Distant But Not Different

One of the primary reasons for my year long wander is to gain an understanding of cultural diversity that two university degrees in Anthropology and Intercultural Youth Development were incapable of conferring. I have studied cultural variability from nearly every academic viewpoint imaginable, but growing up in a rural Midwestern town and attending university in two very homogeneous locations denied me an experiential understanding of cultural diversity.

When I began my trip it was easy and amusing to spot aspects of the local culture that differed from my own. As I moved East these differences became more pronounced and numerous, which made focusing on the differences nearly effortless. It is only now, after more than a month in India, that I am finally beginning to focus on the similarities between the local culture and my own.

Jess and I are spending a few days in Puri, a little beach town that is an overnight train ride away from Kolkata. Since it is so easily accessible to Kolkatans, it is a popular destination for middle-class Indians who want to get out of the city for a few days. As I strolled down the main drag on our first evening in town, I had an almost palpable sense of deja vu; it was as if I had walked down the streets at some point in the past. Of course I had not, but the string of hotels, restaurants, snack vendors and advertisements are strikingly similar to any family vacation destination in America's Midwest. I could have easily been at the Lake of the Ozarks or Branson in Missouri. Casually dressed families leisurely strolling down the road with ice cream, restaurants advertising food to suit every palate, souvenir shops selling knick-knacks - familiar scenes in every US vacation town during the summer. Walking around in Puri is like exploring an altered version of Midwest in which the food is spicier, the people dress brighter and cows roam the street freely.

These superficial similarities did not become totally clear until Jess and I met some of the incredibly friendly and welcoming locals. As foreign (and very pasty) tourists, we have to be cautious and aware of our vulnerability at all times, but we managed to let our guard down enough to get to know some local guys who struck up a conversation on the beach. After a very friendly conversation and promises to meet later and have a bonfire on the beach, I was very suspicious. What is their intention? What do they really want from us? What was the scam that we were walking into? Although these questions simmered in the back of my mind, we went to the beach on our way home from dinner to see if there was actually a fire as promised. Sure enough, our friends were waiting for us and we soon had a warm fire near the ocean on a beautiful night. As we sat under the stars discussing world politics and our life plans, I realized how many opportunities like this I miss every day because I am so guarded and uptight when interacting with local people. The guys around the fire were no different than my friends at home; they simply wanted to get together to enjoy good conversation and music, but I assumed they wanted nothing but my money. Jess and I were able to get to know some of them over the three days we stayed in Puri, all incredible young men and women who are interested in the world and are excited to meet others who are like-minded. In fact, the entire situation was very safe for one simple reason - no one was drinking alcohol. This is one difference between India and the US which I am begging to appreciate. No one was drunk or belligerent and there was no danger of making a foolish decision against one's better judgment. Alcohol just wasn't necessary as a social lubricant because everyone was relaxed and enjoying themselves. The sober (dare I say "wholesome") evening allowed us to get to know each other on a less superficial level.

I hope that focusing on the similarities between Indian culture and my own culture will help me to see individual human beings among the billion bodies who inhabit India. The families on holiday in Puri have the same goals as American families who head to the lake on three day weekends; relax away from domestic and career responsibilities, spend time with family, enjoy a beautiful natural place, and eat good food. The responsibilities may be different, the families bigger, the natural place a bit more crowded, and the food spicier, but the motivation is exactly the same - to live the good life. Thanks to the wonderful people, who are much more welcoming and open than myself, in Puri who were able to teach me this lesson that I could not have absorbed from any Anthropology textbook.

City of Shiva

Varanasi is India in concentrate. More cows, worshipers, historical places, tourists, temples, street vendors, and ceremonies per square inch than I ever imagined possible. Since the city has been a point of pilgrimage for over 4000 years, there is no reason to be surprised. Varanasi is India with impactitude -my new favorite word which I picked up from an Indian newspaper. Luckily I was fully recovered and well rested from my stay in Delhi, so I was prepared for some impactitude.

