The Things That Can Happen When You Follow An Elephant Home

One day I followed an elephant and ended up in one of the most amazing circumstances I have ever found myself in. And I don't know how to put it all into words. What I do know is that it was one of the most authentic situations I have ever experienced and it showed the level of hospitality that exists here in Assam.

The beginning of my visit to the northeast area of India was filled with disappointments. I wanted to visit Nagaland, but I had no permit and it was going to require going to Delhi to get one. I was told about Arunachal Pradesh and the Buddhist temple at Tawang. It sounded good and I wanted to go there. But again I had no permit and it was going to cost too much to fix that. The tea research center in Jorhat was closed when I went to visit. The gibbon wildlife sanctuary was unmanned. The satras on Majuli island were boring. Majuli itself was fairly pedestrian, as far as I was concerned. It was really feeling like it had been a bit of a mistake to come out here instead of heading into the more “standard” areas of India. But...

After the tea research center turned out to be closed, I headed in the direction of another of the places suggested by the man at Assam Tourism, Dekhiakhowa Namghar. This was to be a cultural experience, but it was not described, so it was an unknown cultural experience. I took a public transport out to the little town where I could get to the place. I was pointed down a road and told it was at the end. And I began to walk. It was actually a nice country road and quite a nice walk. I saw rice fields and little rural houses. I saw people doing their daily things. I had gotten a fair distance along the road and was wondering if I was ever going to reach this cultural spot, when along the road going in the opposite direction, I saw a man on an elephant. I stopped to take a photo of the elephant and the man stopped the elephant and beckoned for me to follow him. And in a spur of the moment, I decided to follow. I have described that day in another entry, so I won't say any more about that day, except that I was invited to the foundation ceremony of the temple and it was to be on the 31^st of October and the 1^st of November.

After I returned from Majuli and had the disappointment with the gibbon wildlife sanctuary, I was starting to wonder if anything was going to really work out very well. I was even a bit pessimistic about the Saikia's temple ceremony. But the lure of a truly authentic cultural experience was stronger than the pessimism, and on the last day of October, I headed out once again to Ladoigarh to see what would happen. I retraced my steps from my first visit and walked along the country road once again. In the distance I could hear some sounds that came as though over a loudspeaker. I took that to mean that I was actually going to be witnessing something, as I thought it was coming from my destination. Before I went in I snuck past in order to go and see the Dekhiakhowa Namghar place and see why I had been told to go there. I can't say I was all that impressed. It certainly welcomes lots of guests, as there was a fair-sized souvenir/service area out front, including a large parking area. There didn't seem to be many people visiting this day though. Or maybe I was just at the wrong time. But had I come all that way on the first day and only seen this place of worship, I think I would have felt ripped off. I was suddenly very, very glad that I had happened across the path of an elephant.

With a bit lighter step, I headed back to the temple and went in, not quite sure what to expect. I was immediately greeted by members of the Saikia family, who remembered me well and were clearly very glad that I had come back. I was taken into the now finished temple and given a seat and got to watch the middle ceremony. The daughter came by after a few moments and welcomed me back. She told me that I had missed the temple's puja, which had been held at 11:00. I was sorry about that. I should have asked more questions about what would happen and when when I was there the first time. I had understood that I could come by at any time and it would be good. I would have liked to have witnessed that first ceremony. But I still had lots that I could see. The group that was there was blessing the temple as well as being blessed by the “priests” who were officiating. These included a head honcho for the whole of Assam.

And though it was a very important day for the Saikia family, as well as the Bora family (who had donated the materials for the temple in honour of their mother), there was lots of merriment and it was definitely not a solemn occasion. Nor was it strict. Mr. Saikia was encouraging me to take photos and even had one of the “priests” pose for me when he got out of one his positions too soon.

And, of course, we took a photo together.

The blessings took place for everyone and then there was a bite to eat. This was served on banana leaves and consisted of some fruit and a mixture of nuts of various sorts.

