little unsure as the hotel did not employ security cats.

Simon and I used the extra time to stage a photo shoot.  We hope that the new material in his portfolio will really catch the attention of Bollywood.

11:00 Hours

11:15 am Airport pick-up.  Upon arrival we learned that our flight had been delayed to 4:00 pm.

Simon and I had to explain to the nice United Airlines security agent that her company was responsible for leaving our luggage unattended overnight.  It was like watching a slow motion wardrobe malfunction in the theatrical production called “Airport Security”.  They made up the possible breech in security with: patdown, x-ray, patdown and detailed questioning about a suspicious package of dental floss.  The Indian army is very anti oral hygiene.

We were able to explore the Delhi airport (FYI- an excellent source of over the counter Viagra).  Simon ate pizza, further delays……

16:45 Hours

5:00 pm Take-off from Delhi to Newark.  On landing we were given $30 of food vouchers and a bus to a complimentary stay at the Ramada.  We bonded with fellow passengers over discussion about whether the hotel elevator on the left was a more likely to be a death trap than the one on the right and were in bed by 12:30 am.

5:15 am Bus to airport.  After check-in, we ate our complimentary breakfast and made a collect call to update family.

9:00 am Land in Toronto.  Simon says we sailed through customs because we were too boring to question.  i think that maybe after 50 plus hours, I looked like a woman on the edge.  

9:20 am Told we will need to wait until 11:30 for the next airport van.  After waiting for 2.5 hours they didn't have seats for both of us (!@#$%^&*), so we rented a car for the drive home.

12:15 pm  Drove out of the Pearson Airport parking lot.

57:30 Hours

about town

The family did an excellent job of pretending that our desire to take a trip in to town by ourselves was completely ordinary.  After Geela gave the go-ahead they had no option but to holler across the water for a shikara.  

Simon says that bargaining for a tuk tuk is painful in my presence.  I know that drivers look at me and begin to plan for their daughters' wedding ceremonies, but there isn’t really anything I can do about it.    Burkas are fairly common here, but I would surely create a moving mountain of fabric that would simply draw more attention.  Simon does concede, however that I make crossing the road easier as few drivers are willing to risk a huge white mess.

Foreign tourists are so rare here now that people stare openly, but it is safe and everyone has been very kind.  I had a gaggle of boys who insisted on following me around a sightseeing stop in the old city yelling “Hello, taxi!” until  I was forced to  take the offensive, chasing them with my camera.  I made them sit like maharajas on a black marble bench for this picture:

family gathering

Yesterday the family hosted the yearly memorial for Simon’s grandfather at the house.  Things were a little tricky for a while because an unexpected general strike in town made buying provisions difficult.  Food, cooking gas and kerosene (for the inevitable power outage) all had to be purchased- and purchased by men because the situation in the city was considered unsuitable for women.  They managed it heroically and only one additional trip had to be made across the water for extra yogurt- the silly men only purchased 3 kilos the first time around.

Shikaras waiting for customers street-side.

During the day Simon’s dad and uncle agreed to play cards with us with the warning that they were distracted thinking about the preparations to concentrate properly.  Simon admitted later that he also found the amount of cleaning and cooking the women had to do exhausting to think about.

Geela’s sisters did not appear to help with the cooking 

as expected because they were too busy during the day.

You will be relieved to know that their families 

were able to find the time to attend the evening meal. 

Six priests preformed(?) the 2 hour long religious ceremony in the sitting room while most of the men in attendance, some of whom I suspect were not even invited, smoked and watched movies in the houseboat.  Tea and food had to be shuttled to them continually to prevent them from complaining afterwards that they were not treated nicely. 

Simon’s presence was required in the main room with the men for the meal.  I was also invited, but begged off any stayed with the women all crowded in to the kitchen.   Simon thought he would have rather stayed in the kitchen too until he saw the leftover food being scraped off the plates and returned to the cooks.  He has been here long enough to know that the women will eat whatever them men leave behind.

I am writing this long post because I have an unusual amount of quiet time this morning with everyone so exhausted from yesterday.  It is raining and the town appears to be very quiet (another strike perhaps).  I did not take photos of the event, but have added a few of the lake for good measure.

The family does not eat fish from Dal Lake but someone must.
Fishermen cast nets in the middle of the lake every morning

snap shots

 Srinigar (& Dal Lake) is in a
valley surrounded by mountains on all sides.

These boats are being used as docks for tourists to swim or water ski, but they are also commonly  called in to service as party boats complete with Bollywood music, lights and dancing.  No alcohol, obviously. 

Most importantly, these boats are decked out and used to ferry the groom and his family and friends to the bride's house during the wedding ceremony.

 Simon, his dad, his grandmother and I took a shikara (a canoe-like boat) ride around the lake together.  Sometimes tourists do shikara trekking spending several days floating, sleeping and eating on the boat.  Simon will not be doing this any time soon.  The  2 hour ride we took was broken up by lunch with his cousin and it was almost too much for him.

