Going Home with Poopy Bum.

"Too Legit to Quit"  has been beaming through my head from the moment I got up yesterday.  This has been a spontaneous decision on the part of the weird gray thing in my skull, seemingly uninfluenced by any input. I don't even like this song. Does anybody else hear it, or is MC Hammer my personal prophet?

Perhaps I need medicine for this.
Perhaps I have jungle fever.
Can you get that from a forest?

Oh yes....the forest.
The story about how I find myself miles deep in the lonely sticks of Canada shall be now told:


(Some history: I'm a Canadian whose been living in S.Korea for the last 6 years but traveling home with a few stops---namely Turkey's Istanbul when this story begins).  

To travel is a hardy kind of fun. 
But growing tired of totting around my deflating bank account and constantly vomiting anus, the word "home" began summoning increasingly pleasant emotions. At the same time, my travel buddy, BM, seemed increasingly nostalgic about America. When cheap American-bound flights were advertised in the window of a travel agent's window, the cards appeared to be stacked in favor of return.We'd both been gone so long that the return would be a trip any way.

BM talked me into going to Chicago on my way back.  Deep-dish pizzas, live music, a baseball game, a place to stay, a museum of dinosaur bones, an aquarium with sharks. He made Chicago appeal to the nerd in me.  I was sold. 


The last thing of real beauty I saw in Istanbul was a nurse.  With her killer accent she said, "Please use this to defecate into", handing me a plastic see-through bottle. The doctor would later tell me with a weird robotic enthusiasm that my colon didn't seem to be bleeding. I was glad to leave on such a positive note.

***I've read that a good blog tends to omit bowel problems. If I am offending my readers just know that I'm more delighted to have readers than diligent not to offend them, sort of like a puppy whose excitement to have visitors unduly relaxes his bladder. Strange are the ways we express fondness for one another.***

On the plane to Chicago the next day, I had one of those rare moments with a perfect stranger. It went sort of like this:

Bump bump bump and also, rattle rattle. Turbulence frightens me and there was enough of it that I was actually getting weary (bored, even) of being afraid for my life. 'Oh, *yawn* I'm having those damned heart palpitations again because the plane is rattling its tail off *yawn*'. During one bout, a young woman simply said, "I am SO AFRAID". And my first thought was, "God, repress that crap".  But then my perception abruptly changed (because brains are weird things).  Suddenly, we were some kind of talking monkey (biological truth) sitting in chairs above the clouds (physical truth) fearing our own mortality in a reality we were born into without choice (existential truth). And I admired her simple, honest statement in the face of such complexity. 

We landed safely at Chicago's horrible airport. This is where BM and I parted ways. I decided to forgo fun in Chicago to simply go home and allow my body and rectum some recovery.  After a hand shake and well-wishes with him I bordered a train to Cleveland where my sister lives.


The train represented yet another night spent in transit. 
The circumstances of last week's sleep were like this: 2 nights on a floor, 1 in a bed, 2 in a bus, 1 in a plane, 1 in a train.

Next day: Mike & Ike's (chewable, fruit-flavored candies) isn't a totally unsatisfying breakfast, if you have enough quarters for the dispenser. They also coat your teeth and hence, are a passable substitute for brushing.

Bug-eyed, sleep-deprived, foul-boweled, and ungroomed, I chewed (and chewed) and tried to come to grips with the reverse culture-shock I was being slammed with.  All the open space, high prices, English and cellulite was blowing my mind.

Later, my sister picked me up and took me to her house. There,  my parent's, her, and my brother-in-law and I tried to have a pleasant reunion but their dogs licked me into hives and scratching. Plus I had a "distinct odor". Shower gels and detergent "fixed" it.

Despite being a vegan, she cooked me one of the best meat lasagnas I've ever had. I'd forgotten how much my family rocks.

Cleveland's clouds were pleasantly strange during my stay there

as well as on my way back home, to Bancroft (actually Paudash lake), Canada

and then I arrived...to a bed in a house situated on a quiet lake, with 2 loving parents, out in the sticks of Canada.

I have to figure out my next move. And it's scary. I'm 33 and my skill set seems most marketable in Korea, followed by just about anywhere else but here. But here is where I want to stay. 

