The following two posts were written in February 2010 in Vietnam

Avoid Puddles if it hasn’t been raining
I am sitting in Highland’s coffee waiting for my latte. It has been a long week, but interesting I must say. I have met so many nice, interesting, odd, friendly, smelly, cute, amazing people during the past 7 days. I cannot keep track of their names, where I met them and who they are friends with, but I know that many of them have contributed to the impression I have gotten so far of the city that will be my home for the next 6 months. When coming here, I didn’t know what to expect. I knew it would be crowded, dusty, busy and sometimes smelly. I knew that I would most likely LOVE the food and the mentality. What I didn’t know was that I would be thrown into situations where I would face my western roots and admit that there ARE things you cannot and will never understand.

In the following blog entry I will draw out some interesting stories, experiences that I have found strange or different and episodes that have made me wonder. The way that I will be describing these situations is not meant to insult anybody or hurt someone’s feelings, it is meant as my subjective point of view coming from a part of the world that functions particularly differently in many aspects of life.

One of my favourite subjects is marriage. I don’t know if it interests me so much because I am not particularly interested in getting married myself or whether I just keep running into situations where I need to ask questions and end up interrogating poor girls and boys about their love lives. However, every time I do so, I pick up new interesting stories and traditions, so watch out, out there, you may be next.. 🙂 I picked up the Vietnamese part of the marriage tale on my second day in HCMC (short for Ho Chi Minh City) when I spend my Sunday with three lovely girls. To make it easier for you to imagine, Vietnamese girls are generally very giggly, they love little miss kitty things, flowers and baby-pink and often look half their age. I know I am generalising at the moment, but if you came here, you would know what I mean. There are, of course, girls who do not fit this description, but the majority would definitely be able to see themselves in the picture. So, the girls I was hanging out with are around 27 years old (of course looked 20), non of them are married or in relationships. I tried to ask in a polite way if they were seeing anyone, but even though Vietnamese people are very direct when asking about weight, income and any other issue that I may find private, the girls started giggling and were very shy when trying to answer my question. Vietnam does not have the sort of dating culture as we have, daaaaah, which didn’t surprise me at all, so neither of the girls have ever had a boyfriend and as they are close to turning 30 this whole machine of boy-hunting has started for them. They said that they really want to find a boyfriend, but I am not sure that I believed them deep deep inside. They said that it would be very complicated and difficult if they were not married before 30, as society is build around a certain custom saying that men cannot marry a woman if she is older than 30 or even worse, marry a woman who is older than himself.

This leads to a fantastic story about a romance which started in the SCC office about two years ago. An American woman (about 32 years old) was volunteering in SCC. She worked very closely with a Vietnamese man (about 27 at the time) and during their work, they fell in love. In many cases, this love would have been a true heart ache, but these two people took up the fight with family and society and are now married and live together in HCMC. Miracles DO happen.

As you may have guessed, marriage is not the only thing that is different in this country. An interesting story that I was told during lunch today literally almost made me choke. A lot of families live in very small houses where the whole family sleeps on the floor, close together without covers or blankets. If any children are reading, please close their eyes as this inner picture may be very frustrating. The story goes like this. My friend and colleague from SCC knows a surgeon who during his education went on an internship in HCMC. Every week there would be a man visiting the clinic with a broken penis. Yes, I was thinking the same, broken? How? Why? Where? WOW… Every week. This is literally a general problem. How? Shit! So, the thing is, men are bound to wake up once in a while with a hard penis, boys, you may recognise this. This is not very convenient when lying on a floor among children, elderly and women, so these men are trying to hide their penis and somehow make the erection go away. This violence against the little man apparently breaks him. SCARY as hell!