Varanasi is a city of contrasts. The city clings to the banks of the Ganges River, a wide and tranquil river which is very sacred to Hindus everywhere. The streets leading to the river could not be more different - narrow, crowded and chaotic. The city is a magnet for life of all types from around the world, but it also draws death. Many Hindus believe that dying and being cremated in Varanasi brings instant liberation of the soul, therefore over 300 bodies are burned on the bank of the river everyday. 24/7/365. The only limiting factor in the burning is the cost to import wood and the space necessary to build the pyre. The most intriguing aspect of this tradition is that it takes place in public. Anyone passing by walks within a few feet of burning bodies, bodies waiting to be burned, and the family who have congregated to watch. To my American mind, this seems like the sort of event that begs to be a private family affair, but not in India. My hotel is located only about 50 yards from where the bodies are burned, so when I inevitably get lost in the backstreets I just follow one of the frequent funeral processions and I eventually end up at home. It seems macabre, but life and death are just more visible and harder to ignore here than in America.

The Ganges River is the heart and soul of Varanasi. The river is holy, but it is used in every way possible, both sacred and profane. At any given point on the shore there are people doing abolutions, (like ritual cleansing), offering gifts to the gods, praying, and meditating. At that same point there are also people washing clothes, fishing, swimming, bathing, and gathering water. Of course a large amount of human waste, both in the form of litter and excrement, end up in the river. This does not deter the pious from entering the river and worshiping its power.

The Ganges River flows from the god Shiva's hair according to tradition; this is his favorite city and he is definitely the favored god within the city. Of Hinduism's pantheon of a thousand plus gods, Shiva is one of the most commonly and fervently worshiped. This is why the city is such a popular place for pilgrims from all over India. The worshipers and the city are intense, and this intensity is magnified by bhang, which is sold in restaurants, on the street, and even by government shops in the form of drinks and baked goods. Watching funeral pyres and ancient rituals with a bhang lassi is a quintessential Varanasi experience. While there are quite a few foriegn tourists here, there are not enough to substantially change the character of the city. Most of the people here are tourists of some sort, but most of them are from within India.

In retrospect, I should have spent more time in Varanasi rather than Delhi, but hindsight is 20/20. I am leaving the city this evening on an overnight train to Kolkata where I will meet Jess! We'll spend about 4-5 days in Kolkata before heading to Jaipur to work at Saharia over Christmas and New Year.

Motions and Meditation Don't Mix

I had the unfortunate experience of being forced to leave the meditation course after only four days of sitting cross-legged on the floor so that I could sit upright on a porcelain seat in a hotel; I got a bad case of what Indian's euphemistically refer to as "loose motions". It was inevitable - almost all tourists get some sort of intestinal bacteria during their stay - but I wish it could have come at a better time. Actually, there really is no "better time" to spend two and a half days walking from the bed to the toilet and back. Since I have arrived in India I have not eaten any meat, avoided uncooked fruits and vegetables, and only drank bottled water. At the Vipassana center I became comfortable and I relaxed my rules; on the third morning I ate a plateful of fresh bean sprouts that were undoubtedly washed in regular tap water. Lesson learned.

The meditation course was very intensive and intense. The schedule is EXACTLY as follows:

04:00 - Wake Up
04:30 - 06:30 Meditation
06:30 - 07:00 Breakfast
07:00 - 08:00 Rest
08:00 - 11:00 Meditation
11:00 - 11:30 Lunch
11:30 - 13:00 Rest
13:00 - 17:00 Meditation
17:00 - 17:30 Tea
17:30 - 18:00 Walking
18:00 - 21:00 Meditation
21:00 - 21:30 Questions to the Teacher (optional)
21:30 Lights Out

In case your doing the math, that is 12 hours of meditation per day. The rules, as well as the schedule, are very restrictive; no outside food, no reading or writing materials of any kind, no phones or music devices, and no medicine unless absolutely necessary. Perhaps the most noticeable rule of all is that of "Noble Silence". For the ten day of the meditation retreat you are not to speak to anyone at anytime, with the exception of simple questions to the teacher pertaining to the meditation technique. This rule was actually not difficult to follow or enforce. Since everyone at the center was there for the same purpose, there was little temptation to speak to anyone. It was difficult to follow the meal schedule because the afternoon "tea" was just that, tea with a light snack. You can imagine the growling stomachs in the meditation hall at six in the morning when the last meal was nineteen hours ago.

