Unplugging?

Today we had a quiet morning of packing and museum-going before heading to the airport. It's the beginning of the dig -- we met the other professor and two students at the airport. One other student will join us tomorrow at the ferry and then we're off to Samothrace, a remote island, for six weeks. I'm not sure if I'll love it, or if I'll simply feel like a caged animal. However, similar to my decision to learn to love fish this summer, I have decided that I will love it. I also purchased some pool toys today so that, between writing dissertations and digging up artifacts, a bunch of art history and archeology nerds can blow off steam playing 'chicken' at the beach.

The group seems very fun. We just shared a delicious meal together on the shore. I love the way you order and eat in Greece -- the waiter gives you a vague idea of what's available, you give him a vague idea of your preferences, and over the next two hours delicious little plates of food and bottles of wine arrive. It's great. I'll have to seek this out in New York more often.

It seems, however, that I will only have email access every other day. I know how this will affect your procrastination at work and at home. My apologies. We will apparently have a phone and I will post the number soon.

I am a little nervous about being 'unplugged' in this very plugged in world, but it is probably healthy to step away from the screen. Stay tuned!

Athens Attacks: Killer Heat Wave Wilts 3 Young Women

Photos: Cindy and Genevieve enjoying an evening cocktail; crazy crowds at the Propylaia; off-center caryatids; the Parthenon; and the Parthenon at night.

We managed to spend three days in Athens during the most unusual heat wave in recent memory. It was 116 the day we arrived, apparently, and temperatures have topped 100 degrees ever since. Leave it to me to find the least comfortable places to visit! Cindy, Genevieve and I are staying in an un-air-conditioned hostel. They have been very good sports about the heat, and I 'borrowed' an extra fan from the common area, so we're surviving. Yesterday we trekked through the National Archeological Museum and the Islamic museum before meeting Eliza, another Samothrace-bound IFA student, and her mother for a delicious dinner. Eliza and Mrs. Lee were our informants about the heat, and I think we were all relieved to know that we weren't wimps -- it really WAS very hot. So hot, actually, that the government closed access to the Parthenon and the Agora!

Today, despite continuing warm weather, we hiked to the top of the hill to inspect the ruins. The route is called the Panathenian way -- a winding path that devotees would follow during the great festivals honoring the goddess Athena. Worshippers would enter through the Propylaia, an impressive entryway that conceals your view of the Parthenon before dramatically exposing it as you pass through the arch. My favorite part of the Parthenon complex, however, is the Erechtheion -- the sacred space where the goddess Athena was actually kept. I love the graceful, solid caryatids (the woman serving as pillars). It was a great morning; completely exhilarating despite the heat, the crowds, and the smog-obscured views of modern Athens. After such incredible heat, we found a rooftop pool and spent the day there before wandering around the monuments at night (bad photo here). For a perfect end to the evening, Cindy and I raced to the Benaki Museum, an extraordinary house museum compiled by a Greek collector. They are open until midnight on Thursdays, and so we had an hour to wander through the collection after dinner. It was no where near enough time -- but it is a real joy to travel with people who think midnight expeditions to museums counts as 'fun.'

So much has changed since my last trip to Athens -- the subway is larger, cleaner and has digital information about the next trains; the drachma has been replaced by the Euro; the streets are cleaner; everything is labeled; simply stated, it is much friendlier to foreign tourists. Cindy imagines that this is the result of the Olympics. Probably true.

Tomorrow, we depart for Alexandropoulos. From there, we will take a ferry to Samothrace on Saturday morning. I'm looking forward to meeting the three non-IFA students and to eventually unpacking all my things! What a relief it will be to stop digging through my bag!

Academics in Athens

The world is very small. This morning, I enjoyed a coffee with Emilia and the bambine at their home in Caserta, and then I had a nice coffee and cornetto a crema with Frederick at the airport. By lunchtime, I met my friend Cindy, a fellow IFA student, in Athens. Air travel is amazing. It's 100 degrees here (wow, flashbacks to India!) but we enjoyed wandering the city and seeing new sights. Few people will ask (or indulge) questions about the style of scrolls on an early Byzantine church, so it's fun to be in the company of other art nerds. Last time I visited Athens, I was busy spending time with an attractive man that I met on the plane -- this time, I only had eyes for the Acropolis. Here is a pretty bad photo of the Temple of Hephaestus. Cindy and I wandered the agora, and then around the bottom of the hill where we found a fun concert. A few young women pinned 'I love life!' stickers on us, but who knows what that was about! After some more wandering, we found a delicious little Greek bistro with super-garlicky tsatziki and delicious stuffed grape leaves. This is a fabulous welcome to my home for two months! I'm settling in to the hotel with another fellow student, Genevieve, and preparing to take on the city tomorrow. yay!

Euro-kids

This is my last day with the three belle bambine. We went to the pool at 9 this morning. It turns out that we 1.) were not supposed to be there until after 11; 2) aren't supposed to eat or drink on the pool deck; 3) should have paid an entry charge and 4) needed to show our IDs to half of the pool so that they would know we weren't terrorists. Basically, on our first trip to the pool, we broke 5 of the 6 published rules. Oh well!

