Round the World Journal
by Matt Donath
Dec 10. Our friend Mazhar in Singapore invited us to visit with his family in Pune. So, we take a bus there. Trying to get to their apartment, we learn that reading the meters on the auto-rickshaws in Pune can be challenging. In Aurangabad the actual rate was about 1.5 times the meter. Here in Pune, we find that the rate is about 4 times the meter! The rate differs for exactly what type of auto-rickshaw you are riding in as well. If you are unfamiliar with the current conversion rates, ask the driver for his rate chart. They should all have this. It will show you the conversions from what you see on the meter to the charged amount. We arrive during a week when they are changing the conversions, so a normally confusing system was made even worse. Some of the rickshaws were on strike because of disagreements with the rate change.
We eat at a Chinese restaurant called Chung-Fa (recommended) on East Street. Afterwards, we have a kolfi at Shiv Kailash, across the street from the railway station. Kolfi can be described as a sort of pistachio ice cream, but that doesn't begin to do justice to this deliciously rich Indian treat. Honestly, given the choice between an excellent Italian gelato, a premium Swiss ice cream, and a kolfi like you can get in Pune -- I think I would take the kolfi. It's that good.
Dec 11. Mazhar's dad takes us on a short tour of Pune. We wander around town and the University grounds. We discover that the Citibank ATM machine in town accepts our visa card. This is the first ATM machine in India that we've been able to get cash out of!
The Farooqui family is sooo nice to us; we're really quite spoiled. Mazhar's mom is a wonderful cook who makes all sorts of tasty Indian dishes for us. Just a few that spring to mind are: poha (a savory breakfast dish of pepper rice with peanuts and coconut), upma (semolina and spice), rasmalai (spongy sweet curd in cream, shikran (banana, sugar, ghee and cardamom), dal cha (three types of dal mixed with mutton, curry and spice), and her delicious fish curry. Just sitting around chatting with the family is an immense treat for us. It's great to be inside a home for a change.
Dec 12. Mazhar's brother Arshad tries to takes us around to see some sites, but my sickly body isn't up to it. Actually, I can't complain too much as I'm not feeling too terrible and I haven't been ill since Varanasi.
Dec 13. December is the primary month for weddings in India and we've seen quite a few elaborate processions both here and in Aurangabad. Today, we see one of the largest and most rowdy processions yet. Loud, thumping, squealing music from several hand-carried loudspeakers clear the way for many dancing fools. The poor groom rides behind on a gaily decorated horse. The groom is also comically over-dressed, usually like a raja. A trio of rocking drummers kept building up the crowd. Or maybe it was the liquor everyone seemed to be passing around... Arshad tells us that these drummers keep up their frenetic pace by consuming large quantities of bhang (marijuana laced lassi) before their crazed performances. Everyone except the groom seemed to be having a rollicking time.
We visit the worthwhile city museum with Arshad and his father. Some of the exhibits are a bit run-down, but overall they have an excellent collection.
For dinner, we treat our generous hosts at the Garden Court restaurant (recommended), on the west side, high atop a hill overlooking the town. They have a large, outdoor seating area. A good portion of this was occupied by one of the most elaborate wedding receptions I've ever seen. A full stage was setup for announcements and impressive musical performances. Everything was filmed with professional video equipment mounted on hydraulic lifts, flying wildly through the air to catch every possible angle.
Dec 14. After several frustrating hassles with air tickets and ATM machines, we visit a wet market. As used as we are to Asian wet markets, this one is not for the faint of heart. Men stagger in under the weight of dripping goat carcasses. Mounds of skin and feathers sit in large corner heaps covered with insects. Dogs chew on chicken feet and heats. Blood flies out of puddles on the chopping blocks when the butchers attack meat with their cleavers. We learn how to buy fresh mutton from an expert -- definitely an interesting place.
Outside the wet market I score some Kholipuri sandals for my aunt. We eat some guddani (jaggerdy flavored sesame seeds) and wander through some narrow twisty streets of the old part of town.
We're finally set with our air tickets to Sri Lanka after eventually finding a good travel agent at Harshal Travels (harshal@giaspn01.usnl.net.in).
Dec 15. We bid fond farewell to our new friends at the train station. They made the last part of our stay in India very enjoyable. Meeting people like the Farooqui family and their friends make for some of the very best travel memories.
We've got our train routine down pat. First we trade with someone to get two top adjacent bunks, if we don't have them already. This is usually possible because not everyone can climb up there easily. Next we wash off the filthy seats as best we can with a wet hanky. Then we hang the bags between us, leaning them against each other. This is easy if the top bunk has a hook for the bottom bunk chain, as they usually do. If not, we rig up a cantilever system over one of the fans with our rope. Our shoes go on top of the ceiling fans. We hang a bag of food and water on one of the shared coat hooks. Before sleeping we apply some mosquito repellent and slip inside sleep sacks.
Dec 16-17. This last, long train ride to Madras (Chennai) isn't too bad. A few of our seatmates speak some English and I catch some great views while hanging out of an open door.
Madras is a piece of cake to stop for the night, waiting to catch a flight. We walk across the street from the train station to catch a local train at the Park station. We take this one stop to Egmore and walk across the street to the Imperial Hotel (not too bad). Next door is a slow but serviceable email place. Next morning, we hop back on the local train and take it to the airport. How many towns can get you all the way to the airport for 5 rs?
The airport itself is another story though, massively inefficient and maddeningly full of delays. We sit in the waiting room, spending our last rupees on tea, and watch parts of the Asian Games on TV. On to Sri Lanka!