Now, in Hindu religion, the elephant has a special place. The Hindu elephant god is Ganesha and has a particular affinity with Shiva. So the family's elephant (that seems such an odd thing to write) was brought in fairly often to be part of the festivities and she had fairly free reign of the temple. Then she would be led away again.

While these festivities were going on, I met the woman who was more or less responsible for the temple coming into existence. They referred to her as Baba. She's the woman with the red hair. She is a holy woman who is apparently able to channel the energy of Shiva. At night she often has dreams that are from Shiva. In one of her dreams, she apparently dreamt of the spot where the Saikia temple is located and came and told them to build a temple for Shiva. And so they did. Now she was here to help them open it, or whatever it would be called. During the time when I was meeting people, I was invited to return that evening for a musical presentation by Mr. Saikia's son and a group of people with whom he performs. Baba also invited me for the next night, when there would be a dance performance. I thought it would be interesting to attend both and I accepted. I also thought it would be good to come to the performance that Baba invited me to attend because she was basically associated with a god and I didn't want to offend. It would mean changing my plan and going on to Kaziranga a day later. I would also have to cancel the place that one of the Assam Tourism people had helped me book. But I didn't think it would be a big problem. The only thing I wasn't sure how to work out was how to get back and forth. Then another of the Bora family, the sister of the man I met the first day I was there, said they would take me back and forth.

We headed back to Jorhat and I tried to get back to the Assam Tourism office in time to catch the officers, but I just missed them. I would have to cancel my room the next day.

At about 7, Mrs. Bora and her husband came to pick me up again and take me out to the Saikia home for the evening's program. Unfortunately, we arrived just as the musical performance was ending. I had really wanted to see that, but it wasn't to be. I did take a photo of the son in costume though, along with one of his friends.

I was also becoming, as can be imagined as I was the only foreigner in this whole group of however many local Assamese, a bit of the center of attention in some ways. Lots of people came to talk to me and have their photos taken with me. I didn't really mind.

She was really cute, and she had amazing colour in her eyes.

The evening's festivities were more about blessings and chanting. There were some “priests” sitting before the temple area and reading from the Gita, the Hindu holy book. I was told they would be taking turns and reading for the whole of the night. They were doing so over a loudspeaker, so I don't know how anyone in the neighbourhood was going to be getting any sleep.

At about midnight, we headed back to Jorhat and the Bora's took me to my hotel. I hoped that the hotel wasn't going to be closed up tight, so I could get in and get some sleep. One of the other Bora sons had given me his card and told me to call him the next morning. He would take me to his vegetable/food factory and he would show me some real Assamese food. I wasn't really excited about it, but I told him I would. As it happened, I woke up to rain and it didn't stop until about noon. I didn't really feel like going out to find a public phone call office, and I didn't end up calling him. He was a bit annoyed about that, but then he was also a bit pushy the night before. I remember a conversation we had about religion. He wanted to know what I knew of Hinduism. He asked me what the religion of Canada is, and he was completely dismissive when I told him that Canada has all the religions, mainly because there are so many immigrants who bring their religion with them. That was impossible, he said. Every country has their state religion and he wanted to know what Canada's was. And he just didn't believe me that all the religions are in Canada. He asked me what my religion was. I told him I don't have a religion. He was shocked about that. He even went to far as to suggest a scenario to try and get me to tell him. He told me to imagine that I was walking and came upon a very poisonous snake that bit me. Who would I call out to? I told him I didn't know. He kind of gaped at me and said, “Really?” I thought really hard about whether I would say something like Satan or Mom or some other odd ball, irreverent answer, but I didn't think that would be prudent with someone who was so sure about his views of religion. And so, while I apologized profusely about not calling when I saw him again that evening, I really didn't care that I hadn't called him that morning.