In the afternoon we took a walk, all five of us in nice dresses. As a group, we really turned heads -- sometimes because of how cute the girls are, and sometimes due to the unholy wailing coming from indignant little people in the stroller who preferred to walk. We meant to play in the park after finishing our errands, but the pool made the girls a little tired, so instead we stopped into a cafe. I have never heard three girls under five squeal with such delight 'Cafe!' I think they assume that 'cafe' is a synonym for 'gelato.' This was fine by me -- Emilia and I enjoyed a delicious Sicilian pastry with cream in the center (almost like a cornetto a crema, my favorite breakfast ever) and a cappuccino while the girls stuffed their faces full of mini cakes and strawberry gelato. It was another fun, long day. My hat is off to any and all parents reading this blog -- kids are a blast, but they sure do take a lot of energy! Here are some last photos of the fabulous Woods kids: Olivia and Isabella eating gelato fragola; Emilia and Sophia, like mother, like daughter; Isabella and Sophia playing along a fence.

Gelato with the bambine!

Today we were very good in church and so we had some gelato -- here are the photos of our delicious outing. Olivia waits expectantly for her ice cream; Olivia devours gelato; Emilia demonstrates proper gelato-eating technique to Isabella; birds-eye view of Sophia taking a sip of water. For the rest of the day, we decided to hang out at home (it was too hot for the park, really) and to play with finger paints and these markers that let you draw on the window. It was lots of fun. It was a bit surprising, though, to suddenly realize that I'm entering a new era. Now that many of my friends have kids, there's no avoiding the fact that we're the adults. Olivia came up to talk to Emilia today, wiggling around to try to get our attention. We were sitting on a lounge chair, in sundresses, with our hair pulled back in a more utilitarian than fashionable manner. As Emilia reminded Olivia not to interrupt and I inspected the finger paint on my knees, I suddenly realized that this was a familiar scene -- but now, instead of being the antsy four-year-old, I was the 'adult' chatting! Luckily, I then got to splash around in the kiddie pool and play with play-doh and laugh with my friends about silly things, and I remembered that I'm still under 30. Whew.

Lazy Saturday, Caserta style

I have completely enjoyed and appreciated the amazing art and sites and cities I've been able to visit in the past month. But relaxing with friends is still my idea of the perfect vacation. Today was wonderful -- good friends, delicious summer food, sultry weather and three funny children. Here are the promised photos of the belle bambine -- Olivia after her first swim lesson, looking like a small orange burrito in front of her mom, Emilia; and the twins Isabella and Sophia engrossed with playdoh on the porch. After Olivia's swim lesson at the American base, we went grocery shopping in what seemed like a small slice of the US -- prices in dollars, American brands, the ability to return items. It was surreal. I wonder how they get everything here. Are we really using our tax dollars to airlift fruit loops and Oscar Meyer wieners to American families stationed overseas? I wonder whose job it is to take care of the Ore Ida french fries shipment each month...

In the afternoon we had a delicious lunch and joined the girls for their siesta (yay!) because Mom, Dad and Kate had all stayed up too late the night before. For the rest of the afternoon we played on the swings, enjoyed dripping sparkles all over the house from some bangles I brought from India, played with Play-doh, and otherwise relaxed and had fun. It was so great to unwind and chat with friends big and small. Tomorrow, it's off to church and then the park -- a stunning expanse in front of an 18th century castle. If we are good in Church, there might even be a trip to the gelateria. (I plan to be perfectly well-behaved.) I can already tell it will be a great day.

In lovely Caserta, a Casa Woods

The Italian train service staff were on strike today, but they graciously scheduled the strike in advance so that you knew which trains were running before you bought your ticket. Thanks to this clever and thoughtful approach, I made it to Caserta today only 15 minutes behind schedule. It is so nice to be among friends, and not only because I feel safe walking around barefoot for the first time in 15 days or so. Emilia and Frederick live about 40 minutes from Naples. They are both FANTASTIC cooks and they have three charming daughters -- Olivia, who is 4 and much taller than last year, and the twins Isabella and Sophia, who now have a mop of black hair and a significantly larger vocabulary. I have yet to spring the finger paints and play-doh on them, mainly because I was afraid to be tossed out of the house before nightfall, but I hope we can get into messy fun things tomorrow. I will also take some photos to share how adorable they are. I almost fell over laughing today -- Isabella and Sophia use the (clean) bidet as a mini-sink to wash up before dinnertime. There is nothing funnier than seeing this brilliant American approach to European plumbing, especially by such small citizens. I think the soap they were using was bigger than their heads! I'll try to catch them with a photo tomorrow,

Last night in Bangkok! Er, Florence

Today was a tourist day. I met my professor this morning to discuss my thesis, and she gave me a much more manageable framework that I had envisioned. It seems I had confused 'masters thesis' with 'dissertation.' She is a lovely person, too, so it was really nice to see her here. No, I don't think any school people are reading the blog, so I am not sucking up. She suggested that, rather than continue to fight Italian bureaucracy, I should just go see some great works at the Palazzo Pitti that are completely unrelated to my thesis. I wandered around enjoying Titians, Raphaels and many, many Andrea del Sarto pieces in the former Medici palace. This was after a great lunch. In the evening, I shopped for toys for the kiddies, presents for family, and then I finally caved and bought a bikini. They are super cheap here, and very pretty, and the gelato has not totally wrecked my waistline yet.

