Developed or developing? English speaking or not? Which is the best?

Many people have asked me whether I enjoy traveling more in developed or developing countries. This isn't really a fair question, since it doesn't take the culture differences into account. For example, Australia and Japan are similar in development, but so different in culture and the experiences I had that they're not really comparable at all.

Aside from the cultural aspects, as a traveler I've observed two main differences between the developed and developing countries; price and comfort. 

Developed country: high price and high comfort.

Developing country: low price and low comfort...or, as I'll explain later, a medium price and medium to high comfort.

I consider a country more "developed" mainly if it's just more organized and people seem to have a high quality of life. For example, Brazil has a very high GDP, but it has favelas(slums) all over Rio and has people scared about crime, so I wouldn't list it before many other countries. One cannot judge based on the GDP per capita since all of those Asian city-states like Singapore and Hong Kong would be at the top of the list.

Of course, this post and all of my opinions are based on the specific 15 countries that I visited and my own experiences there. I'll order those countries from most developed to most developing, based on my own experiences of the country, nothing official here: 

Developed - Australia, Japan, New Zealand, Singapore, Hong Kong, Argentina, Brazil

Developing - China, Peru, Thailand, Vietnam, Bolivia, India, Cambodia, Laos

Now back to the two big differences of price and comfort. Developing countries are by definition cheaper places to live and travel. Especially if you come from any developed country, your exchange rate is going to give you heaps of buying power. The glory of this cheapness, however, is contrasted by the quality of the amenities throughout the country, especially in public. The government probably won't put much effort into maintaining things used by the public, so you never know what you're gonna get with roads, police, and the like.

When dealing with a private establishment, however, even though you're in a developing country, capitalism still reigns supreme in our global world and you get what you pay for. In the developing countries with a large class divide, you can still see prices that would be the same or greater than what you would pay at home, but the quality is on par. India has a large class divide with really only the rich and the poor. You can get food on the street for a fraction of a dollar, and then you can get food in a nice restaurant for $5-$15 dollars. The nice thing is that you'll get great service for your money, and still pay only half the price of the equivalent in the USA or Europe.

Many hostel dorms in China have a going rate of about $7-25 per night now. I stayed at a place that was at the top of that range ~$25 per night, but it was an amazing place. Soft fantastic mattresses, free towels that were absolutely huge, free breakfast, just a great fun and clean atmosphere in general, and it was outfitted from a traditional Chinese hutong home. This is the same as the going rate for a regular hostel in Australia, but I got much more than I would ever get in Oz. They nickel and dime you there for towels, internet, breakfast, etc. I wouldn't call this living like a king on a dime, but it shows that you can get a lot for your money if you don't go too cheap, and you can afford it!

Because of these two differences of price and comfort as well as the culture, it's cheaper and you get more bang for your buck in a developing country, but I can't say it's more enjoyable.

A better question to answer would be, "Is it more enjoyable traveling in a primarily English speaking (usually Westernized as well) country?" This is different from asking about just a Westernized country, since even in a Westernized country in Europe there are many cultural and language differences to experience albeit a higher price. I'm not going to answer the Westernized country question since it's not really applicable to this trip.

Australia and New Zealand are primarily English speaking Westernized countries (that I'll refer to now as "Australasia"). A huge factor in my experiences there depended on their English proficiency and familiarity to my home country of the USA. Soon after I arrived, I felt like I was home...but not really.

Everyone drives on the opposite side of the road, it was winter and not summer in June. I was still traveling, but it was almost too easy. Everyone spoke English, there were a gazillion tour brochures and companies trying to get you to go on their expensive tour. The overwhelming familiarity of all the choices was back, it was almost like a reverse culture shock. I had gotten so used to everything being off and going wrong, that I wasn't sure what to do. My free Internet was gone and all the hostels were huge with heaps of people. It actually wasn't until the mid-writing of this blog post that I realized I had that reverse culture shock.

One example is that I had been traveling with a roll of toilet paper in my bag nearly my entire trip, but once I got to Australasia, I almost never used it since every public bathroom actually provided these amenities...and it stayed in my bag all the way home.

It wasn't long before I got used to the new familiarity though. I enjoyed the ease of travel where all the travel agencies told you exactly where you should go and all of them gave you the same expensive price (which meant there was little gain to haggling or looking for the lowest bidder). I had a great time meeting interesting people too, who were mostly people from other English speaking countries. UK and Irish travelers especially love to travel to Australasia, constantly complaining about their crappy weather and how much better it is in Australia (even though we had some bad rain in Oz, and NZ was cold and rainy most of my time during my winter travels). There were still out of the ordinary crazy travel experiences, but they were usually packaged up in a tour, there were no more cultural epiphanies.

It was fun though to pick out the differences between Australasia and the USA, mostly with the English language. I love the accents, but I can't really describe that without going into highly technical language specifics like diphthongs, so here's just some fun words that I encountered off the top of my head:

Australia & New Zealand:

• Arvo - Afternoon
• Boot - trunk of a car
• Mate - like when you say man, buddy, etc. (ex: Hey there, mate!)
• Candy floss - cotton candy
• Return - round-trip (so you buy a ticket return instead of a ticket round-trip)
• Tog - swimsuit
• Brilliant - cool, sweet, awesome
• When they saw something like "no," "saw," or "idea" it sounds like they add and "er" sound to the end of it so it sounds more like "noer," "sawer," and "idear." Of course it's more pronounced in certain people, but it's definitely there.