I spent the day just lolling about. At about 4, I headed out to go back to the Saikia property. I got there at just the time I was told, 6 pm. Something was just wrapping up and I thought I might have missed the program. But I was just early. I guess the dance was to begin at about 7 or 7:30, and I had been told the wrong time. I was just glad I hadn't missed anything. I was given a spot to sit for a few minutes. Then there was some speeches being done. Suddenly everyone started looking at me. I gathered they were speaking about me. Then they beckoned me up to the microphone. Nothing like being put on the spot with no warning. I was asked to say a few words about how I felt being there. It was a bit awkward, but I managed to tell everyone that I was honoured and touched to be included so warmly in the foundation ceremony of the temple and that everyone was treating me so wonderfully. Then they gave me yet another one of the Assamese scarves and I went back to my seat. Then everyone started to break up and leave. I was suddenly worried about my timing again. I was assured that I hadn't missed anything. People were just going to get changed and ready for the evening.

Another friend of the family was very eager to show me his house. So I was told to go with him and he would bring me back in time for the performance. The number of people who showed me such hospitality during the time I spent in Jorhat was amazing. We got on his bike and he took me out to his place, where I met his children and wife and saw their great big new house, that is currently not being lived in. I guess it's not quite complete, and the only room that is being used is the son's study room. Other than that, they are still all staying in the little house in the back. They served me some tea and biscuits and then we all piled into their car and went back to the Saikia place.

We went and got seated and everyone got ready for the dance performance. Before the performance began, there was a final pass and blessing by the elephant. (I forget the elephant's name.)

A group of girls from among the Saikia's neighbours had been working for a couple of days putting together the dances for the evening. There were eight or nine episodes telling some story about Shiva. The first, I was told by the religious Mr. Bora, was the girls trying to wake the sleeping Shiva. Shiva, I noticed, was played by Baba, which only made sense as she does channel his energy. I can lay no claim to knowing what all the dances were about. I assume they represented some story in the canon regarding Shiva. I can only say that, for only a couple of days of practice, those girls did an amazing job of performing those dances. And some of them required a great deal of energy and endurance to perform. The performance took about an hour and a half, and it was very entertaining. I had a very good time.

At the end of the dances, Baba stood by herself in the performance area, just in front of the temple, and seemed to go into a trance. (When she saw the photo later that I took of that moment, she commented that that was the period when she wasn't there, meaning that Shiva had taken over.)

Then the performance was finished. I was sitting wondering what would happen next. The Mrs. Bora who was taking me back and forth to Jorhat came over and told me that Baba was asking to see me. So I went and talked with her for a few minutes before the Bora's said they were leaving and asked if I wanted to stay or leave with them. I left, of course, not wanting to get left somewhere with no way back to Jorhat. In addition, I had come for the dance presentation and that was complete, so there was no other reason for me to stay.

So we finished up with some photos at the entrance to the temple.

And I have another photo with another young lady. This is Mr. Saikia's daughter. She's 17 and she has one of the most interesting names of anyone I have met in a while (aside from Lonsdale in the Solomon Islands). Her name is Rapunzeli. I will print some photos of these couple of days and send them to the family. I think I may also include a version of the fairy tale for her. I have no way of thanking them properly for their hospitality, but that might be something.

I don't know how to thank the Saikias and the Boras and Baba and all of the people who included me in this event. It is something I will never forget and I wish there was some way I could express that properly to them. But words will never be enough and I'm not sure I could ever manage it anyway.

Kaziranga Had Better Deliver

My hopes for the northeast of India have been thwarted and dashed at almost every turn. I originally came on the hope that I would be able to visit Nagaland. It is still unclear to me if I could in fact have made that visit. But I was told I would need a permit to visit the area, a permit that could only be found in Delhi. Then I was told about Arunachal Pradesh state's Tawang and the really nice Buddhist temple there. But again a permit stood between me and the area. A visit to a tea research center was thwarted by a holiday, and the island of Majuli really wasn't all that interesting to me.