Notable things today: an hour ago, a man actually invited me to his apartment for a rather explicit reason within five minutes of conversation. Honestly. Our chat went from Scheggia to something else entirely at warp speed. He really meant it, at least, if I was willing to go along with it. These guys are BRAZEN. Yes, he was cute. No, I didn't go.

I accidentally bought a gelato with raw eggs in it. I am allergic to raw eggs. I had to THROW IT AWAY!!! WHERE WERE YOU PEOPLE WHEN I NEEDED YOU? THIS IS A TRAVESTY! LOST GELATO!!!!

Art in Hiding

Okay, don't worry -- in two days, I'm off to see Frederick, Emilia and the three adorable Woods children, so I will stop talking about art soon. Today was all about art in hiding. I went to Santa Trinita to look at a Madonna and Child by Scheggia. I have now taken to carrying pictures of what I'm looking for so that I can be very clear (when you ask an Italian guard, "Where is the Madonna and Child by Scheggia?" they say, "There are many Madonnas and Child here. Did you know that Scheggia is Masaccio's younger brother?" "Yes." "Oh. Well, I don't know where it is." This in Italian, broken on my side.) The sweet older guard and the church warden told me that the piece I wanted was upstairs, safe from robbery. I explained that I was not a robber. They laughed, and went upstairs to fetch the painting. They actually CARRIED IT DOWNSTAIRS LIKE A LAPTOP! Just grabbing the edge of one side! I couldn't believe it. I was afraid they'd drop it. But all was well, and I took a good look, and they then insisted that I take photos. With flash. Rather different from your usual museum experience.

One hidden picture found, I left for Arezzo, where the Museum staff had told me (per telephone) that the piece I wanted wasn't available because it was 'behind the walls.' I thought this was a way of saying 'in storage' so that I would understand (I am constantly playing Taboo here -- "May I have a utensil that opens wine bottles? Do you sell things for the feet that are not shoes? If there are eggs in this, are they cooked ones?" I should really learn more words.) But no! It turns out that ALL the art is literally behind some walls. They installed a new exhibition on these temporary walls built literally in front of the permanent collection! So there is absolutely no way to see anything behind the walls for two months! Crazy. Well, such is life! The woman in the bookshop explained, "only four people a day ever come to see the permanent collection. We didn't think they'd mind."

PS -- had a delicious lunch at my favorite lunch place -- an outpost of a local vineyard. This did not disappoint. They make these amazing open faced sandwiches (prosciutto and melon, salami and fig, chicken and garlicky cheese and tomato, salty cheese with carrot, apple, jicama and olive oil). Mmmm. Life is good.

More art, more come-ons, and more gelato.

The promised photos -- the beautiful sunset from Piazzale Michelangelo; me, in said repaired glasses, with some nice Greek kids, watching the sunset; Donatello's moving Penitent Magdalene; some modern Florentines dressed like 15th century Florentines for no apparent reason.

This morning was GREAT. One of the museums I would like to visit, Museo Stibbert, responded to my request to see some pieces that aren't on public view and so I raced over before they could change their minds. The director, Charles Fuchs, showed me and another guest around the villa-cum-museum that houses the collection of Frederick Stibbert, who was phenomenally interested in armor. They have the largest collection of Japanese armor outside of Japan. After ooh-ing and aah-ing over the amazing pieces, I saw the small items that affect my paper, and then headed for ANOTHER museum. The Accademia, where they house Michelangelo’s David, had a two hour line! At least I queued next to an interesting couple from California -- they kindly held my place while I ran for a gelato.

In the evening, I went for a walk around the piazzas and managed to run into Marco, Mr. I'll-make-you-a-cappuccino-at-my-house. After introducing me to another gelato place (yes, I have a problem), Marco offered me 1.) a foot rub, and 2.) a second chance to see his house since he 'had to shower.' I passed, but not before discovering that we were in the same restaurant at the same time on Saturday! Florence is a VERY small place. Marco finally understood that I would not join him a casa sua, so I sat in the piazza to read when a fifty+ year old man sat down to chat. At first, I was annoyed -- but then I thought I'd practice my Italian. We chatted for 25 minutes or so (I honestly didn't know that I knew that much Italian!) before he invited me on a date. I of course claimed that I'm getting married in March. You're all invited.

Art. And then some more art.