Australia only:

• Barbie - BBQ
• Thongs - flip-flops
• G-Strings - thongs

New Zealand only:

• Jandals - flip-flops
• Sweet As, hot as, *some word* as - Very sweet, very hot, etc.
• Choice - cool, nice sweet. "Hey man I traveled around the world." "Choice, dude"
• The Maori people (native NZ islanders) like calling people bros, everyone's a bro to them

With that said, I can conclude that a non-English speaking country presents you with more to discover and experience, which is what traveling is really all about. Being from an English speaking country, I'm glad I broadened my horizons and went out of my comfort zone. Take a leap, don't just go to another English speaking country that isn't that different from your own.

Uncle Brian's Fun & Falls

The other day I went on a tour of the rainforest and waterfalls from Cairns, Australia called Uncle Brian's fun and falls. This was probably the best tour I've ever done, and not even because of the places we went, but because of the way the tour was run. This could've been a highly uneventful day where a bus takes you from one place to another, but instead it was full of random fun and stories so there was never a dull moment.

Immediately after driving off with all of us, our guide Cousin Rohan talked about the bus, who was personified into Gus the Bus. There were all sorts of stories with Gus the Bus, his other car loves, his feelings, and Rohan would honk and make the bus bump around using the clutch if Gus didn't feel like doing anything. Later in the day we couldn't find Gus' girlfriend and he cried by cleaning his windshield. We would also wave at people down the road just for fun, which was always a good time. We waved at everyone, but mostly street workers. Always good to brighten people's days like that. :)

And of course the places we went weren't too shabby either.

The first place we went to was a place called Babinda Boulders. Not much there actually, just some dangerous plants, a nice view, and some cold water we could swim in. They did talk a lot about all the danger signs that littered the place. Many people had not followed the signs in the first place and died in the falls, since a few places look like a great place to swim but you get stuck under the water. The water was pretty cold, so a few of us got in for a bit but didn't stay in too long.

Babinda Boulders

The second place we stopped was called Josephine Falls. This was the best place since there was a natural water slide to hang out on. You could go down the rock where there was only a little bit of water or a crazy rushing rapid. Head first, sideways, you name it, we did it.

The third place we went to (other than stopping for lunch on top of the tablelands) was Milla Milla falls. This place was cold. By the time we got there it was all in shadow, so it was hard to get in the water, but most of us did, since Rohan was talking about sticking your head in the water and flicking it up to get a nice effect. Guys could even do it as long as they stuck their whole head under water and flicked it up. Here's my try.

Woosh kahhhhh

The last place we went to was a big lake. No rivers ran into the lake, it just caught all the water from the nearby mountains and ended up being very clean, clear, and calm. There was a tree by this lake that grew outward in a certain way that made it easy to walk over and jump into the water. By this time I was done with cold water, but I got peer pressured by my friend Heledd into jumping. She jumped first, now it was my turn. I climbed the tree...damn it felt high. When I got to the jump point, I was scared. The guy with the camera was ready, and I said 1, 2, 3, and jumped. Whew that was a hard one, I got a shot of adrenaline when I jumped off, and I have to say I think I was less scared before I skydived out of an airplane than when I was jumping off this tree 15 feet above the water. But of course I landed with a splash and was fine, and with all that adrenaline I wasn't cold at all! The pic was on Heledd's camera, so I'll post it here after it eventually comes up on facebook. Once was in the lake, I realized it was really nice, and we swam around a bit. It was a good workout not touching the bottom for about half an hour.

With Gus the Bus and Cousin Rohan

We actually went to one more place after getting back on Gus the Bus; platypus hunting! There was one place where it was very common to see a platypus right at dusk, and so we all ran around by this river and caught a few glimpses of the popular Australian mammal/fish/whatever.

On the drive back, we had the most epic singing and dancing session, we had red and yellow lights than Cousin Rohan would flash and yell "disco lights" while the song was playing. We went back on a road that wound down a mountain for a very looong time, so it was good we were occupied instead of getting car sick. My favorite song was when we did "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" and did row alternating head bobbing to the chorus haha.

Overall, highly recommended tour that everyone going through Cairns should definitely do! I haven't said everything, so there's still plenty of surprises if you were to actually go on it.

The Whitsundays Islands

The Whitsundays Islands in Australia, named because it was Sunday and a holy day when Captain Cook arrived there. Wikipedia says that they had a timekeeping problem and it was really a Monday...whatever. I went out with a tour where we sailed around to some of the best spots around the islands. I barely knew what I was getting into, but it was a fantastic experience.

The first afternoon, after mingling and sailing a bit, we had our first snorkeling adventure. Now I've played around with snorkels at home in swimming pools and such, but nothing was like this.