Can a year or two of schooling fix this problem? 
It probably can...If I'm too legit to quit. 

Istanbul, Turkey

Blue Mosque, Istanbul

A list of Turkey’s many incredible and breath-taking structures would not include its airport.  Boxy and moderately functional, one of the first problems you’re likely to run into is getting a visa (or more accurately, the $60 stamp these people force you to buy when you arrive). You must buy it before passing customs, and the only ATM on this side of customs is permanently broken. Arriving without the proper money in hand, you’re in for an irritating welcome. One of the staff laughed, calling this ‘one of the many adventures I’ll have in Turkey’.  I didn’t laugh, and didn’t express my thought that his idea of adventure made me feel very sad. To get around this problem, you’ll have to find somebody with a decent command of English and have this person find somebody else to escort you upstairs to the “arrivals” section, where there are ATMs that actually work.

My friend had booked a hotel in an excellent place in the city; we stayed in the district of Fatih of Istanbul, south of the ‘Golden Horn’, a short walk from the Blue Mosque, the Basilica Cistern, the Bosporus, and Hagia Sophia. This is where you want to stay.

Driving in from the airport, a sense of the city’s historical presence is unmistakable despite Istanbul being a modern city. Along the shores of the Bosporus, sections of the Wall of Constantinople still stand after roughly 2000 years. Pieces of castle and other tattered remnants, time-beaten and ancient, are embedded into the city here and there beside cafés situated along cobble-stone streets.  

The Turks are, compared to other countries I’ve been to, better at selling. They stand outside their cafes and offer small talk and their menus. They're a touch imposing by Western standards, but they do it in such a way that declining their invites feels rude. Once they've engaged you in conversation, they’ll tell you just about anything you want to hear. But what they lack in sincerity is made for, generally, in charisma and energy.

On our first night, a fast talking ego-maniac sold us tickets to a whirling dervish show.

As a promoted show with fairly expensive tickets, I have doubts regarding how authentic the dance was. Nevertheless, it was interesting to watch.

Afterward, the maniac who sold us the tickets put on his own show, showcasing unusual parlor tricks such as standing on wine glasses. 

How the wine glasses didn't break, I don't know. I suspect they were reinforced by the strength of the man's self-regard.

Next, the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, the Basilica Cistern, Galata Tower, and the Bosporus. . . 

How to do Delhi:

Before you go:

Visa:

To obtain a 3 month tourist visa is done easily from the Indian embassy in whichever country you live in, or more commonly, via the web. When I got my own, I happened to live in Korea though I was not a resident, and I dealt with the Indian Embassy in Korea. Google whichever Indian Embassy is closest.

As the visa is attached to your passport, part of the procedure involves either couriering your passport to their office or showing up in person. They will send it back within a week or so.

Downloading the application form can be done from their website.

The procedure requires is a fee, which, in my case (a Canadian), was about 60 dollars Cdn. 

Bring:

Pack as light as humanly possible.  The following items are what I consider essentials.

-         A discrete money belt to fasten around your torso will be wanted for holding your passport, emergency money, credit cards, and anything small but hugely valuable. Uncomfortable as this might be, it reduces the likelihood of being pick-pocketed out of something truly valuable.

-         Your back-pack is going to be your house while you’re traveling. Get a decent one.

-         Money. Obvious. Before going, it will be wise to do two things. First, bring with you about 10,000 rupees at least. Also, open a Citibank account and put your vacation funds in there. Most bank machines in Delhi (in India) will be able to draw from there.  I live off of about 500-700 rupees a day and though I’m not splurging, I’m not suffering, either. Nor am I particularly shrewd, nor a well-seasoned traveler. However, I do try to avoid being fleeced, which is where the next item can be important…

-         Lonely Planet or some equally informative travel guide will be your bible. Buy an up-to-date version and keep it with you. Read it often.  On the toilet, waiting for a meal, as night time reading—read it.  When you arriving anywhere, get a local to point out where you are on the corresponding map inside. Navigating the city and negotiating taxi or auto-rickshaw prices will be much, much easier with this. Also, it is invaluable when you start buying bus or train tickets.  