While sitting at Highland’s coffee I looked out of the window and spotted a safe sex clinic/shop on the other side of the street. I was very glad to see that this type of shop actually exists, but when I looked over there again, three small children ran out of the clinic. He he.. Just one of the small incidents that make me wonder sometimes.. 🙂

The last observation I will be dealing with in this blog is probably the most difficult one while also, for me, one of the most disturbing. The observation is about how knowledge about germs, bacteria and the spread of these have made cleaning standards and even law in Denmark so much higher and harsher than they are in Vietnam. When walking the streets in HCMC it is almost impossible to miss the very characteristic smell of pee. I don’t know if this is due to a high number of people living in the streets (who I haven’t seen many of yet, actually) or whether it is because people just don’t know how fast germs spread, particularly in hot whether, but either way, this smell is only evident in a very few places in Copenhagen. The difference is very evident when it comes to food. There are obviously nothing close to the ‘smiley’ system that we have in Denmark. Nobody checks up on restaurants and there are no rules as to how long the food is kept and hoe many degrees it needs to be stored at. This means that many of the stalls on the streets sell food at lunchtime or for dinner that in some cases have been prepared in the morning. This food has been standing there in the heat all day attracting germs and pollution from the traffic. No wonder people get sick from eating that!

My friend told me another very interesting story about her first year in HCMC. Because she worked a lot, she hired a maid to do the cleaning and laundry and those things. This is very common, but also, in this case, quite a chance to take.. She had a feeling that this maid was not doing a very good job and that she had very little understanding about germs and the things mentioned above, but the only thing she could put her finger on was that the maid picked her nose. She figured it wasn’t a good enough reason to fire her, so she kept an eye on her for a while. This truly made it a lot easier, as she caught her one day washing the bathroom floor with the toilet brush. I don’t know what I would have done in that situation, because the poor girl must have had absolutely no clue at all about bacteria and all those things, but she was fired awfully quickly… I will let you all think about this while I will try to forget and pretend that I haven’t heard these stories. Otherwise, I think my life in HCMC will be slightly more difficult and expensive than it already is. 🙂
Why does everything have to be sooooooooooooooo cumbersome?
Getting a motortaxi, subscribing to the gym, buying a mattress, renting a house, everything is one big never ending negotiation. It is a matter of who stays firm and who doesn’t. Things don’t really have a price. They have the price the seller can get from the customer, nothing less. This means that getting home from a nice dinner can take a long time, especially when you are not a stupid and ignorant tourist who doesn’t know the real price. As I have started knowing the price, it has become quite difficult for me to make anyone take me home, because they know that another foreigner will come by any minute and they can charge even more. Sometimes, though, the buyer is on top. In the gym, Chinh and I managed to get 2x 3 months membership for 100 dollars, whereas the actual membership price is three times higher. It took us a few hours and a long process of being told five million times that we were too fat around our hips and needed exercise (hrmf) to make the deal, but we managed – and went for pizza afterwards.. haha.. 🙂

My biggest concern at the moment is our negotiations with landlords, real estate agents and house owners. We never know if they are trying to screw us or if they are in fact giving us a good deal. We just have to hope for the best and check the contract one hundred times before signing.. Sigh! However, even though we now know how to bargain and how to stay firm and all these things, everything is still so annoying. You can barely buy a shampoo without having to bargain. You have to walk away and come back in order to make them give a more reasonable price. This is why I found a supermarket. A real supermarket, where prices are fixed and printed on the groceries. It may be a little bit more expensive, but whatever I can do to get out of bargaining hell, I will indeed do it!!

Being a European I have been raised looking at the world with a certain perspective. Therefore, joining a discussion about the influence of colonisation on a normal Monday night in Singapore turned out VERY interesting. I know that the English influenced Singaporean culture, the French influenced Vietnamese culture and that development of infrastructure came with colonisation. What I didn’t think of before is that laws, regulations and a range of customs and ways of thinking came with the same colonising powers. However, back in the days when Europe was colonising the world, laws and regulations were not in the state they are in today and many of the laws that have been long gone in Europe are, thus, still present in the Singaporean law enforcement. Whether this is a result of the evil coloniser’s need to enforce European culture on Asian countries or whether the Asian population have been ignorant in not following the development of the judicial system in Europe is a debate that kept us awake until fairly late that night.

