Friday, June 17, 2005

Off to K-A-S-H-M-I-R!!!

Ok, gotta make this quick...

We leave for Kashmir at 4 AM in the morning, so you may not hear much from us for the next three weeks. We return to Delhi on July 10, so have a happy 4th of July if we don't talk to you before that!

Don't worry, we bought our traditional Indian clothing today, so we should belnd in a little better. Also, Moms, we will be safe and take care of each other.

We miss you all!

Love,
Jeni

A Taste of Home

So we had our first safe water scare on the train. The water they brought us was in bottles, but when Jeni went to twist her cap off, the entire cap came off without tearing the “protective seal.” We both looked at each other with wide eyes. We read that to save a buck, some establishments will put filtered tap water in used water bottles and self seal them. After consulting our train companions, they recommended drinking the water we had brought with us. However, all we had left was two-thirds of one liter. Yikes.

We busted out our kill-all-yucky-stuff tablets from the Wilderness Exchange in Berkeley and plopped them into our bottles. The only problem is that it takes four hours for the pills to take effect. Come morning, we washed down our breakfasts with what was the first distinct taste of home…Swimming pool water. It wasn’t as bad as I thought though, not much different from tap water.

Cheers, Jeeni

Life’s a Stage, and One Does Need a Curtain

I had my first ever “real” train experience traveling from Mumbai to Delhi. I have been on the trains at amusement parks, but I don’t think that really counts. Jeni and I spent 17 hours on an air-conditioned three-tiered sleeper train. It was for the most part an excellent experience. The food was yummy Indian food, even the natives around us confirmed that the Rajistani Train has the best food. We were engaged in interesting conversation topics with our fellow train goers, ranging from why India should not allow Wal-Mart to open, to what a staple dinner would consist of in America? Suggestions on the last one would be helpful.

Jeni and I taught a highly competitive, 19 year old, computer science student named Vikrant how to play Phase 10 (American card game). He loudly proclaimed “sh*&^%$it” when I beat him! I allowed curious older Indian men to inspect my headlamp, used for reading after the light are off. We saw amazing country side; consisting of different unidentifiable crops, huts, livestock, people working, temples, weird trees, etc. In general we just enjoyed socializing, relished not being in the muggy heat and relaxed.

A problem arose when we tried to go to sleep. There was only one creepy guy on the entire train, if fact most of the men (oh ya, we were the only females in our small area, but not the only women on the train) reminded me of regular guys back home. We are getting used to being stared at and even pointed out to others, but this creep would not look away, for almost the entire trip. Upon climbing into my undersized bunk (I was in the middle, Jeni on the bottom,) at bedtime, I realized I was dead smack in this guys line of fire. He was positioned on a wall perpendicular to wear I was, Jeni was just a bit further from his nasty gaze. I have a high tolerance for this sort of thing but even I was squirming. Ah ha, I had an idea…since we had brought our own sheets, I had an extra…I looked him right in the eye, reached up and smoothly tied one end of the sheet onto a metal bar and quickly tucked the other into a mesh basket fixed to the wall. Presto, privacy screen. It was good enough for me to be able to sleep the night away rocking to the rhythm of the train.

Nighty Night, Jeeni

PS you will have to check out the pics from the train as soon as we find another place to upload them, Hilarious!

My Life’s So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades

Shopping in India is an Olympic event, much like a triathlon. However, I am proud of one significant purchase. I brought my eye prescription with me in hopes of finding an optometrist and in fear of losing my glasses and/or contact lenses. I was in luck, they are everywhere. I ordered a pair of cool (Jeni said they’re movie star style) prescription sunglasses from a small place in Mumbai. They said they could have them for me the next day just before we left for Delhi. They were two hours late, but I had anticipated this and gave a time four hours before we were actually leaving. I walked away with shades for $29.85. Not bad at all.

Cardio Shopper, Jeeni

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Annoyingly Polite

As Jeni and I navigate our neighborhood, we are consistently accosted by very animated “Hello Madam, you like, you need taxi, want nice purse?” The street vendors are so welcoming and cordial that you almost feel guilty ignoring their persistent greetings. Almost, but not after a few days livin’ it up in the hood. We have learned how to stop someone from walking alongside us for an eternity saying, “what’s your name, where you from, you want map? Hello?” You have to walk towards a large object, like a car or a group of people. People will get close, but fortunately, they don’t really touch you. However, there are these men with huge phallic shaped balloons, they hold them in front of you to try to stop you in order to buy one, for what purpose? I dunno. Who needs a balloon the size of a horse. Even funnier, we recently learned that an eyebrow piercing in India indicates that you are interested in purchasing hash. Poor Jeni pretty much has an embarrassingly inaccurate sign on her forehead. Although, I have a feeling everyone would star at us anyways.