-         Clothes you’ll need, but heaps of them. One rule of thumb is two of everything. One you wash and hang to dry in your hotel, the other you wear. Switch and repeat. I’ve found this to be a good way to do business. However, if you’re leaving Delhi to go to the mountains, you’ll need more clothes as it gets cold and rainy.

-         A handful of other small things I highly recommend: Anti-bacterial gel for waterless hand-washing, a flashlight with extra batteries for Delhi’s frequent power outages, multi-vitamins to maintain a healthy immune system and ear-plugs so that sleeping is actually a possibility.

-         Everything else is optional. The question of a laptop and/or a nice camera is one you’ll have to decide for yourself. The negatives are that they’re heavy, bulky, and something to worry about.

Nearly everything else can be easily obtained in Delhi, probably cheaper than what you’re going to pay where you live. If you’ve packed and still have plenty of room in your bag, then you’re on the right track. You have some room for the beautiful and cheap things Delhi offers on the streets.

Arrival:

I’m assuming that you don’t have somebody waiting for you at the airport. If you do, then you're lucky. Also, you don't need to read this.

So, you arrive and the acrid air, countless people in striking attire and appearance, slew of unfamiliar languages as well as the colossal size of the both the airport and the city beyond is intimidating you. Don’t panic.  Get your luggage go find somewhere to sit down to find a little calm. Good. Now, on the far left and right of the airport passenger exit are little booths. First, go to the one for hotels and get a room that’s within your budget (since you’re dealing with the airport, a ‘budget’ hotel will still be relatively costly—around 1600 for the cheapest). Now you have a place to sleep. Next, go to the next booth and get a pre-paid taxi. DO NOT GET JUST SOME TAXI OUTSIDE. YOU'LL BE SCAMMED. Show the pre-paid taxi clerk where you’re staying (on the ticket you just received from the hotel booth), and s/he'll sell you another ticket which you’re going to give to the pre-paid taxi—a car which is yellow and black—and the driver will then take you to your hotel. 

Now, keep both sets of tickets in a safe place. 

There are bank machines in the airport. If you need to use a bank machine, now is the time.

You may now leave the airport.

And enter a world of scam.  In the crowds of people there is the sad but inevitable fact: countless charlatans are attracted to the new arrivals, their money, and their being overwhelmed.  Anybody who approaches you should be automatically and categorically suspected. This is not pathological paranoia; it is accurate assessment. Note also that it is not your life that is in danger (in 99.99% of cases); they’re just after your money.  Now, what you’re looking for is the lane for pre-paid taxis, and there are people who are going to claim that they drive a pre-paid taxi (or a million other things) to try to get your ticket, which is worth money. They even buy black cars and paint yellow on them to match the descriptions you hear from pre-paid booths. Do not be led anywhere. To get to the pre-paid taxis, walk across the first asphalt lane of traffic and parked vehicles, and along the second lane you’ll see the black and yellow taxis. There are signs with numbers where each of these beaten up cars are parked, and there should be a number on your ticket. Find the sign that matches your ticket, and this driver will take you to where you’re going. If you cannot find the pre-paid taxis or yours in particular, go to a police officer or a pre-paid ticket booth outside, and ask. Follow the directions and not those of anybody who happened to be eavesdropping and wants to show you the way.  

Once you’ve got your taxi, avoid giving the driver your ticket until you get to your destination. And make sure that you’re at the right hotel before you get out. This sounds like a hassle and it can be, and it can also be intimidating. 

[Note that if you’re a female lone traveler, extra caution would be prudent. Bring a cellular phone, and give the license plate number to the nearby tourist police--and do it when the taxi driver is looking. One lone traveler was killed by a taxi-driver leaving the Delhi airport in 2004. Although the traveler was described as 'clueless', India travelers will tell you differently--she used pre-paid taxis, which are government sponsored and should presumably be safe.  Take extra precautions.]
 

Upon arrival to your hotel, present the front desk clerk with your hotel ticket and you’ll be given a room.  Now, chill out. Maybe spend some time with your lonely planet going over the details of your next move. . . 

A helpful forum for anything India-related is India Mike.