On my return to Jorhat, I planned to go and visit one of the other places recommended by the guy in the Assam Tourism office. He told me about a gibbon wildlife sanctuary. He told me that there were trails to follow there and there was even a guest house where I could stay. So, in order to make sure to get there with plenty of time to explore, I got up early at the guest house on Majuli and headed out. There the further surprise at the guest house of a higher price for the room that I had thought. I was pretty sure the young man had told me that the room would be 250 rupees when I checked in. But when I checked out the bill had the price as 350. It was still only 7 dollars, but I really thought he had said 250.

Anyway, I headed down to the ferry jetty, where I met Gili again. She was on her way to Jorhat to attend a seminar. It was good to be able to say goodbye to her. I also got to find out about her work here. She is doing a master's degree in community development and chose to come here to do her work. She has spent a lot of time here in the past few years. She is working with an NGO trying to band some women together in a business venture. The women here make some nice clothing that isn't made or available anywhere else. There is some unique piece of clothing that only the people of Majuli have. But they only make clothing for themselves. Yesterday, as I walked around, I noticed the looms and the thread-making machines under a number of houses, but I thought they were making something for some type of commercial purpose. It turned out that was not the case. Gili is attempting to get them together to make some things to send out to other markets and get some money coming into the island, more than what comes in with the small amount of tourism. It sounds quite interesting, and once again, I saw another person giving their time to try and improve a small part of the world.

It is a bit worrisome what may happen. As the people of Majuli get acquainted with how to make money and what money can do to help their lives, it may be inevitable that the approach to visitors will change and become more challenging, as elsewhere. But then there is no reason they should be denied the access to a better lifestyle, if it's possible and is what they want.

Once we reached the shore, I hopped on a bus and headed in to Jorhat. I arrived at the same bus terminal I used the previous time when I was headed to the tea research station. I hopped a bus to the same location and headed off. I got to the little town of Mariani, where I got off and searched around for smaller van to the gibbon wildlife sanctuary. I found one and we set off. It was only a few kilometers away. The driver was asking me why I was going. He seemed to think I might be coming to do some research at the sanctuary. This sent a small red flag for me. Suddenly I wasn't sure this was going to work out all that well. At length, the driver stopped the van and pointed the sanctuary out to me. I got out and headed across the road to what seemed to be the entrance. There was a sign. There was what looked like a hut where someone might stay, but it was no guest house, and it was quite run-down. And it was empty. I called around a couple of times, but there was no answer. There was a road at the side of the forest, so I figured that maybe there was an actual visitor center someplace off the road. I followed the road for a while. It ran between what was the forest of the sanctuary and a tea estate on the other side. There was no indication that this road led anywhere that might have something to do with a wildlife sanctuary. Eventually I met a man coming the other way. I asked him if the road led to the gibbon wildlife sanctuary. He said no, it led to some other place. Sigh!!!

I rested for a few minutes, for I was carrying my pack with me and it was getting heavy. Then I headed back to the road. I waited under the ranger's shack for a while, just to see if anyone would appear. Nope. So I went to the road and waited for some van back to Mariani to come along. There was no point in waiting around or trying to figure out if it was going to be possible to stay in the area. Perhaps if I had managed to be announced, or somehow to have alerted the ranger to my coming, it might have worked out, but it was going to be too much work to have that happen. And I had the temple foundation ceremony to attend the next day, so I just decided to call it another failed attempt. I really hope Kaziranga works out well.

The final ignominy of it all was that it happened to be the same driver who picked me up going back to Mariani. I had kind of hoped to slink back into town and get back to Jorhat without anyone being the wiser that something like this had happened. I didn't even get that right. Sigh!! I'm not sure what he thought of the situation, but I think he tried to call someone to find out what was going on. I heard something in his phone conversation about “Canada.” I don't think it would have been about anyone else. In the end, I just told him it was okay and headed back in to Jorhat. I returned to the Rhino Hotel and spent the rest of the afternoon checking email and wondering what had happened.