We arrived at a little cove next to an island, and they pointed to a section of the water that supposedly had some things to see. After putting on a stinger suit and getting a mask and snorkel that hopefully wouldn't leak, I was the first to jump off the boat and start swimming to the reef area. At first, I swam way too hard and started to tire myself out. A little ways away from the boat, I looked behind me and no one else had jumped off the boat yet! Also, the small dingy motorboat that Liam (one of our guides) was gonna take out for help wasn't even unhooked from the boat yet. I kind of started to freak out a little bit. I put my mask and snorkel on and started to look at the ocean floor, couldn't see much, but mostly I was thinking about the lack of air I was getting, since I was already panting from swimming too hard I couldn't get enough air through the snorkel.

Looking back to see that I was still the only one out, I decided to stop freaking out. I realized that I could stay afloat while treading water much less vigorously, and got my breathing down to a normal pace. Now I tried to put my snorkel on again and went under. Wow. I'm not sure if I floated to a different place than before or just wasn't looking before, but what I saw was amazing. This is the first time I've seen a reef like this with my own eyes. Colorful algae, colorful fish, everything alive and in its own natural habitat. I was able to breathe deeply through the snorkel and I was off exploring the reef from the surface! Before I knew it everyone else was around me and the motorboat was going around to anyone who asked.

While exploring happily on the surface, I was suddenly hit by something from below, oh wait it was someone! My childhood pool snorkeling skills came back to me, and I realized I should be diving down right next to all the corals and fish! I started to breathe in, dive down to take a closer look, and then come up and blow the water out of the snorkel with my breath out. The closer looks were even more amazing than exploring it from above, no aquarium or video footage prepared me for this. The only bad part about the diving was that I couldn't seem to depressurize my ears, so it felt a bit uncomfortable going down very deep. Before this I hadn't really had a strong desire to go scuba diving, but this definitely changed my mind.

After leaving this cove we went around to an anchor spot and spent the night there. We watched the sun fall, ate some delicious dinner, and drank the night away on the mighty Boomerang.

Boomerang was the name of our sailboat. It was built in 1987(same age as me!) and won the world record for fastest sailboat in 1988. After a life of races, it became a charter boat for the Whitsundays around 2002. When it was a racing boat it didn't have anything below deck since all the action happened above with people trying to make the boat go as fast as possible, but now it was decked out with about 28 beds, captain's quarters, a galley(kitchen), and a few tables. This meant it was not built for comfort, so on deck there were just obstacles anywhere and no real place to sit and hang out, but we made do hanging around the grinders. People just got hit in the head a few times haha.

The next morning we went straight to another dive spot that the guides said was even better. It was in fact even more amazing than the first. This time the reef area was farther from the sailboat than before, so Liam took us all out in the dingy and we jumped out of the small boat into an even more colorful reef with schools of fish going right past us. Sometimes he would throw food into the water and all the fish would come to the surface so we could get a closer look. So much variety too. A few of the fish were really big, like the size of my thigh, just roaming around in the reef soaking up the sun shining through the water. I tried to reach out to a few but they moved too fast and would always know when I was reaching out to them! It's those eyes on the sides of their head!

Liam lent me a waterproof iPhone case while out here, so I took a few pics.

After our second snorkel, we made the long journey to Whitehaven beach. It was time to put up the sails! Putting up the sails was hard work, since it was a pretty big boat and a pretty big sail, we all had to work on the grinders together to raise the heavy sail. It was a bit easier to raise the front one. The crew said that the sail itself would cost nearly 1 million dollars to replace. Wow, no wonder boats are so expensive. On the way over there we got to see some whales as well. It wasn't the cliche whale jumping out of the water, but we definitely saw some blowhole spouting and some tail flips out of the water.

Finally we made it to Whitehaven beach. This beach has sand of 99.9% silica, which means it's the purest sand in the world. NASA supposedly uses it to make telescope lenses. We stopped on a little cove and hiked over to see the views and hang out on the beach for a bit. After a few hours chilling and playing some sports(American football and frisbee wooo) we headed back to the boat and anchored for another sunset evening. Oh yeah another sidenote, they call American football Grid Iron here in Australia. Grid Iron? I had never heard of that one before.

The rest of the trip was quite uneventful, just some sailing...except for the last bit on our way back to the harbor. There was another boat called Slap Me that apparently isn't very good. It's more of a budget option and the boat is slower and maybe the tour isn't as good? Anyway, our crew said they usually try to pass them to show them you get what you pay for haha. And they don't just pass them once, they do it twice.

Once we got close I realized the boat also has a big red handprint on the back of the ship. Quite appropriate for a boat called Slap Me. We passed them once, the crews exchanged insults. We were smiling and laughing, but I'm not sure if they were haha. One guy mooned us. Then we slowed down, let them pass, and did it again! This time we passed them into the distance at 7 knots with the mighty Boomerang and made it back to port well before them. Now we were back in the small beach town of Airlie Beach, ready to take on the evening.

Leaving things in taxis

I have 2 stories now of leaving things behind in taxis. You'll have to read more to discover what happens, but both are fun stories.