My European eyes find the Singaporean laws and punishments very hard and to a certain extend inhuman, just as the European laws and punishments in the 19th century, in my perspective, were unnecessarily humiliating and barbaric. It is interesting, though, how a population of 4.2 million people live under these hard and inhuman laws finding them fair and necessary and not inhuman as I do. For the readers who don’t know about the Singaporean judicial system, I can inform you that capital punishment is quite common and that an even more common punishment is caning (i.e. stokkeslag). I know that the stick doesn’t kill, but I find it difficult to draw a line between beating another person with a stick and stoning which is a common punishment in the Sharia law. What on earth makes it alright to beat someone else? Does the uniform do the trick? I know that most Singaporeans would argue that the laws in Singapore are purely preventive and that it actually works. The crime rate in Singapore is very low, but I wonder if it would have been as low if the punishment was less inhuman?

Not only the governmental laws and regulations carry the footprint from the European colonisers. The customs in disciplining children have also stayed in Singapore. I have had endless discussions with close friends about the issue because I find it absolutely unnecessary to whip children and discipline them with a cane. Physical disciplining has been illegal in Denmark for decades, but finding a whip or a cane in a parental shop in Singapore is as easy as finding dog food in a pet shop. I am glad to know, though, that the custom is dying out. My friends do not want to physically discipline their children and I sure hope that the new generation will follow in their footsteps – not because I want to force Western standards on Asian customs, but because I believe that children can learn without being punished.

What is supposed to be in a preface? Is a preface just a way to introduce the coming entries or should it give the reader an understanding of the purpose behind the blog? Either way I will use this preface to paint a picture of the thoughts I have had before meeting Vietnamese culture and my reasons behind exploring life there and wanting to give my donation – however not monetary.

Sitting on the train in Denmark watching how people tend to choose the seats as far from other passengers as possible, makes me start wondering. I am wondering if they just don’t want contact with other people or if we, as professor in intercultural communication, Geert Hofstede, claims, have one of the most individualistic cultures in the world. And does our individualistic culture mean that we don’t really care about how we are fortunate to be born in a country where the state supports our education, a country where we know that there will always be a range of safety nets catching us, if we happen to take a wrong step? I can’t help hoping that all the people on this train are donating some of their thoughts, experiences, expertise or money to the people around the world who were not born as fortunate. A trip to the supermarket sometimes makes my hopes fade slightly. I am not saying that ‘the saint Kiri’ is thinking about unfortunate people every minute of her day. But watching how people take extra cheese, extra bread, extra everything just because they can, experiencing how people can get upset about a small mistake, letting their anger out on the poor girl at the counter, tends to make me a tiny bit angry.

These people have everything they can ever dream of. Poor people in Ho Chi Minh City, and the provinces surrounding it, do not. The families in the slums of Ho Chi Minh City think that the best way to make money is by sending their children into the streets to ‘earn’. They think that they will lose their income if their children have to be in school during the day – and they may be right. If schools in the slums only teach the children how to be quiet and only are able to hire teachers who rarely are educated enough to teach the needed subjects, the children will not gain the knowledge and skills acquired when climbing the job ladder. This vicious circle keeps turning until the education level is raised and until families can actually see the benefit of other children getting a proper education.

Saigon Children’s Charity was created to support this cause and spending time in an individualistic culture has made me want to explore Asia in all its facets – which this time turned out to be in Vietnam. I have traveled a great deal in Asia and have not stopped asking the families I have met and the random people in planes, shops and elsewhere for reasons why they think they do what they do the way they do it. I have had long talks and discussion about everyday life and have experienced the differences between the way I think and the way they do. I will attempt to take up a range of issues during my stay in Vietnam and I hope you will join my discussions and give me your ideas and thought throughout.