Meditation is extremely simple - focus your mind to the present moment. Meditation is also the most difficult thing I have ever attempted. In an environment with no distractions or worries, all I had to do was calm my mind, empty it of all thoughts, and focus all mental energy on my natural breath. Those who have tried know that the mind is a wild animal that is not easily tamed. I would relax and use all of my mind to feel the cool air brush against my nostrils and rush into my nasal cavities before pouring out my nostrils again. Vipassana teaches to focus on the breath, because it is natural, sensory, and everyone breathes. The technique makes a great deal of sense, and I love its simplicity and rationality, but that doesn't mean it is easy. Here is a typical excerpt from my mind's inner workings during the course.

One breath in, one breath out . . . two breaths in, two breaths out . . . I wonder how much a visa to Nepal costs . . . it should be warm enough to visit there by May . . . should I work on a farm there or just travel . . . SHIT! I did it again! . . . one breath in, one breath out . . . two breaths in, two breaths out . . . my back is getting sore . . . not as sore as after sorting olives for four hours . . . I wonder if Edouardo is still at the olive farm . . . SHIT! WHY WON'T MY BRAIN SHUT UP?!?!? . . . one breath in, one breath out . . . two breaths in, two breaths out . . .

According to the teacher, this is how all people begin meditation; frustration, failure, and (at least initially) persistence. It is amazing how little control we have over our own minds. We are really good at thinking, but all of our thinking concerns the future and the past, we rarely stop and thinking about what is going on at the present moment. A good example is driving. I remember drives back and forth between Missouri and Montana in which I covered 30 or 40 miles without any awareness. The sensory and motor movement parts of my brain were functioning on autopilot, completely out of my conscious awareness, perfectly able to drive the vehicle on the long straight highway, while all of my consciousness was consumed with memories, analyses, and emotions. We are all on some level of autopilot all the time. There are constantly sensations, sounds, and sights that our senses perceive, but do not enter our awareness. My very nature as a human makes meditation difficult, but my many years of formal education makes it almost impossible. I have spent my entire life being trained to do three things; think analytically, plan strategically, and communicate effectively. In order to meditate, I must stop my mind from engaging in all three.

Emptying the mind of its clutter and being acutely aware of the results in clarity and control. At least that is what I have been told by the teacher, who at least appears to be very calm and very controlled. I don't have to take his word for it, there are numerous scientific studies on the effect of meditation on the mind. Meditation's ability to alter brain activity and chemistry have been empirically verified and neuroscientists often incorporate the phenomenon of meditation in their theories of the mind.

Vipassana is not a religion, it is a technique. Although its roots are obviously Buddhist, Vipassana claims to be universal and compatible with many of the world's religions. There are no pictures of the Buddha, no mantras, rites, or rituals. There is also no hierarchy except that of teacher and student. I felt very comfortable at the center. It is located on a forested hill far away from the noise and pollution of Jaipur -monkeys and wild peacocks provided the only distractions. It is a peaceful and welcoming place, but my bowels did not feel as comfortable as my mind.

I am now fully recovered. I travelled from Jaipur to Delhi and I'm not sure how to spend the next five days before I travel to Varanasi and Kolkata to meet Jessica. I will probably spend a few days in Delhi's parks and museums, of which I have been to none. Although I am fortified by antibiotics, I will pass on any offers of tasty sprouts for the next five months.

Nationalism Gone Wild

My North Indian tour has brought me from the home of the Sikhs to the land of the Hindus and I was able to catch a glimpse of Pakistan along the way. I was reluctant to leave the Golden Temple, with its friendly people and free food, but the road (or railway) beckons.

I was able to meet and get to know many Indians during my time in Amritsar thanks to the Golden Temple being a hassle-free zone, and one man, Paran, made a particular impression on me. After he finished with the usual round of "questioning the foreigner", I turned the table and interrogated him. After a little prying I learned that he was unemployed, has lived in Amritsar his entire life, and eats at the Temple every day because he has no money for food. I asked him where he learned to speak English, since it is usually a sign of high caste or education, and he told me that he graduated from a university with a computing degree, but it is very difficult to find work right now. He was obviously embarrassed by his financial position, but he brightened up when he said that he was planning to become a tour guide, using his English to show foreigners around the city. As he stood up to leave, I realized that 1) he was not a scam artist 2) he needed help and money 3) I needed a guide to get to the Pakistani border. So I made a proposition; I would pay him 150 Rupees ($3) to accompany me to the border with Pakistan as my guide. Most tourists hire a taxi to take them to the border and then back to Amritsar, which costs 600 Rupees. The public bus system in rural India is very cheap, only 50 Rupees to the border and back, but it is not easy for a foreigner to navigate because the signs are in Punjabi and Hindi and the drivers don't speak English. So my guide would be make more than the average day's wage in one afternoon and I would save some cash and get to see more of the Indian country-side.