Today was another busy day of art-viewing. It is perhaps at this point in the trip that many of you are happy not to actually be here with me. The other people in the hostel are completely dismayed at the amount of time I spend in museums -- but I'm breaking things up with two gelato stops a day, so it is the perfect week, in my opinion. This morning I went to the Palazzo Davanzati, a house-museum that has been closed to the public since 1995 (except for their ground floor, which is open on Fridays). Palazzo Davanzati happens to hold five works by Scheggia and so they were kind enough to let me in anyway. It is always so humbling and wonderful to be in a room by yourself with a work you admire, with no milling crowds to bump you or look at you - and the guards always seem almost flattered that you'd go through the effort to view their inaccessible collection. It was a great morning. I finished the day doing more Scheggia research and then headed to the Cathedral museum, where they have sculptures by Donatello and Michelangelo, as well as the original panels from the Gates of Paradise. AMAZING. After all that art, my feet hurt, but I still climbed the hill to the Piazzale Michelangelo to see the sun set over Florence. Unfortunately, I sat in melted ice cream or spilled soda or something, and also got hit on by a very scruffy looking young man. These incidents nearly ruined the lovely, romantic view. But Kerri bequeathed me sink-size packets of Tide before she went home, so now I'm clean and tired and happy and looking forward to more time, and more art, in Florence. I took decent photos of the view, I hope to add them tomorrow!

PS -- It was SO HOT in India that my GLASSES MELTED. I went to the optometrist because the lenses fell out of my frames. He asked me if I'd left them on a stove or on the dashboard in the sun. When I explained that they were safely in my bag, in a case, for four weeks, but that I'd been in India, he said, "How hot WAS it?" I am super-impressed with myself for not melting or dying in the heat. You can choose to be impressed or not, at your discretion.

How the Mighty Have Fallen

Acqua al Due has been my favorite restaurant anywhere in the world since 1999. In 2001 there was a strong contender in Abuja, Nigeria -- Wahoos, or something, a delicious Indian place -- but Acqua al Due won on the strength of their pasta assagio. The Pasta Assagio is a series of five different types of pasta, allowing the diner to sample a number of different tastes in one meal. Last night, I went to Acqua al Due with Ana and David, expecting a phenomenal experience of pasta-liciousness. Unfortunately, the entire experience was lackluster. The pasta dishes were the same as the ones I sampled on my last trip, instead of spontaneous tastings of the dishes that your neighboring diners ordered. And the service was awful. Sigh. I guess I'll have to start the search for a new favorite (yum!).

Today I spent hours gawking in the Uffizi. The visit was free, thanks to my magic NYU letter stating that I am a budding art historian. It was so amazing to see so many masterpieces in one place. After that, I floated through the day, visiting the funerary chapel of the Medicis designed by Michelangelo, and having a tasty dinner with some very fun girls from Flint, Michigan. The night ended with a fantastic drink at an open-air bar near our hotel (only Italians would have a weekly DJed party on a Sunday night) and now I'm off to bed. Wow, I love it here!

Viva Italia!

Today was BEAUTIFUL. I am so happy, people are smiling at me in the street -- although this afternoon, I realized that they were actually just smiling back. I haven't been in Italy in the summer since 1999, and I forgot that it is so exceedingly wonderful here in this season. I usually visited in the winter, when it's cheaper and work was slower. But it's glorious -- perfect temperature, warm sun, fluffy clouds against that famous Tuscan blue sky, rolling hills -- just lovely. Okay, after that tirade, you might expect better pictures than this one, but this is all I've got -- a view of the Ponte Vecchio with the hills and clouds behind it.

yesterday I wandered around Florence (in clean clothes!!!) enjoying views of the outside of Orsanmichele, the Doors of Paradise on the Baptistery, the Duomo, San Lorenzo -- basically, all sorts of images I've been studying all year and can now see in person. I won't bore you with how exciting that is to me, but my little budding art historian's heart is aflutter. I was not as impressed with the Italian man who asked me directions, and then offered me a cappuccino at 'the best place in town.' I was jet-lagged, so it took me a walk to discover that the 'best place in town' was, indeed, his apartment. I declined on the doorstep. I did get an invitation to dinner this week, but I think I'll pass! Instead, I joined the NYU/taxi girl, Ana, and her friend David for pizza, wine and a tasty salad with the milkiest mozzarella ever. I happened to run into them in front of Santa Croce -- nice coincidence!

This morning I did some work for school, visiting San Giovanni Valdarno to study works by Scheggia, Masaccio's little brother. It's a good thing I'm traveling alone -- I spent two hours looking at two pictures! After a super-tasty farmer's market lunch, I went back to Florence and gawked at the amazing things inside Santa Maria Novella -- home of Masaccio's Trinita fresco, a beautiful set of frescos by Domenico Ghirlandaio, and... actually, I'm not going to list the amazing-ness. I could never fit it all in. But suffice to say, it was wonderful -- and nicely capped off by my first gelato of the day! I'm off to Mass and then to dinner with the NYU people at my favorite restaurant EVER! YAY! Hope your Saturdays are just as great!

All that's old is new again

I wanted to post a list of 10 things that Kerri and I learned in India, but waiting in the airport at 2 AM, we mainly came up with a list of gripes (always bring TP! Don't expect that the directions anyone gives you are ever correct! Watch out for flying spit! Cows ALWAYS have the right of way -- Kerri having figured that out when trying, with no success at all, to push past one in the market). So those are lame things, and not very much reflective of the trip so much as of the hour of departure. Maybe Kerri can post her thoughts? Anyone else have great travel lessons?