Before I leave you, I will use this preface to express my love to my dear friends who host me around the world. Sunny, Daughty and Simrat, thank you so much for spending time and energy trying to explain Indian ways and culture to me. I know I sometimes was a pain in the neck, but I hope you enjoyed our discussions, or at least the outcome of them, as much as I did. You have taught me some great lessons – one of them: to listen – to respect if I cannot accept. Shalini, Arul and Vasanthy, I cannot thank you enough for taking care of me when I was unable to move, eat and at some points speak! Without you I don’t know what I would have done and I truly felt like your adopted daughter while staying with you. Last, but not least, thank you Kane for opening your house to me as if I was your sister. Singapore would never be the same without Windy Heights and (as promised 🙂 ) you are so cool, man…….

I can’t wait to meet my new host family in Vietnam, Thao and the rest of you, you have already helped me in so many ways and by giving me the opportunity to stay with you, you have made it possible for me to follow this dream of mine. Thank you so much for everything!

This post is my blog written during a 3 week visit in India over Christmas and New Years 2008/09.

The Sad Reality
This is one of those stories that you would wish wasn’t true..

My new friend, our guide Papu from Jaisalmer told us his story after just a small question: ‘Are you married?’

Papu owns a hotel with his brothers, he is originally from a small village in the desert where he grew up among goats, sheep and camels. When he was about 13 he went to Jaisalmer to work and already then his marriage was settled. His destiny was made out for him..

While working in the guide and hotel business he met a lot of foreigner and heard about their lives far away. In the beginning he missed them all as soon as they left, but during the years he learned that he needed to stay positive and use these connections to his own benefit.. This is what he will do when he finally gets to travel Europe for a few months next year…

However, the sad reality is not as simple.. from the story above, Papu seems like the world is at his feet, but what exactly was the answer to my simple question…. not a very simple answer…

As you all know, India is devided in what they call castes.. At first I thought that castes defined how rich you were, but it is nothing like that. Castes devide people according to their heritage.. This means that because Papu is born in a village in Jaisalmer, he had to marry a girl from another village. He could not just find whomever he wanted, as they had already made the decision before he knew how to protest..

When he turned 2 he married this girl and as he lived in Jaisalmer and worked in the hotel, the girl moved in with his family in his village. They have a daugther who is now 4 years old and she also lives in the village. Simrat told me that they lives these girls live are terrible. They are not allowed to go anywhere, they need to stay in the villages and do as they are told. Make food, take care of children etc. Papu tries his best to help his wife and his sister (actually mostly his younger sister) to get a better life. She is now in school even though she is 16 years old.. This is very uncommon, but great for her!

So the constellation for Papu is right now that he has told his wife that he doesn’t want to live with her, but want s to live the life he has in the hotel and travel to see the world. But not all the people from the villages can do that and may gain power to try and fight the system, so the sad reality is that too many millions of young boys and girls are married off in a too young age to take up a life beyond their choice..

Everyday Chaos In Chandigarh
The past few days have been a mix of relaxing chaos, reading and going from shop to shop to get one thing at the time.. We are here mostly to relax, but as you may know it is a tiny bit difficult for me to relax and just sit around, so I have managed to read more than half of my fantastic book, Shantaram, already.. Simrat has had a lot of applications to do because she is either going to start a master’s after May or get a job in Singapore. She will have to finish everything before we leave for Rajasthan, so she is a bit stressed while I get restless lying there with my book..

However, I have slept like a baby… or actually lived like a baby, except for the crying part.. I have slept, eaten, slept a bit and so fourth.. Only interupted by the shopping! Shopping is as I have written in another discussion a bit more cumbersome here than in Denmark.. Each little store has / or may not have just one of the things you need. Therefore a little shopping for bread, cheese and bananas can take some time driving through the herd of cars, bicykles, scooters, dogs and people in the streets. It is fun, though.. I enjoy sitting in the car just looking at the chaos in order outside the window..

