More Memories that Make us Cry

Asia


*Star hotel boys* I had made a reservation for us before arriving in India at a budget hotel in one of the most crowded, ancient (cheap) neighborhoods, called Pahar Ganj, in Delhi. I wanted there to be a cab driver from the hotel at the airport to pick us up. I knew that India was going to be overwhelming and I wanted this small comfort upon arrival. Pahar Ganj was certainly overwhelming. And very exciting, too. We stayed there again, when we returned to Delhi before flying out to Nepal. Our second time there, we "upgraded" our hotel (maybe $12 rather than $10). The best thing about the Star Hotel was their young employees. Two 18-year old boys who offered us food and drink ("room service, it is available; very good food it is available; king fisher beer it is available") 5 times a day. They knocked on our door to ask us if we wanted beer. Strange room service. Finally, Joe asked for a kingfisher beer. The boy was elated. He went out into the neighborhood (maybe his dad or uncle owned the beer stall?) and brought us back not very cold beer and marked up the price, of course. It was still very cheap and Joe gave him a tip. Another time, we told the boys that our air conditioner was not working. They came in with a knife, severed a wire, fused it back together with their fingers and told us not to touch the wire or we would make fire. We loved their ingenuity! How many hotel workers in the US would be able to fix an air conditioner like that? My favorite memory of these boys (there were two and they were sort of interchangeable, both cute, usually together, etc), was when we were walking in the dark, down one of the crowded, bazaar, festival like alley-streets of Pahar Ganj and we ran into one of them. He was listening to his headphones, but he quickly ripped them out of his ears, grabbed Joe's hand (a bit of a schock since we knew exactly 2 people in all of Pahar Ganj's 1000s of residents) and with a beaming smile, shook his hand for a prolonged moment. Joe was his friend.


*Queue system* With one exception, we only traveled in first class train cars in India. In first class, they give you beds if it is a night train or comfy reclining seats if it is a day train. They also give you surprisingly good food and cups of tea every time you turn around, on some first class services. The one time we took a 2nd class train (where there are no assigned seats and you have to push and shove to get one or stand up the whole time) was when we went to a non-touristy city called Ajmer. There wasn't a first class service to Ajmer from Jaipur, so we went to the 2nd-class ticket counter! Yikes! We didn't know how it worked, people were cutting us in line and we thought we were never going to be able to buy our tickets. Just as a very, very old (as old as India said Joe), very short and fat grandma-type viciously cut in front of Joe with elbows flying, a helpful Indian man tapped Joe on the shoulder and advised him, "Sir, there is no queue system here." So, we started to push our way to the front, just like proper Indians.

*The Royal Guest House* Aaah, Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia. Not that we saw much of it. But we did get to see Barack Obama win the presidential election with a group of American and other ex-pats. One of the highlights of our lives. Even on election day, we were coming down with a miserable stomach sickness that was going to knock us out for days. High fevers, chills, stomach cramps, nausea and other ill symptoms I won't talk about. Luckily for us, we were staying at the super comfortable Royal Guest House, run by 4 generations of a Chinese origin family - all women. During our illness, when we were feeling brave and hungry enough to eat, we went downstairs and ordered something from their restaurant (family kitchen). We filled up our water bottle and ordered sodas to bring upstairs with us 5 times a day. They knew we were sick and they kept an eye on us. One night, we woke up to the horrible screaming of a tourist on the floor below us. Such a strange scene: she was convulsing and crying and screaming. It seemed that she had maybe ingested too much marijuana food (there was a restaurant in phnom penh that was infamous for it's pot food, but tourists regularly freaked out from it) and she was losing it. In our feverish state, we were very concerned and bothered by what was happening. But the mama bear proprietress of the hotel was holding her and massaging her feet while an American nurse who was staying at the hotel was checking her out. As long as mama was in charge and taking care of her, we felt comfortable - and went back to bed.


*Nicest people on earth* Thai (and Lao, who are ethnically and linguistically similar) people are the nicest people on earth. How can I generalize about a country of 60 million people? Because it's true! Every single interaction with a Thai person is a pleasure. It must have something to do with their religion, Buddhism, which they practice in such a serene and beautiful way, by offering fruit and tea and incense each day at the gorgeously colored small spirit houses outside of most homes. Or it could be because of their food which is so fresh and healthy and interesting and delicious that it would make any people kind. They are also so polite! They bow often and never in an obsequious way- they are just too respectful and kind. The pinnacle of Thai kindness for us was the beach resort in Ko Phi Phi where we spent Christmas with Joe's mom, Janie. Every staff member there went out of their way to remember us, take care of us and spread loving kindness with every interaction. On Christmas night, there was a banquet for the hotel's 60 or so guests. While we were eating, the staff, all wearing Santa hats, visited each table as a group, bowed together and wished us a Merry Christmas. Later that night, Joe bonded with the male staff at the bar, drinking beer and playing cards til early in the morning. We loved them!

*Mekong River pub crawl* Vientiane, the capital city of Laos, and the smallest, most relaxed capital we have ever visited. It has a great Mekong River location and there are at least 40 spots along the river to have a beer or eat some food. These places range from fancy establishments to wooden shacks on stilts. We decided to try a few of them one night. Almost as interesting as walking into the different places and interacting with the families who ran them was visiting the bathrooms. Some of these restaurants just didn't have them. At one place, where we ordered a papaya salad which was one of the spiciest things we've ever eaten (but served with such a big smile, we felt we had to eat it all), the waitress brought me across the street to the local police station to use the bathroom there (basically just a hole in the ground). On my way out, the policemen practiced their English on me. They said "I love you" and all giggled loudly. When Joe tried to use the bathroom at the police station, they practiced some more English on him; they said "No."


*Kachenchunga* We arrived in Darjeeling, India after dark, so it wasn't until the next morning that we got a look at the jaw-dropping view of the 3rd largest mountain in the world, Kachenchunga. You can see the Himalayas from anywhere in town, but a wonderful pedestrian promenade on a hillside in town has the best views. We walked along it in the early morning, when the old men were out congregating and exercising. At one point, after we had taken a hundred pictures of the mountains, one old man asked us if we wanted him to take a picture of us. We did! He took a break from his exercise and stretching routine, took our picture a few times and chatted. He welcomed us to his country and asked us about the United States. He had a daughter who lived in California. We loved India; even better than the mountains were the Indians.

*Medan shopping mall* We had a tough time in Medan, Indonesia. I got deathly sick, we got into a fight with a hotel owner and we saw a kid passed out on the pavement with his eyes rolled back in his head (he might not have been passed out). But before those miserable adventures, we visited the mall where there was a McDonald's and an internet cafe. I walked behind Joe in the mall and observed how people stared at him. There are not a lot of white people in Medan. Nor tall people. Nor people with blue eyes and light hair. People stopped walking, lifted their short little heads up and just stared at him. Kids tried to touch him as he walked by. One woman whose whole family had stopped to stare, saw me, someone their height and closer to their color, walking behind him and reached out to shake my hand. I was as close as they were going to get to the white,blonde giant.