Oh, india, how i have a love hate-relationship with her. There are ups and downs. We are at odds constantly, but that challenge keeps me on my toes.

This blog will have no pictures because I have yet to find a computer that uploads at a decent rate. But I will share some of the highlights and post pictures when I get a chance.

We began in mumbai, the land of bollywood. Despite my love of all things glamorous, I did not get a glimpse of. But I did get to eat at Leopold's, the cafe where Gregory David Roberts, the author of Shantaram, spends a great deal of time (at least in the book he did). There are so many people there looking for a similar experience as to the Lindsay character of the book, but I have to say as exciting as it was to be there just to say that I was there, I did not experience the magic that was painted in the book. But that happens when you try to force an experienec, I guess. But I am happy to have visited, nonetheless.

After Mumbai, we hopped on a 16 hour train ride to Udaipur, which is northeast of Mumbai. The train ride was not too bad because it was broken up into 2 parts. The second part was in a sleeper car, which we shared with 2 Finnish women. So it was pretty easy going.

Once we arrived in Udaipur, it was apparent that we had left the constant bombardment of city life. Don't get me wrong, it was still hectic, but it had more of a smaller town feel than the ginormous, cacophonous city of mumbai. Here we just walked around and looked at the various sights, which included lots of places to buy clothes and bags. There were also a lot of temples, some of them more impressive than others. One of my favorite experiences was at dusk when all the lights of the town started to glimmer and the prayers of the jain temple filled the air with their rhythmic chanting.

Here in Udaipur we got to have chai with a couple of shop owners. And although we knew on some level that they were buttering us up with their sweet chai and charming conversation so we could buy things, it didn't take anything away from the actual conversations we had. First, there was Gopal, who was an arrist. He painted these tiny, ornate pictures with a paintbrush that was made of one hair from a squirrel's tail. With him, we discussed friendship, loyalty, and Indian vs. American education. He was a very wise man. And as it turns out, a great business person. Annette liked him so much that she didn't even bargain for the pieces she bought. And she is the queen of bargaining.

We also had tea with Dinesh, who owned a store that sold stereotypical, Indian looking bags (of which I bought 4). He told us a little about domestic lives, including the inner workings of marriages. He also gave us the wise advice of never trusting rickshaw drivers because they are apparently players and convince foreign women that they are bachelors, when in fact they have a wife and 4 kids at home. It was funny remembering this tidbit when we went to agra and met an obnoxious, pushy rickshaw driver named Saleem (who actually ended up helping us out a lot) who as it turns out was having an affair with a french woman staying at our hotel. Pretty hilarious.

Ok, that is all for now. I am caked in layers of dirt, grime, and possible urine that I should go attempt to rinse off now. See, what I mean about India? She brings so many adventures, but at the same time keeps me in my place by showing me who is boss.