We went to a showroom yesterday where they sell handicraft from different regions in India.. I will not tell you what I got, cos some of it is presents (and dont know which yet).. One thing I know I will keep myself is this long-legged, long-armed black steal man with a golden head and a stick in his hand.. It is one of those things that I will put somewhere at home and dust off once in a while, but I found him very cool.. Simrats mum got him down from 550 to 400 rupees (approx. 50 kr.), but the guy selling it was very stubborn! They all are here, I feel. Maybe when we get to Rajasthan it will get a bit cheaper, but I will not get my hopes up..

I dont know if I have mentioned it, but all the days here we have been looking for a card reader for the big memory card in my camera.. We have been to many different shops, but kept coming back to one particular shop with this very nice old long-haired man with a blue hat.. He sits like this king in his photo shop and is the only one who can take money from people and it seems as if everything goes through him.. This man, after we had been there the third time was so nice. He has his own card reader which is of very good quality and he was trying to get just like it for me, but he didnt manage as it would take around 15 days to get it.. So he lend it to me.. I will then transfer my pictures to an USB stick on Sunday!! and then give the reader back to him Monday.. Is that a nice man or what? Of course he asked for a deposit, but I will not have to pay for the reader and will have all my photos transfered before going on the long trip.. I have also bought a memory card doubble the size of the one I already have! Thanks again dad for letting my borrow the camera!!!! Sit tight and Sunday I hope to be able to post some for you!

The family I live with is so nice! Her dad said yesterday that I am like a daughter to him and they bought me presents such as a very nice handicrafted garment called Filgari or something and then something I can’t tell cos some of it is not only for me.. They take me to really nice restaurants and make the most delicious food! Tomorrow all of us are going on a day-trip to see their golden temple in Amritsar and the border to Pakistan.. They will dress me up as an Indian girl in a Punjabi suit and I am so excited! :o) ;o)

I will go try it on now and leave you to whatever you were doing before.. Take good care of eachother for me!

Network makes you VIP
If networking in Denmark is important, networking in India is crucial!!!! Simrat’s dad is luckily very good at it! He knows people all around and he takes a lot of time just talking to people in order to make them like him (he is a great man, so anyone who gets to know him, will like him) so that they do stuff for him..

The other day we went to Amritsar which is very close to Pakistan.. We went there to see the Golden Temple which is the Sihk religion’s monument, if you can say it that way.. Is is a temple which lies in the holy water. The entire temple is made in gold and there are the most beautiful carvings inside.. It was fantastic to see it and especially with people who could explain everything to me.. If not, I would peobably have wondered why people went swimming in the lake even though it was FREEZING cold!..

That day I actually wore Indian clothes.. It attracted a lot of attention from people around us and a group of school girls were so shy and wanted to hear me speak as if I had fallen from a different planet. It was fun, though! ANd the clothes was very comfortable!!!

Well.. We had some time to kill, and Simrat’s mum is originally from Amritsar, so we went to visit some family.. They lived in a joint family, two brother and their wifes and a lot of kids.. I saw only boys, so they must bne considered a very lucky family! THEN comes the fun part…

Through network, Simrat’s dad had arranged for us to go see the closing ceremony at the gate to Pakistan.. This is something many Indians do as a night outing or something.. We came to the first gate by car.. There were people everywhere waiting outside the gate.. Network made us drive through the large group of people and into the border area.. We skipped the line big time!! Or line is probably not the right word.. They dont really do that here.. I was very glad to skip that part as I found out how pushy they can be when we had to board the train in Delhi! It was crazy, absolutely insane! I have never experienced anything like it! People almost fell on the dirty station because everyone rushed as crazy!

Well, back to the border. We went inside and sat, stood waiting.. Then Simrat’s dad found out that our message had not come through yet.. So he used a little networking and mnaged to get us FRONT seats to this ceremony.. It was quite interesting to see..