Now, despite all the setbacks out here, there have been some good points. I did meet some really nice people here in Jorhat. They invited me into their homes and made me feel very welcome. I saw Diwali celebrated and followed elephants around to new temples. It is a very nice area, and I will look back and remember it well. But it has also been a disappointment in a bunch of ways as well, and I might have learned more about India by seeing other parts of it with the time I have spent here. But I will never know.

Diwali

This has been one of the strangest as well as one of the most interesting days I have ever spent.

Diwali is one of THE celebrations in India. It only goes for one day and it also seems to coincide with one of the other puja festivals, the Kali festival, but it is one raucous event. The Kali puja has to do with the wife of Shiva, Kali who came out and killed a number of demons. She is the goddess of anger and the people rejoice and celebrate the way she killed demons. The Diwali part of the celebration relates to Brahma, or Rama. Rama had been exiled to a forest for some 14 years and returned to find his wife had been spirited away by some demon. Rama went after her, but was unable to get her back, so he enlisted the help of Hanuman, the monkey god, who helped free Rama's wife from the demon. This story may sound familiar, and it should if you have been following this blog. It is the story I think I first encountered on the island of Bali in Ubud when I went to the cultural dance. I believe it's the same story, the Ramayana, which was done in the Kecak dance.

And Diwali celebrates that story. But there is more to the celebration of Diwali. It is a festival of light (and apparently noise as well). Much like many people in North America celebrate Christmas by putting up lights to decorate their houses, so do the Hindu people in India. So walking around at night there are light displays on many houses. It is quite interesting. There are special lights that are lit by fire. They are some kind of candle cup, with a little lip where liquid can pour out, and the fire is lighted at that lip. In addition to those sorts of lights, shops everywhere sell fireworks and the night is filled with the sound of fireworks going off. Everywhere. And the haze that filled the air was not fog.

The day was also spent in putting some kind of tree, often made out of some kind of banana stalks. Then candles were placed on the “tree's” limbs. The effect was remarkably like a rudimentary Christmas tree. (Well, maybe not really, but it did call Christmas trees to mind.)

Okay, the weird and wonderful part of the day, then. Diwali also meant that many businesses were closed, particularly anything that had to do with the government. This meant that it was a very good thing that I found the tourist information office yesterday. It was closed when I went to talk to them today. It also meant that the tea research institute was also closed for the day. That was the spot that I decided to visit first. It was one of the things I wanted to get to know about Assam, it's tea. So I got up reasonably early in the morning. I was helped in this by the staff of the hotel who rang my room bell at 8 in order to bring me tea and the morning paper. Quite the level of service here, I must say. A good bed and they bring the paper in the morning. I wonder if they treat all their guests so well.

Because of the paper, I actually got a later start than I had planned and didn't end up leaving the hotel before 9. I walked down to where the buses were and got on the correct one to go down the road where the man gave me the directions to the tea institute. I got out at the spot where I saw the tea institute and entered the gate and was stopped by the security guards. They told me it was closed. It still hadn't really dawned on me that it was in fact Diwali, so I didn't really understand why it was closed. I just figured that for some reason they had their day to be closed on a Wednesday. I was disappointed, but not really surprised at that, given how well things have been working out for the past few days. (And you should read the word “well” with an appropriate level of sarcasm.)

I decided to head back to the Assam Tourism office to make sure of anything else that might be closed this day, so that I didn't go anywhere else and find it closed, making it a wasted effort. This would have been more annoying because the other things that I could visit were considerably farther away. I began to walk back as I wasn't sure when buses or the public taxis would come by. A number did as I was walking, and I could have stopped and gotten on any one of them, but it was a nice day and a walk was a good idea. As I was walking, I passed people putting up some decorations and lights and it still didn't occur to me that there was a reason why things were closed.