Once we boarded at 2:35 AM, we were out cold. And from that point on, it has been along day of deja vu. Kerri and I had cappucinos at the airport in the same spot that I've spent LOTS of time waiting due to delays. As I boarded the flight to Florence, the misty skyline looked like the morning I left a small town in Wisconsin a few years ago -- the air, the view, the walk to the airplane, it was all eerily the same. When I arrived, I ended up sharing a taxi with another girl from NYU, and it turned out that we'd both spent a good deal of time in Florence in 1999. And then, when I got to the hostel (yes, I'm 26, and I'm staying in a hostel. I'm a student. Blah.) it was the SAME ONE I stayed in when I was 18 and my friend Danny and I did the requisite tour of Europe at warp speed. I had no idea when I booked this place, but it is absolutely the same! Life is funny sometimes.

So once my laundry is dry (oh, how I appreciate clean clothes!!!! Nothing ever stays clean for long during the hot weather in India) I'm am off to enjoy more of this town that I know, love and can actually remember my way around. Ciao, belli!

Bouncing and Shopping

Kerri and I completed 26 hours of travel by Jeep and train this afternoon, and then jumped right into a long shopping spree. We left Darjeeling yesterday morning in a Jeep with 11 adults and two children -- one of them carsick. Kerri felt it was the worst ride of her life, but due to very heavy rains the night before, we could finally see four snow-capped Himalayan peaks -- so I was transfixed. But she's probably right, it wasn't the world's most comfortable ride! We arrived in New Jalpaiguri (sights: none. internet access: broken. inhabitants: all very pushy rickshaw drivers. Apparently.) in time for our 1:15 train. We thought we would arrive in Delhi in a mere 17 hours, at 6 AM -- but the train got in at 11:45!!!!!! This seriously cramped our style.

For the rest of the day today, we ran all over Delhi, buying saris, bangles, sandals, inexpensive jewelry, and bindis. Or at least trying to. Shopping in the developing world takes time, both for bargaining (all the while feeling that, no matter how low the price, you're being had) and for scanning the vast panoply of merchandise secreted away in small bins and attics all over the marketplace. Andy, who is in Bangkok, was kind enough to give us a list of good shopping locations, so we were definitely in the right places. But the sheer size of it! Wow. We could have shopped for a week. (Please don't get excited about souvenirs -- we found remarkably few things that were on our list, and we're having a tad of buyers' remorse over what we DID find. Luckily, I have two more countries to shop through before I see my friends and loved ones! Kerri is not so lucky...)

We had intended to have one last, grand dinner before leaving for the airport, but Kerri somehow hurt her foot in our last two hours of shopping, so she's resting in the hotel. I plan to bring up some delicious street food (mmmm, grilled chicken and chapati) to the room and that will have to do as a final feast. I'll write you from Florence tomorrow!

Weather Woes

We are still in stunning Darjeeling, our last real day in India (tomorrow we will travel all day and night; Thursday we will shop all day; Friday we depart at 2:35 AM). The main draw of a trip to Darjeeling is the tea and the view of the mountains. We are fully immersed in the tea culture now - we had tea at a fancy hotel ( On Kerri's camera, we have photos as Lord and Lady of the Manor. She got the role of Lady. Hmf.), we bought tea for our lucky family members, and I hiked up and down the sides of the mountain to inspect tea leaves (lovely photos of that, here).

However, the mountains are absent. It seems that the monsoon is a full two weeks early this year. The building clouds we witnessed yesterday on the drive in will take up residence here for THREE MONTHS STRAIGHT! So I am 6 miles from Mount Everest (even closer to other Himalayan mountains) and I CAN’T SEE IT!!!!!! This is frustrating in the extreme. If you’ve ever taken off in an airplane and made your ascent through puffy, cumulous clouds, you’ve seen as much of the Himalayas as Kerri and I have. Argh. I can’t BELIEVE this. The entire time I’ve been here, all the Indians who have inquired about our itinerary have tut, tutted their way through the list of destinations in the plains - but when I mention Darjeeling, they suddenly smile and say, "Yes, yes, this is the perfect time to go!" Liars. Not this year!

I am making do with the splendid beauty of the green tea-covered hills whenever the clouds part, and reminding myself that, just yesterday, I thought it was new and exciting to be fully ensconced in clouds. Guess I’ll have to return here sometime!

Walking in Clouds

Today Kerri and I find ourselves in Darjeeling, a ‘hill station’ established by the British in the 1800s as a way to escape the incredible summer heat of the plains. As we rode up the mountain in a small, bouncing Jeep with 8 other people, the stunning views reminded me of Germany, or a drive to Fianarantsoa, a plateau town in Madagascar, or even a trip through the Smoky Mountains. You could see the clouds sifting up through the mountain range from the valleys below, and the sun on the tops of the clouds made it seem like lakes stretched out to the horizon, floating in mid-air. It was beautiful. At first, this trip was accompanied by evocative Indian movie themes (orchestra and all), but then the driver put in a CD of 1994 club hits - oh, well! The ride may have reminded me of many mountainous places, but Darjeeling smacks of Britain. It is cold, clammy and cloudy here, just like London or Edinburgh in mid-summer. I understand why those Raj-era citizens picked this place - it must have reminded them of home! After hot showers, we are off to drink high tea, look at tea plantations, buy tea, and otherwise accomplish tea-related activities. It’s lovely, and we are ever so happy to have a reason to shiver.