Well, while we were waiting inside they opened the gate to the crowd. People were litterally RUNNING to get in front and get the best seats. I understand why now, as I have seen how big the crowd is and can imagine how little people must have been able to see from the far back.. We went through the crowd and through another gate. We sat VERY close to the gate and could see everything that happened!

I must admit that I found this cerwmony hilarious even though it is very serious for both the Indians and the Pakistanis. They were these funny-looking uniforms and hats and walk relly fast stamping the ground and slams the gate… It took a while actually while the crowds on both sides were shouting India is great, Pakistan is great… Quite an experience!!

Well… I gueaa this was all for now.. I will go have some luch and think of you while I sit in this waterful roof terasse looking out on beautiful Rajastan!

Christmas on a camel
It was so amazing!

After a very long and tough train journey from first Chandigarh to Delhi and the next day Delhi to Jaisalmer close to the Pakistani border we reached Jaisalmer three hours late.. We aldready thought that it would be too late for the desert safari as they usually leave the hotel around 2 pm and we git there at 3.. BUT this very nice man had arranged it for us so that we could go later and meet up with the rest of the group later..

We took a quick shower to wash off the stinking train and went straight to the desert.. Our first stop was in a small village where a 14 year-old boy took us around to meet his 90 year-old grandmother who was making flour on an oldfashioned grinder and his mother and siblings. We saw their small kitchen and the way they sleep inside on blankets every night. It was so amazing! Actually, even though they are poor, it seemed like the life in a village is a lot better and cleaner than a life in Delhi or another big city in India!

Have anyone ver sat on a camel before? IT IS SO SCARY WHEN IT GETS UP!! You feel like you will definitely fall off in a second! But of course noone did and after a short while we got used to sitting on the camel.. Not that comfortabel, though, but such a great experience!

We walked through the desert for about half an hour and made it to our camp just in time to see the sun set.. I have some great pictures of our shadows i the sand.. I couldnt quite make the camera take good pictures of the sunset, so I will keep that as a memory…

Then the music started! Two girls were dansing, one was 14 and the other 22. They had bells on their feet and twirled around to the sound from a funny instrument. It sounded kinda like a bag pipe (do you call it that?).. We sat around the fire and laughed and smiled all night. Had nice dinner from the not so hygenic ‘kitchen’ and dansed with the girls.

Simrat and I decided to sleep outside under the stars.. They made beds for us from blankets like the ones we had seen in the house and covered us.. It was perfect! HOWEVER… in the middle of the night I woke up and needed the toilet. When I Looked to the left of me, I saw a dog.. It was just lying their licking itself clean. Right in my face.. I didnt dare to get up, so I lay there for a while until I REALLY needed to go… Nothing happened, of course! I made it back to bed and couldnt fall asleep with that dog lying there.. After a long time just as the sun was rising I managed and the dog was gone when I woke up..

Dogs run free here.. They are not like the dogs we know at home.. Thats why I got scared because you never know what the dog will do or how it will react to you..

When we had breakfast out there this morning our very smiling guide gave us all a scarf as a christmas present!!! It was the sweetest thing! I had never imagined that they would do that!

All in all.. I can recommend a christmas in the Jaisalmer desert.. but did miss the flaeskesteg and brown potatoes at home! It was very difficult to stand out there surrounded by strangers and talk to Nina, mum and dad.. !!! But I made it! 🙂
Turbans, Indian Italian and ‘Supermarkets’
For the short time I have been in Chandigarh I have started noticing how different men wear their turbans. A turban is not just a turban, it is not just worn in one certain way! Simrat’s dad wears it very nicey with matching shirt and tie, young fancy men wear them very sharp, as in the folding is very tight and sharp.. It looks rather funny.. Then again there are people who just wear them in plain colours.. However, very interesting tradition and religion I must say!