Then suddenly I kind of heard a “pssst” kind of noise. I stopped and looked around. Across the road was a man and a girl on a bike. She beckoned me over. The conversation began pretty much with a, “Are you a foreigner?” She was really excited to find out that I was indeed from somewhere else. Her English was quite good and she wanted to speak to me. She wanted to go to North America and wanted to speak to foreigners so she could find out about culture and such. She asked if she could meet me later to ask me questions. I didn't figure I would have much going on, so I agreed to meet her later in the afternoon. She got the name of my hotel and told me she would be there at 4. A bit random, but it looked like my day would be a bit more interesting.

I went the rest of the way to the Assam Tourism office and walked in. I was told nobody was there, and that's when it occurred to me that this was a holiday. It explained the closure of the tea institute, and I began to feel a bit better about how things were going, now that I had a good explanation. The man at the hotel desk (the Assam Tourism offices are all associated with a tourist lodge), told me that the cultural place on the list I had been given yesterday would be open, even though it was a holiday. I decided that I could go and visit there and get back in time to meet Poobali and her father at my hotel. So I headed out to figure out how to get there.

I had to take another kind of public transportation. There seems to be three or four kinds. First there is are buses run by various groups. Then there are public taxis. They are little scooters with a multiple person cab on the back. They go various routes and will take people who get on an off. I wouldn't call it a taxi exactly, but they do here, so... The third kind of transport is a converted little van. They work much like the scooter taxis. I had to take one of those. I found one headed in the right direction and got under way. I was headed to Dekhiakhuwo Namghar, a cultural place of some sort. I wasn't sure what it would be like, or even what I was looking for, so I had my eyes peeled. After a short while, my eyes became less peeled as the distance passed and I saw nothing like a cultural area. It was a long way out of town. It took about 30 minutes on the van to get to the little town where this spot was supposed to be. Then the van stopped and they told me this was where I wanted to be and pointed down a road into the countryside. Hmmm... That was a bit weird. This was apparently not a place one would stumble upon by accident.

I started walking. I walked a long way through rice fields and a cluster of houses here and there that might little villages. It was actually kind of nice. I still didn't know what I was looking for, and I never would because suddenly my day took a turn for the weird and wonderful.

Coming along the road in the other direction was a man on an elephant. That was kind of exciting to me, for this is not something that I usually see. So I stopped to take a couple of photos of the man on the elephant carrying some kind of banana leaves. The man stopped the elephant beside me and the elephant examined my face. With its trunk. Have you ever been kissed by an elephant? Strange.

The man urged the elephant on and then beckoned me to follow. But, but... Ah, what the heck, I thought, and followed the elephant. I followed them back a short way to a lane into the trees. They led me to a small temple that was being built. I was beckoned in and they showed me the temple and tried to explain what it was about, but I didn't really understand. Then they sat me down and gave me some tea and biscuits and some fruit. I was a bit bemused. I had no idea what was really going except they were being very gracious hosts. A couple of them spoke a bit of English and explained a couple of things to me. It seemed this was the land of one of the people there. He was building a temple to Shiva. There were two trees inside and from it came some kind of nuts that could be made into necklaces. Wearing the necklace was good luck. There were a lot of men there helping build the temple and they were all neighbours and friends of the man and his family.

After a while, the man's daughter came over and explained that they would finish the temple and there would be a foundation/dedication ceremony on the 31^st of October and the 1^st of November and I was invited to attend. I was beginning to find this quite fascinating and interesting. And it was far more of a cultural experience than any fabricated cultural place could ever be. I agreed to come to the ceremony, if I could remember how to get to the place. It shouldn't be too hard. Then the owner took me into his house and they fed me some lunch. We sat and talked and exchanged contact information. His family name was Saikia. One thing I found very cool was that his daughter's name was Rapujolie. Or something like that. Anyway, when she said her name it sounded a lot like Rapunzel. I told her a bit about that story and she seemed amused. Maybe I will write out the story and take it to her when I go to the ceremony next week. Finally they gave me a scarf/wrap thing as a present. I was touched. And amazed at the hospitality of this family. This had become a much more interesting day than I had planned.