The rest of our time in Kolkata was uneventful. We saw the Victoria Monument and other British buildings (now that REALLY reminds you of London) in an area called BBD Bagh. I saw the Indian Museum, the oldest collection in the country, with a phenomenal collection of small bronze work. It really is amazing, the verisimilitude of figures in the 4 - 10th centuries here, when Europeans were busy making stony-faced saints. Thankfully, the bronzes were really worth seeing - it was an ordeal to enter, as they force you to check even your handbag. So I wandered the museum carrying my laptop, passports and a wad of cash. Graceless, perhaps - and I know I offended the head of security - but too bad! I am not about to have my laptop filched or, just as bad, damaged by someone storing a heavy bag on top of it.

On Saturday evening, Kerri didn’t feel so hot, so we stayed in and watched American re-runs of Gray’s Anatomy. (Shout out to Courtney, we missed you!) But not before I had a chance to explore New Market, the busy area around our hotel. It was like an Indian version of Times Square! So busy, so many lights, so many people! I really enjoyed wandering around, checking out a ridiculous variety of merchandise, and sampling tasty food. (Pen light, anyone? Ball bearings? Dance costumes for small children? Clothes, underwear, shoes, lightbulbs? Really, you could probably have bought a car there if you tried.) So, here’s a photo of Victoria Monument, a photo of me in front of our favorite snack place (Hot Kati Rolls! Perfect! And yes, I really do look that bad here!) and I promise beautiful shots of the Himalayas tomorrow.

Mamma Mia!

We arrived in lovely, cool Kolkata (PC-spelling of Calcutta) this morning at 11. The change to 80F heat was so refreshing -- we grinned the whole way to the hotel, relishing the cool breezes. What a change from the blast furnace effect of riding a moto-rickshaw in Delhi! And how nice to be off the train -- we shared a berth with 4 middle-aged men who felt free to change their pants (under a towel -- small help!) and burp freely throughout the 17 hour trip. Ah, what hospitality!

Our main event of the day was a visit to Mother House, the home of the order of nuns founded by Mother Teresa. I was deeply impressed by Mother Teresa's philosophy, something I didn't know very much about before. It seems that she was focused not only on being of service to the poor, but being of the poor -- living as they did, not only in lack of resources and comforts, but also in seeking to be as 'Indian' as possible. The habits of the nuns are adapted from saris, they wear very simple home-made leather sandals, and they seek out the destitute in body and spirit from the worst areas of Kolkata, such as an alley near a major Hindu temple where the destitute sick and dying come hoping for help. As you read this, you must be thinking, yeah, I get it, she helped poor people. I think her philosophy, however, was fundamentally different than that of many missionaries. She wanted to work with other Indian nuns for the Indian people -- other nuns of different nationality could join, but they must submit to the local culture. After the messes we've all seen in the NGO world, this local adaptation must have greatly aided her ability to be effective.

As I stood in the small information area in the room next to her grave, I was at first overwhelmed and ashamed. How could I ever hope to do 1/1000 of the good that Mother Teresa created in the world? She was less educated, with fewer resources, and from a country that continues to suffer poverty itself. If she could do such miraculous good, what on earth am I doing living in and of the material world? Through self-delusion or revaltion, take your pick, I slowly felt inspired instead of daunted -- the resounding theme of her ministry was not only to serve the poor, but to radiate joy in doing so. To be of service to others, and therefore to God, but with joy and gladness. She insisted that the sisters be in and of the material world, and that they should ascribe their light to the Light that inspired them. I may not be able to live a radical life in the slums of Kolkata -- and you, reading, may not believe in any greater Light than the sun -- but I think we can all benefit from a message of cheerfulness in the face of great challenge. let's hope I remember that during the more trying times of our travels!

(I have a picture of Mother Teresa's grave, but not on my flash drive at this email shop -- it touched me to see that someone has spelled out her motto in marigold flowers on the simple marbel slab. They also drew a chalice, with rose petals to signify wine, and the wheat of the Eucharist. What a lovely devotion, mixing the local custom of laying marigolds in temples and mosques with her Christian interrment)

Chillin' in Delhi

Yesterday Kerri and I made the trip back from Agra on a much slower train. We were the hit of the third class -- everyone craned their heads out of their bunks to get a better look at the two American girls playing Crazy Eights. You would think we were Bollywood celebrities. After 20 minutes or so, our mediocre card playing and inept shuffling bored everyone but one man and three little children, so we spent the rest of the ride fairly unobserved. I mention this because it is a consistent theme of my time in India -- everywhere we go, people stare. It was worse when I was alone, because people were incredulous that I would be travelling without my father or at least a group of other young people. But it continues even now. Kerri hates all the staring -- I'm slowly getting used to it and simply pretend that I am a movie star. It's probably the only time in my life that I will ever be such a head-turner!