This raises a legitimate and pertinent question; why was I so intent on getting to the Pakistani border? I have no interest in visiting Pakistan at this time, and I can't since I don't have a visa. So why go to the border only to turn around and go back? To join the border closing ceremony/party/nationalistic pep-rally, of course. The border crossing near Amritsar is the only open point between the two giant nations of India and Pakistan, who have perennially bad relations and a disputed border in Kashmir. Each evening both nations put on a big nationalistic show to crowds of people on each side as they ceremonially close the border. There are bleachers, food vendors, speakers blaring Hindi pop music, and even a charismatic MC to rally the crowd. All in all it is one of the most bizarre gatherings I have ever seen. Luckily I had my guide, Paran, to translate and explain some of the happenings, but such things defy a rational explanation. Maybe my photos will illustrate the scene better, but they are distant and vague. I have some videos that I will try to post, if I can figure out how.

It was fascinating to see the crowds of cheering spectators shouting "Long Live India!" while another large crowd on the other side of the fence yelled "Long Live Pakistan!". The border guards had an elaborate succession of marches, which amounted to a hyper-masculine display of nationalism and power. Finally, the flags were lowered, the gate was closed, and the crowd dispersed. Weird, but an interesting insight into how these two countries, which were originally one under the British, now deal with each other. I also was able to help out Paran, who was more enthusiastic than ever about become a tour guide, but I know he helped me out more because I would have probably ended up stranded in some remote village had he not been there to lead the way.

Now I am in Rishikesh; a Hindu holy city on the Ganges river in the foothills of the Himalayas where cows, white hippies with dreadlocks, wild monkeys, and Hindu swamis roam the streets. This is the place where the Beatles came to study meditation and yoga with the Maharishi in the '60s and now it is the "yoga capital of the world".

The setting is beautiful; the Ganges is clear and fast flowing between the lush green mountains. Also the air is relatively free of India's ubiquitous pollution and the streets are more pedestrian friendly. I can't say I'm smitten with the place, it wreaks too much of "spiritual commercialism". By this I mean a lot of rich kids and retirees come here to pay people to "enlighten" them, or they at least buy enough cool Indian clothes and trinkets to convince their friends back home that they have become enlightened. Regardless, it is a nice place to hang out and relax for a few days. Today I had a nice hike to a waterfall with many encounters with curious monkeys. I'm sure I would enjoy this place much more if I were staying in one of the many ashrams or taking a yoga course, but I must keep moving.

I am leaving tomorrow for Haridware and then Jaipur where I will join a ten day meditation retreat. Afterwards I will visit Varanasi, which is one of Hinduisms holiest cities. But in the meantime, I will try to avoid terrorists and their deadly antics.

All's Well in Rishikesh!

Just a really quick post to relieve those who are worried by the terrorist attacks in Mumbai - I'm fine! It is true that terrorists attacked a number of luxury hotels and restaurants in Mumbai reportedly were looking for Brits and Americans. Fortunately, I am not in Mumbai and definetly not in any luxury hotels or restaurants! Unfortunately, many innocent people, mostly Indian citizens lost their lives, and India's reputation as a safe tourist destination has been tarnished.

That is all, just a note to let everyone know that I'm OK.

Seeking the Sikhs

I made it out of the madness that is Delhi in one piece without getting ripped off - in fact I feel guilty after every transaction because things are so incredibly cheap. An all-you-can-eat traditional Thali (dal, curried veggies, flatbread, and rice) costs 25 rupees -- that is exactly 50 cents! Add a steaming cup of chai and your looking at a bill that could top 60 cents, which means it is nearly impossible to go broke here, even if you are overcharged, it amounts to a few nickels. I was obviously thrilled by how affordable everything was in Delhi, but that hardly compares with the deal I am enjoying in Amritsar.