But it was time to head back to town so I could meet Poobali as I had promised. They took me outside and another friend of his was coming by on a motorbike. He was flagged down and was asked to give me a ride to the main road so I could get back to Jorhat.

On the main road, a van was just going past. The motorbike man flagged them down and I got in and was off. The people in this van all gave me the once over, and a couple even asked me a couple of questions. It got interesting when we got to one point where one of the passengers got out. He tried to pay, but the driver and “conductor” thought he should pay more (I think). The guy was getting all up in the face of the “conductor” and I thought I fight might break out. It was pretty tense for a few moments. The women passengers were all trying to get the “conductor” to just let it go and get back in. But the passenger was sticking his finger and hand into the “conductor's” chest and really acting as though he would like it to get more serious. I was a bit worried. But in the end it subsided and we continued on our way.

I got back to my hotel in plenty of time and then sat in the lobby reading my book and waiting. At first I thought that Poobali might not show up. We had agreed on 4 o'clock, but by 4:30 she was still not there. I hadn't finished my chapter, so I was just sitting and finishing it. They walked in. I gathered that they had been putting up lights on their house for Diwali, but there had been some kind of problem, so they were late. She was very sorry.

We chatted for a while and then suddenly they invited me to their house to celebrate Diwali. It was more the girl who invited me. Her father didn't seem to be overly enthusiastic about the idea. I asked him a couple of times if it was all right. He said there was no problem. So off we went. The three of us sat on the one motorbike, and despite the fact that only one of us had a helmet, it still didn't seem to be that dangerous. There are too many things wrong with the road for anyone to be able to go too fast.

We drove into the night, listening to ever more firecrackers and other fireworks being set off. The air filled with haze and smoke and sound. It's a kind of celebration that is no longer possible in Canada because someone might get hurt, or some piece of the explosives might go and start a house or something else on fire, or basically someone who should and probably does know better might do something stupid, and so nobody is allowed to have any fun. On the other hand, the big ones are quite loud when they explode nearby.

We reached Poobali's house and she shouted out to her mother that Ken the foreigner was here. I guess her mother was excited to meet me. It was another one of those rock star moments that I've been having in the less travelled parts of some countries. I was invited in and we sat down and talked for a while. They are a nice family, but the father was very, very pro-George Bush. I guess nobody is perfect. He also claimed to have a solution for the world's economic problems, some kind of formula for countries to use that could make them all better. I wish it was true, but I doubt something like that is going to come from a backwoods town in northeast India. Then again, Albert Einstein came from humble beginnings. Poobali's father wants to work for the Pentagon someday and sees nothing wrong with the way the US operates in the world today. He thinks that the US should attack everywhere and force them to the yoke of their world vision of democracy. In fact, he predicts that Iran is next for war and that it will happen soon. I hope he's wrong on that one. I would like to visit the country before it goes to war with the US. Possibly predictably, he also thinks the British did a very good thing for India, and that they treated the country very well. I don't know enough about the whole history to know, but it seemed that Britain had to be sent away and freedom taken from colonial rule. In any case, he was a very colourful man with lots to say. And he was nice and friendly in the end. So I shouldn't criticize too harshly.

After we all chatted for a while, Poobali took me to meet some of her neighbours. We chatted for a while, then Poobali wanted to take me down to see the Kali puja site. But when she told her father, he nixed the idea. In particular he didn't want to let his guest go because he felt it would dangerous. A lot of the people in the puja site would have been drinking and they could become violent or difficult. I didn't see that there would be a problem. I haven't been faced with anything like that anywhere in the country yet, but I let him have his way. I have seen puja shrines before and so it wasn't a big deal. But Poobali was a bit upset with him. I could tell that she was kind of the boss of the family, and used to getting her way.