Simon's cousin Parvina came to stay in the house one night.  this is her sending her daughter Cerri off too school Saturday morning.  They are walking from the house between Simon's dad's houseboat and one owned by  his aunt Selima's family to the edge of the water to take a shikara to the bus stop.

Simon and I are staying in a room on the right.

This is Horis excited that the barbeque man has been called to provide snacks for the family.  This vendor services houseboats along the lake, but  most of his business is from selling to tourists floating on other shikaras.

Geela always says you can sell anything from a shikara- flash drives, vegetables, flower seeds, toilet paper, post cards.  Simon will need to practice his paddling before he can realize his dream of a chocolate selling shikara.

We are coming home!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

We are still here, and think we may have the Internet thing worked out. I will believe it when I see it. We wont be on skype anymore since theres no point, we will be seeing you all in person very soon. on May 1st (April 30th for Canada) we will begin our journey home, this journey will take 30 hours. we hope to see you all soon.
-Simon
this photo is of my cousin Horse

internet access denied

We landed in Delhi on the evening of the 5^th where we had some time for sightseeing and catching up.   In the hotel on the first night I informed Simon’s dad that the people from Kerala say that Kashmiri men are trained from childhood to earn money and seduce western women.  He said this was complete nonsense.  Boys went in to business early it was true, but the ability to sweet talk western women was a gift to the Kashmiris directly from Allah.  He also said I should never pay attention to the talk of jealous Indians, but it was difficult not to reflect on this conversation a little as we boarded the plane for Kashmir several days ahead of my own itinerary, but exactly as Geela had intended all along.

So now we are in Kashmir.   Things seem to have settled down here politically and it seems quite calm at the moment.  You do not need to worry about Simon’s safety here because there are people looking out for him.  His aunt Selima has consulted a number of shrines and temples and now believes that he needs a talisman to wear around his neck to protect him from “the eye”.  She has also recommended that Simon’s dad only introduce him to his closest family members on this visit to limit his potential exposure.  I am not sure what happens to people who are possessed by the eye, but I hope that the extra precautions pay off and I never find out.

Simon has also met two prospective marriage candidates so far. We went to dinner at a house with a pretty and precocious 14 year old girl where he was grilled thoroughly and told to work on his French.  The second meeting with a first cousin (attractive and already in first year college) was thankfully less formal .  Although Simon has been very good humored about the whole process, I am not sure he (or his father) is ready to sign a contract just yet.  I am simply using this platform to give my family advanced warning: Kashmiri brides expect gold….lots and lots of gold. 

We will post more details and pictures when Internet access permits- or if there are any big developments in these two stories.

moving on

  Our Thai visas have expired!

We are returning to India for a few weeks at least. 

Watch for updates.

a little chicken

I could not get closer with my camera
 because the damn things make too much noise.

I have been seeing large open work bamboo baskets for sale at road side stalls in Thailand and wanted one to take home with me.  They are far too large to fit in my suitcase and I had no idea what they are used for until I took a walk in my neighbourhood a few days ago.  They are chicken cages!

Many of the birds are free range during the day and the bamboo prisons are only dropped on them at night. Yes that's right, I said it: free range chicken in the middle of the city..

The local temples seem to prefer the free range kind.

This noisy bugger was sitting in a tree when I went to visit the Hmong tribe.  His owner takes him on a leash when he goes hunting in the jungle.  The noise he makes flushes wild birds out of the brush.

When I asked why the local dogs didn't eat this captive snack, it was explained to me that dogs and chickens are friends.  

l would fashion a muzzle for him to wear when he is hanging out at home if he were my personal jungle bait.

hilltribe hillarity

I was forced to change my Thai handicraft search strategy after the silk weaving adventure of 2013.  It was a relatively simple fix.  I only had to announce my desire to see authentic hilltribe textile craft production to three confused market vendors before one gave me a phone number.  Her father's phone number to be precise.  

One phone call later and I was heading out of town folded in to the half cab seat of the family pick-up truck. The jungle scenery was idylic and the muscle clenches I had to do every time the seat slid out of position on the mountain switch backs was undoubtedly excellent for building core strength.

The entire experience was amazing.  I got to watch Hmong traditional dress fabrics in all stages of production and was even allowed the batik wax resist technique.  I made a fool of myself for the general amusement of the crowd of villagers that had collected.

They were too polite to say anything directly, but I think I can assume that my lack of talent rules me out as a potential Hmong marriage candidate.  Good for a laugh, but not someone you would take home to mom (and the 7 other relatives that live in you two room house).

It is obvious I need practice if I  ever hope to find a husband, so in the end I bought three wax application tools.  They were made by the artist's father 20 years ago.  It seems even the skill required to make the tools is disappearing from their village.  She assured me that he would make her new ones to replace them, so they could be used to do demonstrations for the next hopeless tourist.
 

Hand worked applique.
Unfortunately, you can't see the bright blue cell phone stowed in the sewing basket in this photo.

A piece of finished batik and a finished pleated skirt.

Indigo plants used for dyeing.

Chang Yim

I am posting a 2 more pictures of Chang Yim for my nieces.