Story #1

The first time I left something behind was in Beijing, China. I was headed back to Beijing just for one night to catch my flight to Japan, after having already been to Beijing for a week before. I got in a taxi to go to my hostel from the airport, and there was a little TV screen on the headrest of the seat in front of me, bright and in my face. I couldn't turn it off or turn the brightness down so I took my shoulder bag that was given to me in India and lodged it over the screen so it wasn't blinding me. Anyway, I just got out of the cab without it since it wasn't on the seat where my stuff usually is, and walked up to my hostel. After knocking and waiting for answer, I looked at my stuff and realized my lapse. I looked at David, the owner of the hostel, as he answered the door and told him I left my bag in the taxi as I covered my face in disbelief. He logically asked if it was still there.

Then the gears started turning and I realized that we were in a hutong (alleyway) in Beijing and the taxi couldn't go that fast through it. Even though it had been maybe 2 minutes or so, it might still be in the Hutong! I left everything the care of David and took off running. I round the first corner and see a car far off in the distance. I can't tell if it's a taxi or not, but I continue running. This is a longer alleyway that you might think, so I was running for a good minute or so. I see the car in the distance now waiting at a light for the main street. As I get closer I realize it is a taxi...and probably my taxi! I get closer and closer, and I hope that the light stays red as long as possible, but right before I get there it turns green.

Noooooo!!

The taxi starts moving and I go to a full sprint to catch up with him in the middle of the intersection as he turns left. I banged on the window and got him to pull over so I could take my bag out as I panted. Whew, that was close. I walked back to find David patiently waiting and checked in while I panted the whole time from doing such a long sprint.

There was nothing even that important in the bag except for a camera battery and some earbuds, but it still would've been inconvenient to lose those and the special bag from India!

Story #2

So I'm in Sydney, Australia and I have to catch a 6:15am bus to a surf camp called MojoSurf at Arrawarra Beach, a place they dub Spot X. I take a cab at 6 or so to the central station, and while in the cab I handed my phone to the driver so he could look at the text the bus driver sent me. I must've just put it down on the seat and forgotten about it. It was still raining at 6:10am when we stopped at the station, so I jumped out, grabbed my two backpacks and ran for the covered area on the sidewalk. The taxi drove away pretty quickly, and I realized too late that I didn't have my phone. I ran after it for a few moments, but the cab was going way too fast for that. After searching my bags quickly, I was sure I had left it in the taxi.

Now I'm freaking out, because not only is this phone expensive, it is my only link to the bus I have to catch in 2 minutes and all the other people I've just met and all the other notes I've just written. Even though the taxi is definitely gone, I have a few ideas before I give up. First off, this was a taxi I had the hostel call for me, which means that the taxi company probably knows who they dispatched out to me and I can call them.

Fortunately, I have my iPhone from America, and even though at the time I had no roaming data for it, I had no choice. I pulled that out, got the hostel number, called them. No answer. Then I realized I could just call my phone...of course. But wait, I didn't know my new Aussie number! I had taken a picture of it when I first got my phone, but I switched memory cards a few days back and no longer had that quickly available on my camera. Still rushing as I can imagine the taxi driving farther and farther away, I frantically find the other memory card, pop it in my camera and get my phone number. I call it...it rings...no answer. I'm pretty sure it wasn't on silent. I call again...nothing. I call the hostel back...nothing.

Now that I've exhausted all of my options, I really start to freak out. I think by this time it's after 6:15am, and I haven't really moved from the place where the taxi left me and I have no idea where the bus is supposed to be because all I have is a text (on my lost phone) that says central station.

I now start to try and get ahold of the bus so I can find out where it is and maybe hold them off a bit. I pull out my voucher and call the numbers listed on there...no answer. The guy who's awake and on the bus doesn't have his cell listed on the voucher!

After standing there wondering what I'm to do for a few seconds, I see a bus that says OzExperience on the front, and MojoSurf along the side. Well hot damn that's my bus! I run over to it waving my arms, bang on it a few times, but it passes me by without anyone noticing. Another few seconds of failure pass over me, and I look the other way to see my taxi driver behind the bus with my phone in his hand! I run over and take my phone and give him a hug. That takes a huge weight off my shoulders. He tells me that's my bus. I agree, get my stuff, jump into the cab, and shout what I've always wanted to say after running into a cab, "Follow that bus!" Really I probably want to say follow that car but it's close enough.

Now that I have my phone I realize I've had some missed calls and texts, obviously from the guy on the bus. I call him back.

Me: Hi, it's Dylan.

Ross: Yeaah. You missed the bus.

Me: No, I'm in a taxi following you. All you have to do is stop for a minute and I can jump on. I see you turning left that's you right?

Ross: Yeah, that's us. 

*talking to bus driver or something*

Ok, we'll stop in a few minutes. See you soon.

Almost immediately the bus pulled over in an extra lane, and I jump out of the cab and onto the bus. By the way it's been pouring rain this entire time. I'm soaked, stressed, and I have so many different things in my hands from looking for my phone in the first place still that I'm worried I'm going to lose something else. But finally, I'm on the bus with everything I own (except for a charger I later realized I left at my hostel dorm, recovered later by a friend bringing it to Spot X), and I made it to Spot X that evening with no other problems. Whew.