The brazen stares bothered Kerri yesterday, but the blazing temperatures bothered her more. We spent a rather slow afternoon and then met up with our friend Andy for dinner. Andy is the best restaurant guide anyone could want -- we had dinner at a chic little restaurant with red glass chandeliers and those chunky, austere dark wood tables that are so popular in New York now. The paneer or fresh cheese curry was delicious, and Kerri really enjoyed her chicken biryani, a dish akin to fried rice, Indian style. Andy dared me to eat a chili and I survived -- but barely! Kerri went to bed after dinner and Andy and I continued to doctor our sodas with some gin I keep in a water bottle in my bag (there are many bars, but not every restaurant serves alcohol. You know my motto -- be prepared!). We were talking about India and the developing world in general -- Andy doesn't think he wants to live here, and is looking for an international post after his MBA. I have to say that I wouldn't want to live here either, mainly because I get the sense that I would always be an outsider. As they say of my new hometown, I suppose -- nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there!

Pools and Take-Out Containers

After an incredibly packed and expensive sight-seeing day yesterday, we have fully appreciated all that Agra has to offer. Here is a shot of Kerri at the “Baby Taj,” an early monument to a financial advisor (valued staff even then) that predates the beautiful pietra dura work at the Taj Mahal itself. So today, we did a tiny bit of sight-seeing this morning and spent the rest of the day at a pool. It was “lovely,” as the British women cooed, cooling off after a long day of bus travel. Pool visits may not be exciting to read about, but they are definitely a haven of calm, quiet and anonymity. When I spent a lot of time overseas in Africa on three to six week assignments, I spent every Sunday at the pool for a little mini-trip to America (and a schmooze with our donors).

The one fun thing I have to share today is my amazement at Indian fast-food serving ware. They serve street food in these little bowls made from banana plants. You can see one, with my sweet lentil dessert in it, here. The other serving ware that is very popular are rough cast clay cups. They’re not even as finished as terracotta pots at home, and people drink tea, a yogurt drink called lassi, or a thicker yogurt out of them. These are also single use. Now here is an excellent example of local know-how merging with international concepts – fast food in perfectly biodegradable containers. Amazing.

Drumroll, please...

Today we saw it. The famous, magnificent Taj Mahal. After a brutally early wake-up call, we took the train to Agra this morning (kerri’s first train ride!) past small towns, fields of sugar cane, and small grass-thatch huts. (Kerri adds: and cows. Of course.) As soon as we dropped our bags, we headed out to see it. Built by Shah Jahan in the early 1600s for his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, the Taj is a marvel of tromp l’oiel, in the sense that the architect carefully planned the building sites, angle of the minarets at the corners, and the approach to the Taj to make it seem far larger than it really is. As you enter the walls around the monument, you arrive in a courtyard surrounded by carved red sandstone walls and a red sand-stone gateway with pietra dura motifs at the top. Pietra dura is the inlaid stone technique that decorates the Taj Mahal – precious stones are inlaid into marble to make the floral and calligraphic designs. This technique hails from Florence by way of Iran, but Shah Jahan used it to great effect here. As you climb the steps of the sandstone gateway, the first view of the Taj Mahal is framed by the vaulted arches. It was just stunning. As Kerri pointed out, it was like walking into a postcard or onto the Discovery channel – you’ve seen the image so many times, it is very familiar – and yet, here you are, in the flesh! Okay, the water ways weren’t filled and the river was very low, both due to the heat, but it still looked postcard perfect to us!

The only down side to the Taj is that Kerri and I were a major tourist attraction ourselves. At least 15 families asked to take photos of us, and a few families had their children sneak up to us so that they could quickly grab a picture. This perplexed me , but drove Kerri insane. It is strange – here we are, in front of a stunning monument, and the tourists want to take pictures of two average American girls? Weird.

So here are some lovely photos. We’re off to see the Fort this afternoon and then to dine in view of the Taj – yay! So happy!

Delhi with Friends

Today was great and also successful, in the sense that Kerri didn’t melt in the heat and jetlag (bravo!) and we managed to book our train tickets (no mean feat here). I picked Kerri up last night (only a tiny back-pack and a messenger bag – rock on!) and then spent 1.5 hours trying to get back to the hotel, since the driver would not follow my directions and preferred to ask random groups of strangers – even after talking to our hotel owner. But all is well that ends well. Today, we spent the day touring monuments – an astronomical observatory built in the 1700s to measure the diameter of the sun and the local time, a few tombs, and the Qutb Minar, a very high tower built by a king so that his daughter could pray in view of the holy Yamuna River, located about 20 kilometers away from their palace. We had intended to meet my friend Andy, who I met on the plane from Milan, at the astronomical observatory, but the government closed many roads in Delhi due to the rioting and so it took him an extra 1.5 hours to reach the monument. We thought he went back to bed and left – but luckily, all was well by the afternoon and the three of us visited the Qutb Minar, a delicious restaurant, and the Lodi Gardens. At night, the spotlit ruins of a small tomb glow amid the trees and the air is cool. Too bad there were four very friendly and potentially rabid dogs to consider – Andy and Kerri laughed, but I would rather travel another 8 hours by local bus in the scorching heat than tango with a stray dog in Delhi!