Respectfully Yours, Madam Jeeni

Size Matters

India is home to over a billion people, after staying in Mumbai for nearly a week, I think they all live here! Everything is crowded and cramped. Decrepit buildings are like hamster cages. You have to leave the main street in order to walk down a wet, smelly, narrow alley, stepping over cats and trash to a door holding in the cool air, then crawl up a spiraling rickety metal staircase with a fire pole as a rail in order to arrive at a miniature room called an Internet café. Jeni and I are absolute giants. We tower over women and men alike, have to squeeze through door ways, duck in order to not hit our heads and, in general, we cannot buy most of the clothes and shoes from vendors on the streets. We are even too long for our beds. Jeni has it worse than I do for sure. There are so many people here in such small spaces that it is common to see people sleeping in every nook and cranny, families eating lunch sitting in the street, men getting their faces shaved by razor on street corners. In general, life is very much in the open (or lack there of).

Godzilla, oops I mean Jeeni

Jeeni and Jeni in India!




AND there's more where this came from! Log onto our Snapfish gallery (info below) to see a full range of photos from our journey... We will keep adding photos (if available technology allows) to the same photo album.

love,
Jeni

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Our "Princess" Day

So after our harrowing day on the Bollywood set, Jeeni and I took a bit of a break yesterday and, after a morning trip to the railway station to buy Wednesday’s sleeper tickets to Delhi, pampered ourselves with all of our favorite treats: iced mocha drinks at the air-conditioned Barista (the Indian version of Starbucks), lunch at our favorite restaurant in Mumbai (more about this place later: it deserves its own post), and a pedicure & facial at “The Nail Bar” (an upscale salon located in the four-star Fariyas Hotel). The combination of our weekly malaria medicine (which, incidentally, causes nausea and hallucinations) and our uber-relaxing facials, left us exhausted by 6pm. We decided to get take-out food and ice cream cones and head back to our hotel room for a little “Full House” and “The Hogan Family.” No wonder Indian fashion seems stuck in the 80s!

Off to shop!

(by the way, scroll down to find the link to our online photo album!)

xo,
Jeni

Autographs Anyone?

FYI: the time difference between Mumbai, India and the West Coast 13 hours. When it is 7:00 pm in California on Monday, it is 8:00 am in Mumbai on Tuesday. Jeni and I lost a day on the plane trip.

So my mom wants to know why our pedicures at a four star hotel were cancelled…As Jeni and I were returning from the Internet, lassi and shopping excursion to the cool serenity of our hotel room, we were approached by a casting director/agent. His name was Nashir Hussain, a 29 year old native Indian who left his job as a graphic designer to pursue a career in the Bollywood industry.

I was offered a speaking role in a real Bollywood film for the flat rate of 500 rupees ($12.50.) After asking to see identification and working out a few details, I agreed to be picked up outside of my hotel at 1:00pm that afternoon.

1:03 pm- Nashir and his partner Mukesh, picked up Jeni (my new Manager) and myself in a taxi and whisked us off to the Churchgate train station. We had looked on the map and could see that where we were going was well over an hour away, however we were planning on making a similar trip to see the Sanjay Gandhi National Park, so we considered the train trip practice for when we would have to navigate on our own.

Side Note: Jeni and I were being cautious, but we were not fearful, Mumbai is well known for recruiting foreigners for films. In addition, Nashir had advised us not to bring valuables, so we knew we were not being set up for a robbery.

Nashir and Mukesh arranged all of our transportation for the trip along the way. On the train, we found out that we would be going to a bungalow on Mudd Island. From the train, we hopped on a public bus, then the four of us squeezed into a motor-rickshaw and zoomed through the narrow dirt paths of a fishing village. Next, we hurried onto a ferry, along with villagers, men with motorcycles, women caring baskets, etc. Once on the shore of Mudd Island, we took another bus and reached our destination at about 2:30 pm. From the train onwards, Jeni and I were the only non-Indians. People would point us out to each other, staring and often giggling. Around 6-8 inches taller than almost everyone else, we are a sight to see.

At the filming site, Nashir gave us a tour which included a Florida style, palm tree encircled grass area, hut like changing rooms in the back and finally the bungalow, with cameras, lights, cables, over 30 Indian men working or sitting around waiting for a task, actresses and actors and the directors. My stomach flip-flopped a little when I saw the different sets. They instantly screamed porn! I quickly remembered however, that Indian films are exceptionally cheesy and the brighter and more mismatched colors, the better. We were introduced, fed and stuck in the only air conditioned room with the main female star. I could hardly believe what was happening.
The title of the film is “Dil Da Mamla,” which roughly translates as “Matters of the Heart.” I learned that I would be playing the role of the villain’s English wife. The story is that he leaves his Indian wife in India and moves to England were he marries my character. The story is about the Indian wife he left behind and her struggle to find happiness after being abused and deserted. As is the case on any Hollywood set, we didn’t know for sure when my scene would start. So, for the next 5 hours we had to entertain ourselves. This included reading, playing cards, singing American hip-hop songs, being challenged to arm wrestling matches(!), learning Hindi, taking shots of hot Chai, having my make-up done by men, and negotiating my wardrobe.
There is an impression, probably from the music videos on MTV, that all western women dress like hoochie mamas from the late 80’s, early 90’s. They wanted me to wear a half top and short shorts, while everyone else on the set was conservatively dressed in Indian garb. I convinced them that the outfit they were suggesting would not be the most flattering given my body type. It helped that they didn’t actually have this outfit they described to me. In fact, one of the directors waited until Nashir was away and asked me how much they would have to pay me in order to cut the pants I was wearing into short shorts. I tried to explain that this would not work because I would have to travel back through the city in short shorts! My Manager (Jeni) stepped in and put her foot down. We settled on me wearing the tank top I had under my long sleeve shirt, with my black dress pants rolled up under themselves like really thick (and not to mention, ugly) biker shorts. When Nashir returned from his smoke break and saw my outfit, he started laughing. I explained the hoochie mama/cutting pants situation and he firmly told me not to cut my pants and not to talk to anyone without him. He added that I looked ridiculous, but that it was not his movie.