Hari Hari, Hari Krishna, Rama Rama, Ramakrishna

So it's the end of my yoga ashram time, and I end up sharing a cab to the train station with this American guy from NYC I meet who is a Ramakrishnan devotee. If you want to read about the whole yoga ashram experience up to this point, read my previous blog posts Getting to Rishikesh, India and My Yoga Ashram Spiritual Experience in Rishikesh, India.

When I wake up at the ungodly hour of 4am to catch a cab to the train station, I soon get a call from this guy I've meet. It's been 2 months since this actually happened at the time of this writing so I don't remember his name, but I know met I met him he introduced himself with a complicated indian sounding name, but I later got it out of him that he has an English name too that he stopped using once he became a Ramakrishnan devotee. I'll call him Tom from now on.

On the phone I tell him I'm about to go pick him up at our specified place.

Me: "I'll see you soon"

Tom: "See you soon at the mercy of Ramakrishna."

Me: "Ok..."

Tom: "We'll be in front of the building in 5 minutes with the mercy of Ramakrishna."

Me: "Ok...see ya."

So we pick him up and him and his friend join me for the ride over. I'm sitting in the front, his friend is sitting behind me, and he's sitting in the other backseat. Other than introducing myself to his friend, I didn't speak to him at all. I just started talking with Tom. We do some traveling small talk like where we're going and what we're doing, but it quickly comes up about his life as a devotee. He talks about places he's been to promote Ramakrishna and how I should go to visit some of the Iskcon temples near Agra. At some point I mention I'm Jewish, and he says he's Jewish too. He seems to think of the Judaism religion and his devotion to Ramakrishna as distinct, separate things that both describe him, but he talks like Ramakrishnan plays a more major role in his life.

The entire time we're talking, I'm noticing that his friend sitting behind me has been mumbling under his breath. He's saying something like "Hari Krishna Ramakrishna Hari Hari Hari Krishna" really fast. It sounds like what they were singing with their song the night before. I ask Tom what he's doing back there, and says he's showing his respect for Ramakrishnan. Starting this conversation doesn't even phase his friend, who continues to mumble his respect. Tom says that every day, as devotees, they need to pay their respect to Ramakrishnan by essentially just repetitively saying his name for 2 hours. 2 hours every day!! I'm aghast with this new information, but Tom continues on.

Tom: "Usually I wake up at about 4:30am every morning so I can meet everyone for the group prayer at 5am. That's done by 6am so I then have 2 hours to pay my respects before it's even 8am. It works well for me."

In my head: "Whoa, how do you have time for anything else...and sleeping. Quite the devotee..."

Me: "Ok..."

I'm really in disbelief at this point. I could never handle something like that. We finally get to the train station, and I kind of want to shake them before he tries even more to make me a devotee. I hope they aren't on the same train as me. They're headed to New Delhi, and I'm going to Agra a bit farther south than Delhi. We pay and I say goodbye and maybe I'll see ya later. Then I head off to find my seat on the train while they're getting their luggage out of the taxi.

It's still super early, about 6am, so I find my sleeper seat next to a family of four and pass out.

I wake up a bit later, more refreshed at about 10am. The train doesn't get to agra until about 3pm or so, so I have a bit of time to chill. Soon afterwards while I'm hanging out, Tom walks by! We say hi to each other and he comes to sit down. He comes with food though, so I'm ok with that. He starts giving me fresh dates, mmm, weird "packed with vitamin c" fruit, and some kind of weird nuts. After the food he gives me a little book that's an Into to Ramakrishna. I took it so as not to be rude, but I left it at the next hostel I stayed at. He continues to tell me that I should go to another one of these "holy" cities. I've definitely had enough of the holy cities with Rishikesh, but there's this one he keeps talking about north of Agra that has all sorts of temples and is the birthplace of Ramakrishna.

At one point he starts showing me some pictures and videos on his iPad of places he went with other devotees to spread the word. At one point he was talking about how Russia was trying to ban the Ramakrishan book, and they organized a parade to protest that. I asked why they would try to ban it, and his answer was pretty much that he didn't know. I haven't done too much research into it, but I think he knew but was in somewhat denial that the teachings are kind of a cult religion that Russia doesn't want its citizens being a part of. But then again that's religious freedom, right?

I also realized that when I was in New Delhi, I actually ended up going to an Iskcon temple. We got drawn in from the noticeable architecture(check it out on wikipedia) and it ended up having a party going on when we arrived. Once I thought about it they must've been singing the same song they always sing. I showed Tom pictures and he mentioned that's where he was going in New Delhi as well.

I'll take this time to describe the look of Tom. He only had on an orange robe and some kind of sandals or flip flops (I don't remember). The robe wasn't at all like robes monks wear, it didn't seem to out of the ordinary. He also had an interesting haircut. His head was mostly bald with just the top of his head with hair in a little tiny pony tail. On the front of his face he had some painting from the top of his nose up to his forehead. It looked like a little bit extra on top of what most Indians have with just the dot on their forehead. Since we'd been traveling all morning the paint looked like it was crumbling off his skin a bit. I asked him how often he re-applied it, and the answer led to even more interesting facts as I asked for clarification.