Kerri has added a lot of fun to the trip, being the brilliant funny person that she is, jet-lag or no. Today, she introduced some fine and useful phrases to our trip lexicon:

Delhi Belly – the consequence of indulging in the delicious and not-so-hygienic snacks available in this city
“Without Charmin’, bathroom breaks are less than charming!” as a reminder for me to pack the travel-size toilet paper she brought.
And finally, “ONE LINK ROAD!!!!” – a phrase of warning, encouragement and information to be shouted at taxi drivers when trying to navigate our way to the lovely but quite hidden apartment that serves as our hotel.

Planes, trains and local buses.

It was a long, hot day, and then some. I left Khajuraho yesterday at 3 (really, if you haven’t googled it yet, do – or visit the UNESCO World Heritage website). It took 6 hours to go 165km on the local bus. Two hours of that involved a two-year-old sitting in my lap, because there was nowhere else to sit. 70 people or more crowded onto this bus built for 35! It was wild! You haven’t really lived until you’ve driven down a one-car-width road with 70 people in a bus while facing on-coming traffic and slowing just enough for passengers to jump on, right from the fields. Just amazing. Glad I did it, even if it was a little uncomfortable. They stopped for almost half an hour at the major towns, and if you left your seat, you might not get it back – so we all sat and baked in this little tin oven in the 47C heat, hoping the bus would start soon and a cool breeze would wind its way through the millimeters of space not taken up by passengers. After the bus ride, I put my grimy little self on a train to New Delhi. A sweet woman in the bunk below me managed to procure us clean sheets so that we wouldn’t have to use the ones left by the passengers preceding us (whew! Although, no one on earth was dirtier than me at that moment, so perhaps I shouldn’t have cared.) Once in Delhi, I went on a goose chase to find our hotel, finally arriving after an hour in an autorickshaw, brandishing a not-so-skillfully drawn map. They kindly let me shower, and I headed off to the Red Fort, built by Shah Jahan in the 1600s and home to the Mughal emporers until the British took over in the mid-1800s. It’s really lovely – check out the photos (a view through the arches in the throne court -- they were coated in white and gold for Shah Jahan -- and a second view. There are about 15 buildings though, here's just a sample!) A nice girl named Pooja, who was in Delhi to take her admission exams for the Masters program in Biochemistry, joined me for a tour about the fort while her father watched the bags. We had a nice time, and I was greatly relieved to notice that she also found it unbearably hot to wander in the sun from palace to bath to palace. Two fun facts – one of the small palaces was built for the women, and had a stunning lotus-shaped fountain inside. Waterways run through all the buildings and many of the gardens – this place would be amazing if the government could find a way to turn them on now! Second fun fact – the bath house had hot and cold running water AND a rose-water mist room to perfume the lovely ladies. Nice! Pretty chic for the 1600s, when European courts were still picking lice out of their padded hairstyles.

In the afternoon, I just wandered to a few sites, but most notably, I took the subway. Stunningly clean and air-conditioned, it is truly a marvel of modern Delhi – and a stark contrast with my usual mode of transport, the noisy auto-rickshaw, cramming its way down the streets and dodging horse-drawn carriages, cows and goats, cars, buses, and regular rickshaws. I love the subway! (Many of you may know that, after suffering the NYC subways for a year, I regularly offer to eat off the floor of the DC subway system. This is even cleaner than the DC system – spotless.)

As I write this, I’m off to Church (more great signs, I hope!) and to meet my friend Andy for dinner. Then – Kerri! Yay!

Traveling Alone

Okay, I will admit that in the past I have been a total travel snob, and when people say they do not like to travel alone, I usually sniff, "Oh, I prefer it!" But pride always manages to catch up with you and trip you when you least expect it. I am very happy that Kerri is coming tomorrow. This trip has completely revised my view on independent travel. Now, I still think that travelling alone can be great -- but only when you speak some of the local language, know the culture, and are going to places where it's easy to catch up with other tourists for dinner or a trip. Traveling alone in a developing country in the off season is expensive, confusing and at times lonely. In the past, my solo travels in Africa and Asia were always backed up by a purpose for being there and a network of local and international coworkers to give me advice and laugh with me over my travel foibles. This time, I'm just a young woman adrift on the great and ancient sea of Indian culture. SO! Consider me a changed and more humble traveller. I am very excited that Kerri arrives tomorrow -- not only because it will be fun to have a companion, but because she is my smart, funny, beautiful little sister and we will have quite the adventure together!

Customs

This morning, I saw more of the temples. Lovely! Despite the 43+ heat! (That's more than 110. ouch). But this afternoon, Rakesh was hung over, so he sent his friend Rajesh to take me on a tour to some waterfalls. But I have managed to anger Rajesh at least three times -- for explaining that Americans do not hold hands or let people rest their heads in their laps unless they are a couple; for insisting that we return to town before dark (bad roads + trucks + cows = accidents); and now, for being tired and wanting to go home and not eat at his sister's house. Just call me the ugly American I guess. Sigh. I'm trying to be a good traveler -- but I'm not going to abandon my culture overnight. (And I haven't seen Indian boys and girls holding hands, either.)