I took an overnight bus (bad idea, cold, cramped and dirty) from Delhi to Amritsar two nights ago in order to escape the congested city. I couldn't have chosen a better antidote to Delhi's crowds and aggressive salesmen; Amritsar's Golden Temple is a haven of calm. The temple, which is the center of the Sikh religion, could not be more welcoming. Peace and serenity radiate from the temple, despite the fact that thousands visit this holy place each day. Not only is it a beacon of calm, it is also stunningly beautiful. The "Golden" Temple gets its name from a small building in the center of the complex which is plated in 1500 pounds of gold. Usually this kind of ostentatious display of wealth by organized religion repels me, but the Sikhs balance this with incredible generosity. I will stay at the Golden Temple for three nights with absolutely no expectation of payment of any sort. Not only do they provide free lodging, but they have a 24 hour community kitchen that serves delicious all-you-can-eat Indian meals to over 20,000 people each day! It sounds too good to be true, but trust me, it is both very good and true.

After a few days of Delhi, I became very nervous when approached by Indians because I assumed they were out to get money somehow, which is usually the case in Delhi. The first person who approached me in the Golden Temple startled me and I began to politely walk away, until I realized that he wasn't selling anything and he didn't want anything from me except some friendly conversation. He was genuinely interested in why an American was in Amritsar and he was happy to tell me about his religion and its history. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was desperately in need of a guide because I know very little about the Sikh religion and even less about the rituals that take place in the Golden Temple. He walked me through the central ritual in the temple, which involves entering the Golden building in the center and offering food to the men who are reading from the holy book. Not only did he make sure I didn't make any offensive mistakes, but he explained the significance of it all. It was so refreshing to finally meet an Indian who I could talk to as a friend out of the context of a business transaction!

After just a few hours in Amritsar my curiosity about Sikhism bloomed. It is a fascinating religion which is relatively new by Indian standards (about 400 years old). The founder of the religion, Guru Sahib, sought combine elements of the two dominant religions of India; Hinduism and Islam. He also wanted to end the injustice of the caste system in India, which has traditionally labeled millions of Indians as "untouchable". The community kitchen is a fixture of every Sikh temple because it demonstrates two cardinal precepts of the faith; generosity and equality. Men, women, rich, poor, Hindu, Muslim, Christian - all are welcome to join in the communal meals and everyone sits side by side on the floor. This may not seem like a dramatic concept, but traditionally people belonging to the upper caste (Brahmans) do not even touch, much less eat in the company of those of lower castes. Sikhs also do away with the gender segregation that is so common in Islam. In this way it is a very egalitarian and progressive religion. I feel very welcome and at home in the temple, so I'm thankful my Thanksgiving dinner will be a plate of simple Indian food enjoyed on the floor with thousands of Indians of every creed and caste.

The Golden Temple has not always been such a peaceful place. The Punjab Province, where Amritsar is located and Sikhism was born, experienced a great deal of unrest in the 1980s. Sikhs were unhappy with the government of Indira Gandhi and wanted to form an independent nation, Khalistan, from the Punjabi speaking provinces of India and Pakistan. Rebel groups formed and armed themselves, eventually taking refuge in the Golden Temple in 1983 demanding the independence of Punjab Province. Mrs. Gandhi (no relation to THE Gandhi) who was politically and religiously Hindu, decided to use a strong-arm military tactic instead of negotiation. On June 5th, 1984 she ordered the Indian army to storm the temple to evict and kill the militants. The results were disastrous. After two days of heavy fighting much of the temple was destroyed and thousands of innocent Sikh pilgrims were killed. This resulted in Sikhs protesting around the world and further unrest in Punjab Province. Sikhs have a very bloody history full of political persecution and it is actually a requirement that all Sikhs carry a special sword, "Kirpan" at all times as a reminder of their duty to defend their faith against injustice. They had their revenge on October 31, 1984 when Indira Gandhi was shot by two of her Sikh body guards. This led to anti-Sikh riots throughout India, and relations between Hindus and Sikhs are still tense, despite years of rapprochement. In India religion and politics are taken much more seriously than in America; they are often a matter of life and death.

So there is your daily dose of religious history. If you think that you will never actually run into a Sikh, you are almost certainly wrong; there are over a million Sikhs in North America, all of whom can be recognized by their special turban which covers their uncut hair. I will leave the Sikh homeland in two days on an overnight train to Rishikesh, which is a Hindu holy city that is popular with backpackers. I have photos of a few photos of Delhi and some decent photos of the Golden Temple now.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Safe and Sane Thanks to Bahrain

I think that I have finally arrived in Delhi, but it feels more like I have woken up in a cartoon; a world full of vivid colors, bizarre characters, layers and layers of ridiculous sound effects, and constant unceasing motion in every direction. Not to mention the smells; exotic spices, urine, baking bread, burning trash, perfumes, and body odor (most likely my own) fill the air. All in all it is a little overwhelming after three nights of little or no sleep on trains, airport chairs, and planes.