He said that he reapplied it after every shower. Well how much does he shower? 3-5 times a day! Whoa. He can't use soap every time right? There's no need. Well actually he doesn't use soap at all. Actually he showers with 2 towels. One he keeps dry and hangs on a hook. The other he actually wears into the shower. So he doesn't actually shower naked, he says he thinks it's disrespectful to Lord Krishna. After he showers by just rubbing down his body with water, he drys himself with the dry towel and then wipes himself down with the wet towel. He says he thinks he gets a better clean that way (by using the wet towel afterwards). Radical, I tell you.

Every time I hear another answer to a clarifying question I'm more and more surprised. That is the weirdest shower routine I have ever heard of. Anyway, he puts back on his face paint after every shower.

We talk about a few other things, but nothing as interesting as what I wrote here. His stop at Delhi came up before too long so we said our goodbyes and I had some time to enjoy my last train(and yummy meal) before I headed off to the rest of my trip in Rajasthan, India!

My Yoga Ashram Spiritual Experience in Rishikesh, India

Read my post of Getting to Rishikesh to find out why and how I went to Rishikesh, India in the first place. Recommended to read first.

Anyway, so I arrive at Rishikesh at 5am, kind of tired from not sleeping a lot and from the crazy epic day I had before. (As I said, go read Getting to Rishikesh).

I show up at the Yoga Ashram I have booked at 5am, and everything is very quiet. But it's not because no one's around. People are around, but no one is talking and it's completely silent. I have some booking problems because it was double booked or something like that so I end up in another hotel around the corner...whatever at least it had a nice view of the mountains.

I find a little schedule paper at the front of the ashram. Since it's Sunday, it's the only day that there isn't a set schedule. The whole day has no official yoga sessions, but you can do free yoga and meditation from 5am to 8am in the upstairs studio. Since it's just about that time, I go up there and do my own thing, as well as watching and listening to what other people are doing. Only a few people struck me as odd. One guy was just laying down breathing weird (really just breathing exercises I have discovered), and a few other people were laying down probably in shavasana. After a while of that I explore the ashram a little, they have a nice rooftop with a great few of the mountains, so I watch the sun rise.

All this time I've heard not a word from anyone. I think something's up, but I'm not sure what. I tried to take a few pictures of myself and then a girl sees me and offers to do it for me. The first words I've heard spoken all day! We talk for a little, and I tell her that I'm new here, but she doesn't tell me about this silent time I have yet to completely understand.

As you can see by the picture it was also a bit cool in the night and morning, but got nice during the day. "Om" in hindi was written on the wall on the roof. Anyway, I hang out for a little longer, get weird looks and no words from people if I try to talk to them, and finally it's 8am for breakfast. We go into this room with little stools that are actually tables for the meal. We sit on the floor and wait while our meal is served by the volunteers who are training to become yoga instructors. Still in silence. By this time I know better than to speak, it's obviously some kind of silent time. Breakfast goes by in complete silence...only the clatters of spoons and dishes as people ate.

Breakfast consisted of dates (which were pretty hard and not fresh, so it took a few days until I actually knew what they were considering I wasn't supposed to talk during breakfast and by the end I would usually forget to ask), some main course like a somosa or some kind of rice or oatmeal dish. Maybe an orange sometimes (like in the picture, yes it's actually an orange). Whatever it was it was vegan and healthy. I had to make sure to finish my first course by the time the servers came around with seconds so I could maximize the amount of food I got at every meal...there was rarely enough to really fill me up.

Finally breakfast is over and it's time for the real day to start. People start talking, people are friendly, it's nice and relaxing. Ahh I'm at the yoga ashram.

Every day but Sunday there is a set schedule at the Anand Prakash Yoga Ashram:
5:30 am - optional meditation time
6:00 am - morning yoga session (usually lasts until 7:45ish)
8:00 am - breakfast
8:30 am - some kind of chanting and singing session around a fire
9:00 am - silent time ends
12:00 pm - lunch
4:00 pm - afternoon yoga session (usually lasts until 5:45ish)
6:00 pm - dinner
7:30 pm - tea time
9:00 pm - silent time starts
9:30 pm - ashram doors close and lock (curfew! I don't even know when they open again, maybe 5am?)

Since there isn't really a set schedule for anything on Sunday, I decided to go rafting on the river Ganges that Sunday. It was actually a lot of fun, except for the fact that my camera broke...and I still don't even think it was water damage that did it in. Everything was in the dry bag, and the rafting guides started to open it up to take pictures of us at times. The first time they did it they I got my camera out for them, but then they did it another time without asking, and he comes up to me and asks, "Is the battery dead?" I had put a new one in the day before or so, so it definitely shouldn't have been dead, but the camera was off with the lens stuck open. It never did anything ever again. Fortunately insurance paid to get a new one, but I didn't find the same one until I got to Hong Kong a week or two later. Here's the last picture he took before it broke (some of the other pictures are from my phone cam).

The actual rafting was some of the best rafting I'd done in a while. Nice big rapids with clean, crisp, cold water, since in Rishikesh the water comes straight from the Himalayas. The guides were even drinking it. They even had a little break with (small) cliff jumping and guys selling cookies and making you ramen masala they call Maggi. Mmm it was tasty.

I made it back for dinner and some socializing with some other folks at the ashram, but people go to bed soon after dinner since you have to wake up at 4-5am for morning yoga!