She and I chatted in her front yard for a while, and then she decided she wanted to put her pet foreigner on display a bit by calling a friend and having me talk with him. When I put it like that though, she got a bit upset with me. It wasn't like that at all, she said. She was just excited to have a foreign friend. I apologized and let it pass, but I did feel a bit like some kind of exhibit. I don't really blame her. I don't think she gets much opportunity to meet people from elsewhere and she really, really wants to go to North America someday. She actually wants to be on the X-Factor, and she does sing quite well. She was a bit crushed when I told her that she would probably not be able to be on that show because she would probably need to be a US citizen. But she brightened up again when I told her she should just write songs and become famous and then people from the US would come and get her. One of her favourite singers is Bryan Adams, which was a bit interesting.

Then it was time for dinner. Poobali's mother had cooked some food and they brought me in and we ate. Her mother actually didn't eat at that time; she served the three of us. Then when we were done, she had something herself. I thought it was a bit strange, and even wrong given North American cultural standards, but this is a different place with different rules.

After dinner, they gave me another of the Assam scarves as a gift, got my address and gave me their contact information before Poobali's father gave me a ride back to my hotel, ending my weird and wonderful day.

I don't know if it was just Diwali, or if that is the way the Assamese are, but that was a very touching day for me, to be invited into not one but two homes and fed and given gifts, all with no expectation from me except that I have a good visit. It is much different out here.

Onwards to Jorhat

Although I planned to get a fairly leisurely start to my day and travel to Jorhat, my internal time clock had other ideas. I had been waking at 5 and 6 in the morning and this morning was no different. I was also in a dorm room with 5 other people and some of those had early mornings as well. So I was up and awake at 7 and had nothing much to keep me in place. I decided I might as well get a move on, and headed over to the bus station at about 7:40. I got there and got a ticket on a bus that was leaving at 8. Great.

There was more evidence of the reverence for the holy cow on the trip to Jorhat. Cows were standing around unmolested in the middle of the street.

In Jorhat, the road passes by the city on a by-pass and the bus was actually headed to another city. So they stopped at the junction of the by-pass and the road into the town proper and dropped the people off who were heading to Jorhat. And of course I, being my usual prepared self, didn't have much clue to how far out of town I might be or indeed where I was in relation to anything. As I got off the bus, there was the usual collection of touts waiting for people to get off buses. I ignored them and headed across the street and down a bit to where there were a couple of hotels. It didn't seem to be the center of town, but I was unsure how big Jorhat actually was, so I could have been in the exact center of town and not known it. (As it turned out I was actually probably 3 or 4 kilometers from the town center, something I would find out when I walked downtown later.)

One of the hotels was called the Hotel Rhino. I considered that to be an auspicious signal, as I wanted to visit the nearby Kaziranga National Park in order to see rhinos, so I stopped in to see how expensive it might be. It came to about 9 dollars, and the room was quite nice, so I took it. The true selling point was when I felt the bed and it was an actual mattress (albeit a foam mattress), and I would be sleeping on a real bed for the first time in weeks. I was going to sleep well that night.

A little while later, I headed out to see some of the town, and to find the Assam Tourism tourist lodge and office. That's when I found out just how far out of town I actually was.

I didn't know where it was exactly, except that it was near the town's fire station. But this was a much bigger town than Tezpur had been and just wandering around wasn't enough to find the lodge. In the end, some friendly university students stopped me to have a chat and they were able to point me in the right direction. I found the tourism office and met a very nice man there as well. I left with tons of information and a packet of brochures and maps that would help me figure out what to do with myself for the next few days until Kaziranga National Park opened for tourism for the year. They really do treat visitors well to this state, and their tourist lodges are top notch in terms of facilities and information.

Then it was back to hotel for the evening. Along the way I stopped to get a haircut. It was amazing. The cut itself was just a normal cut, although he did it all by hand and with scissors instead of a shaver. But afterwards, the barber gave me a scalp massage that was amazing. I have never had such a treatment. And afterwards my neck, which has been bothering me for a few weeks, felt much better. This was all for the fantastic sum of about 80 cents. I love India!!