The trek began when I said some heartfelt goodbyes at Yakabagh house and headed off to Istanbul on an overnight bus. Being ever-conscious of my ever-depleting budget, I bypassed Istanbul and took the bus company's free shuttle to the airport. Supplied with a jar of Nutela and a loaf of bread, I waited out until my 4 a.m. flight to Bahrain (a tiny island in the Middle East for those of you, like me, who had no idea). This turned into a 6:30 flight, but they mercifully served a nice breakfast, and the best was yet to come. I was fully prepared for 14 hours of reading and munching on junk-food in the Bahrain airport during my layover, but after disembarking, the passengers were directed to a customer service counter at which we were issued hotel and meal vouchers! Every budget backpacker's dream! As if in a dream, I was transported to a four star hotel in the Kingdom of Bahrain with a full-out-all-you-can-eat international lunch buffet waiting for me! Hummus, grilled vegies, Morrocan rice and lamb, Tandoori chicken, Polynesian beef, Thai shrimp curry, and a whole table of deserts! I ate until walking became strenuous, and standing up straight was impossible. After a luxurious shower and a glorious nap, I went down for Round 2, which was pretty uninspired because my digestive system was still trying to deal with the pounds of spices, meat, and flavors that bombarded it only a few hours before. I was then taken back to the airport where my flight was boarding and where another meal was promptly served. This whole post may be heavy with food references, but when you have a budget of about $5 a day, free meals are a big deal, and two free all-you-can-eat meals in one day is a miracle that needs to be communicated to the world.

I was a little nervous for my arrival in Delhi because I had been reading my Lonely Planet guidebook (I finally broke my own "no guide book" rule because India is just too big and confusing) about how the taxi drivers at the airport are some of the best scammers in the world. Sure enough, they tried every scam in the book. Literally. First he tried to charge me double the going rate. No problem, I was expecting that one. I just held my ground, walked away as if I was going to another driver, and he caved in to my price. That was the easy part. When we were in the car he immediately asked me if it was my first time in India, sizing me up for the next scam, just as the LP guide said. I answered with a non-chalent "no, of course not", but the driver didn't seem impressed. He then asked if I had called to confirm my room, which I hadn't. I told him not to worry about it because I had an email confirmation. Still, he insisted on calling to check on my room because it is the tourist season and many hotels are over-booked and he doesn't want me to be stranded without a room. Of course it is just my well-being that he has in mind, right? Not even close. The scam is that he calls a different number, some friend, and he says the hotel gave away the room. Then he can take me to another hotel from which he will get a nice commission for bringing in a hapless tourist. I was well aware of this one too, so I refused to let him call. He took that in stride and said that he had to stop at a "tourist information center" because the address I provided was "no good", which was obviously B.S. because I had the exact address as well as two landmarks that it was near. Of course at the "information center" there was a sketchy guy who insisted that my hotel did not exist and that there is a much better on just down the street . . . that is when I had to raise my voice and actually get angry. All of a sudden we were back in the car and two minutes later I was at the door to my hotel! Amazing how that works. Of course the hotel also tried to scam me by telling me that all the economy rooms were full and that I would have to take a deluxe room, by this point I was already jaded and demanded the same room I had reserved, and Viola! I had my economy room. I guess I'm glad I'm getting my India Ripoff's 101 course out of the way early, but I'm sure it will become exhausting eventually.

I'll be spending my first two days in India taking things very slowly. I slept for six hours before finally venturing out into the urban jungle to find an internet cafe and write this post. Next; more napping. I have six months in the country and I'm in no hurry to get the inevitable "Delhi Belly" that plagues travelers who are plopped into a whole new universe of germs and bacteria while their immune systems are worn and vulnerable. So I'm taking things slowly, I have lots of time to explore the city.

I'll have pictures as soon as I suck up my pride and put on my tourist uniform. Until then, I have my Yakabagh photos up on Picasa.