So after what seemed like forever, I was called to the set to give my performance. My scene is as follows: my Indian husband (Bhupi) and I enter our house from a date, laughing and see an Indian woman sitting on the couch (his wife I do not know about). I notice her and say “Who is she?” Bhupi yells at her in Hindi to go make us dinner and bring us coffee. He tells me she is his servant. The Indian wife yells back in Hindi and he pushes her, she falls into me and then I tumble into the wall and pout, rubbing my shoulder saying, “Bhupi, what is this?” He rushes to my side, helps me up and yells at her in Hindi. The Indian wife points at me and says that she will kill me. I tell my dearest Bhupi “I don’t want to see her face Bhupi. Bhupi, please kick her out, otherwise I will kick you out from my life!” He then smacks her and they argue more in Hindi. That’s it.

Each line is shot separately. In between takes, two different directors would give me conflicting instructions on where to look, how to say lines, what facial expressions to give, etc. Also, I would have my face powdered and my make-up retouched. It was extremely hot (like 100% and humid), especially under the lights. It took all my nerve not to burst into laughter at the entire affair, especially when I would catch Jeni’s eye. The people at the set, including the actors, thought I was a real actress, not just an American tourist staying in the Colaba district. We finished just after 11 pm, both Jeni and I were exhausted and ready to leave hours earlier. The only thing that kept us going was that we would never have to do anything similar in our entire lives!!! My agent, Nashir told me I was a natural and seemed genuinely pleased with my performance, he even tipped us and extra 100 rupees for having to stay so late and travel home by night. The entire experience was horrifically fantastic. Goal accomplished!

Jeeni, upcoming Bollywood star…

Pictures are Here!

Please visit our online Snapfish album and check out the first wave of photos from the trip. As promised, you can catch a glimpse of us en route through our string of layovers, take a trip to the famous caves of Elephanta Island, or spend a long, hot day on the set of a Bollywood film.

much love,
Jeni

(For those of you non-computer-whiz types, you can access our Snapfish site by clicking on the "Pictures are Here" title for this post...)

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Guided Cave Tour by Chandra

After another morning of exploring our neighborhood, booking pedicures at the World Famous Taj Mahal Hotel and slurping up more mango lassis, we hopped on a long ferry journey to Elephanta Island http://www-ccs.cs.umass.edu/cris/bombay1998/elephanta/elephanta.html. Not surprising, there was a fee or tax at every step of our journey. On our trip up the mountain, we encountered solicitations for tour guides. I had read that this is a treat and worth the few dollars they charge. So Chandra, who was raised and has lived on the Island with out electricity his entire life became our day long friend. His services proved to be quit useful. He helped us weave our way through vendors, I stopped for my first sidewalk meal (yummy), guarded us from nasty moneys, told us the fair prices we should be paying for misc items and the prices we would be quoted because of our color and was in general friendly and helpful. At the top of the mountain, I forgot about the scorching heat, my burning calves and fell in love with the caves I have only read about. I am still in awe. The depth, size and detail of the caves and carvings within are like nothing I have seen in real life. Caved into the mountain side was a living museum, think Indiana Jones. It is also incredible that the work was done during the 13th century. After the caves we were invited to visit the local village, Indian hospitality is common. We ended up with a fantastic view of the ocean from the second story of a small but exceptional clean and bare hut. The breeze and shade was fantastic. Before we parted ways with our new friend, he gave us both matching anklets and we bought him a beer at the Government ran restaurant on the Island.

Back in Mumbai, Jeni and I had the most fantastic Indian meal. I mean mouth watering, take the food away or I will eat myself into oblivion meal! Cost: less than 5$ total. We thought we would go home, take a short nap and then get ready for our big night on the town. We were wrong. We fell sleep about 7:20 pm and slept threw the alarm and on into the morning. We were so exhausted. We both woke up this morning (or rather I woke Jeni up because "Hey sleepyhead, we're in India!") rested and eager to start our next adventurous day.

So far, we have ate breakfast, bought new shoes from a street vendor, are currently at the Internet Cafe, will be leaving here to Leopold Cafe for the most perfect Mango Lassi and who knows until our 1:00 pedicures and an attempt to sneak into the fancy hotel swimming pool...

Om Shanti, Jeeni