The days of the real yoga ashram were busier than I thought! Since it was raining the first morning, we went to the downstairs studio since the upstairs studio would be really loud with the clattering rain.

The downstairs studio is, however, much smaller, and it could barely hold everyone. Because of this I thought, it was a much more relaxed session with lots of...actually I barely remember because I was half passed out the entire time. That'll happen at 6am yoga when you're laying down on a comfy mat. There was a lot more chanting that I was used to, where we said "Ommmmmmmmmmmmm. Shaan-ti, shaan-ti, shaan-tiiiiii. Ommmmmmm." There was also a lot of breathing exercises, where we had to practically hyperventilate ourselves breathing in and out only through our noses.

All the other morning yoga sessions were up in the upstairs studio, with the sun streaming in mid-session as the sun rose. They also had a bit more physical activity yoga, but still always a bit of chanting and breathing to do as well.

The chanting session after breakfast was also interesting. A few people would sit around a fire as a leader changed songs and we threw spices and oil into the fire. I'm still not quite sure what it was all about.

The afternoon yoga sessions are usually less crowded or near empty, since many people just don't show up for it or do their own practice (so they just go to the rooftop and practice on their own for a while), so the afternoon sessions are in the downstairs studio. I didn't want to miss this, since I was only here for a few days I wanted to get all the yoga I could out of it!

In the breaks between yoga sessions, I usually just hung out with others from the ashram. We went up to a monk temple to see a view of the distant Himalayas. You can see them waaay in the distance.

We went over to the beach of the river Ganges. The girl and guy in the right of this picture were tasked with dunking themselves into the river Ganges every day as part of their yoga teachings...so they jumped in clothes and all. It was pretty cold too.

I also played a little ukulele and met some Indian guy who was doing some sort of ritual washing.

We also explored the town a bit. The easiest way to explore the town was to cross this "walking" bridge over the Ganges over to some area with some main shops. You'd think it would be a nice relaxing walk over the river, but thanks to all the motobikes that were apparently allowed to cross it as well, it was the most stressful part of the walk. The motobikes would go down this path, honking at all the pedestrians to get out of their way and zooming past them. Very few were actually considerate in not beeping as much and going a little slower. Whew, oh India.

And once you got across this bridge, it was this small street that could only fit one car through, lined with nice shops. But again, there were no rules against cars and motobikes driving through, so there was just constant honking from all the vehicles trying to get through, and you could often not even hear yourself think as people held down their horns, even in the shops. So much for getting away from the city!

I also ended up unfortunately spending much of my extra time trying to book a train ticket away from Rishikesh. Like getting my ticket to Rishikesh, it was difficult because it was booked and I had to wait until 24 hours before it left and then go to a travel agency to have them do it for me. Once I knew what to do it was ok, but no one had any good info so I tried in vain for a few days before I finally got it (the day before I left).

Another thing to note is that Rishikesh is a meat and alcohol free town! Although that did make it easy to go to sleep after dinner since I knew there was no nightlife at all, and I had to wake up at 4 or 5am to do it all again. Here I am with the head yogi of the ashram.

On my last night of the yoga ashram, there was a special event where a Hari Krishna group was going to come and play some music. They set up their equipment in the upstairs studio and after dinner people started to flock in.

They sang their songs (or should I say song) and told stories about Hari Krishna and Ramakrishna. The song was pretty much the same thing but with sometimes a different tune. You can probably find it on Google somewhere. I had no idea what this was about (seemingly a common occurrence of Rishikesh in hindsight while writing this...I don't know why I didn't ask more questions. I think the answers didn't make much sense), but apparently it's some sort of religion? But not really? I still don't completely understand. Anyway, we sang and danced and had a good time, and at some point one of the guys mentioned he was headed out on a train the next morning. I had to go to the train station at around that time too, and a taxi was kind of expensive because of the distance, so I approached him about sharing a cab. I already had a cab set up, so I agreed to pick him up the next morning after I caught it at 4am. There's a whole nother story about my experience with this Hari Krishna guy, written in my next blog post here.

Getting to Rishikesh, India...the worst day ever

About halfway through my trip in India, I noticed that the spiritual experience that I thought would come to me naturally wasn't happening. I had to do something about this, but I didn't know what. I was thinking about heading north to one of the towns with a spiritual reputation, but some of those places would take a bit of time to actually get there. On my flight to New Delhi, I sat next to another American who was going to Rishikesh to practice yoga and become an instructor. Perfect. I picked his brain and found out that Rishikesh was only 4-5 hours away from New Delhi, among other things. We also talked a lot about burning man, and he told me of his experiences there the last few years. I can't wait to do that next year! Burning man 2013!

Anyway, I decided I was going to Rishikesh, but as with most things in India, booking a train ticket was a complete mess. The servers never work so you can't book anything (actually you can't anyway because they don't accept foreign credit cards) and travel agents can't book anything and...you get the picture. So after spending the day and night in New Delhi I decided to just show up at the train station for a train that was booked. They were always all booked, and the guys at the hostel said that I could just get a standing room ticket or something even if it was full. What a mess I was about to get into. I may not remember all the specifics because it's been about 2 months now at the time of this writing and it's a somewhat repressed memory hah.

So I show up at 2:30pm or so hoping to get a ticket for the 3:30pm train. The train station is bustling with Indians, not a foreigner in sight. I tried to go to a line that said "Current Reservation & Cancellation", and after fighting my way through the throngs of indians trying to cut in front of me I finally made it to the front where everyone was yelling and trying to get standing room like me I think. Everyone around me spoke only Hindi.

The lady didn't really understand English either so when I got to it she wasn't much help for me either, but she told me to go upstairs and I could do it there. So I go upstairs, and on the way I see a tourist office. I go into the nice, peaceful, empty office and talk to the lady there who speaks some English, but she pretty much tells me everything is full and says I should go to platform 1 where there's this tourist office of some sort. I don't really understand though because it seems like I'm in a tourist office. She also doesn't stress really how important it was to go to this specific tourist office.

Anyway I go upstairs and wait in another line, this time a few Indians try to help me and talk to Hindi with the people who tell me to go there, and then not there, but there, and then not there, but downstairs to where I was in the first place! I think by this point it's past 3:30pm so now I'm just trying to get any train to Rishikesh. Really though you're going to Haridwar, which is a city nearby, and then taking a taxi to Rishikesh since there's only 1 train a day directly to Rishikesh. So I go back downstairs and talk to them again after fighting through the line, and this time the lady can speak a bit more English and starts telling me all the trains later in the day that I can catch, but I can't book them with her. No, I have to go to a different train station to try to book it there. Seems like a pain. I leave again with just a note of train numbers and names of the station they leave at.

Picture of homeless people at the train station:

Now I go back to the tourist office I went to in the first place and she tells me again to go to this other tourist office, and I really have nothing left to try unless I want to go to another train station so I made the trek over there. It was quite a walk since I had to go upstairs and around and across 16 platforms to the other side where I finally started seeing signs for the foreign tourist ticket office. On my walk over there I encountered another clueless foreign tourist and I just told him to follow me. I finally arrive and I feel like I've walked into heaven. Quiet, calm, and people actually selling tickets. Seriously I'm not sure if there were any tickets being sold to anyone in the other area of the train station, it was like hell. So back in heaven, I see other foreigners who speak English and we all talk about our crazy experiences of finding this office. I think by this time it's now 4:30 or later, and it's taken me 2 hours to find this place haha. I was also somewhat stubborn in not going to it when I first heard about it, but then again I thought it was going to be the same as the messes I was in before. So I fill out a form of what I want, and wait in a small line to buy my ticket.

While in this line, I'm approached by another foreigner who turns out to be an American from Boston. He tells me he's studying there and he wants to go someplace (I don't remember where), but the train is booked for the Indian quota and they won't sell him a ticket here because he doesn't have a tourist visa, he has a student visa (so I think they have special tickets at this tourist office that they sell only to tourists even if the train is "full" with the Indian quota or something like that...I'm still not really sure how it all works). I see where this is headed, but I keep listening. He wants me to buy him the ticket using my name and passport number. Right about then it's my turn and I kind of tell him I'll think about it and go to the desk.

The guy shows me my options, and I begin to realize how this all works. First of all some of the trains I was thinking about catching are only on certain days of the week. That's was displayed on computers using a nondescript dash system with 7 dashes and the first letter of the days at the top, so it's easy to miss among the hecticness of nearby hell. So the next train is actually a night train that leaves at 10pm and gets in around 4am. Fine, I guess I'm doing the overnight. I get a second class sleeper and it's pretty cheap, I think under $10 or so.

So now that I have my ticket, I look at it to find no indication of my name or passport anywhere, and decide what the hell I'll help out a fellow citizen, especially since he offered to slightly compensate me for the risk and inconvenience. So I fill out another form with him telling me what to put in and I sketchily buy a ticket using his money. Whew, I have a ticket, he has a ticket, everyone's happy. Except now it's 5pm or so and my train isn't for 5 hours.

So we go downstairs back to hell and find the cloak room so I can drop off my bag, since I've been carrying it around this entire time and it's killing me. There's also a crazy line for that with everyone just cutting everyone because really there is no line. Another 30 minutes passes before I actually get my bag in there. Boston says that there's a nice rooftop restaurant nearby, so we leave hell and make it to a nice rooftop bar for some food.

Now we say our goodbyes and I explore the city a little bit more with the time I have left. This is another series of stressful experiences with tuk tuk drivers and cycle rickshaws trying to rip me off and screw at every opportunity possible, as well as getting chased at and barked at by crazy probably rabies infested dogs. Whatever, I eventually make it back to the train station for my train, catch it, meet a cool Japanese guy, sleep a little, and wake up literally at 4:02am and realize that the train is stopped at the station and I have to get off at that moment. Boom fast pack-up (not much I didn't really unpack) and escape from the train before it leaves the Haridwar station. I take my overpriced taxi ride into town, a little less than an hour away, and make it to Rishikesh by sunrise at about 5am.

To find out more about what happens once I arrive in Rishikesh, see my next blog post on My Yoga Ashram Spiritual Experience in Rishikesh, India.