The other day Simrat got a message on her phone which sais something about Italian festival.. We went there and it was this new Italian restaurant/ night club where we had dinner.. On the menu was ‘Sheepard’s pie’ amongst other not very Italien dishes.. Of course they had the traditional lasagna, carbonare and the like, but the mix with European dishes from a range of different places was so funny.. I had expected it, but finding sheepard’s pie on the menu surprised me!!

All these things that are so different continues… We were going shopping for groceries in the supermarket.. We went into what I would think was a small Koebmand (store) – this was the largest store in Chandigarh.. They buy their things in different shops, so for instance if they need shampoo, they go to one store, if they need meat, they go somewhere else… This makes it very cumbersome to go shopping.. but it definitely has it’s charm! ONe thing I found very interesting is that they have the impression that they fruits and vegetables sold on the streets are fresher than the things they can buy in the ‘supermarkets’. Simrat told me that they actually tried to open a few real supermarkets around here, but they tended not to get profits because people simply like the way of shopping as they normally do..

I will now go eat some lovey Indian food and think of you all!! 🙂
Red light does not mean stop!!
Traffic.. Rules in traffic – rules are not made for India!

You can’t help being just a little scared sitting in a car in India – at least not in a taxi!! When coming from a side street, why stop to check whether the coast is clear? When crossing an intersection (at red light) you just use the horn and drive.. Why let the cars, rickshaws and other driving things cross by their green light?

Another very interesting thing is that they obviously think that other cars will move faster when stuck in trafic if they hunk… SO they all do – and make so much noice and the other cars still stand still in the crazy traffic.. Funny in some strange way!

I was so glad when SImrat’s dad Bakinder came to pick us up in Chandigarh today.. His car was very comfortable, smelled so nice and he drove like a dream! I think I only heard the horn once – and it was definitly justified!

Let’s see where traffic takes me the nextt couple of days.. We are in a very nice city now, where Simrat can drive in her mother’s car. It is really nice, because those taxi drivers makes me slightly nervous in my not very nervous self..
7 people and a taxi driver
We got to Agra around 10 am Sunday morning. We got into a cab (normal size car) and went to Taj Mahal. That is a whole lot of people tpo stuff imnto a car, I agree, but it made the trip charming in some way! It took some time for Simrat’s mother to negotiate the price we wanted and she had to negotiate many times after that – all day!

We went to see the Taj Mahal, walked up thjis LONG road to see this LONG line of people, young and old, men and women, and I thought: OH MY GOD! But, there was nothing to worry about, cos we were just girls.. They have their own line! Can you imagine that happening in Denmark? We got in really quickly….But then… as I always do my best to avoid any tourist sharks, Upinder went straight for them.. She said we needed good pictures to take home to the men in the family.. So she negotiated again. We needed this guy to take them and he took pictures of us (rigtig opstillede!!! Ved ikke hvad det hedder paa engelsk) and managed to make hard-copies of them before we left..

It was time to go! We went to find the taxidriver and sat there again on top of eachother.. This time we were not just going around the corner! We drove for nearly 50 minutes (if not longer) to this beautiful place.. However, the trip through dirt and dust, bumbs on the roads, men looking in the window – was not for beginners! It was interesting as h… I loved it so much! Sitting there, protected in the car behind the window, looking out on Indian life. We drove through a small town where they were selling all sorts of things on the streets, kids were playing, men were getting shaved – all this activity on a sundat afternoon..

We got to the place that I forgot what was called. It was four palaces made for this man’s four wifes, one from each religion (hindu, muslim, christian and buddhist). It was amazing! The funny thing about this was that the first palace was quite small and the last palace was HUGE! EVen though the man actually married all four in order to show that the religions were equally important.. HMMM! 🙂 Im very bad at reciting the story, I know, but it was something like that..:)

Att this point I was exhausted! Felt like lying down on the street and just take five minutes, but that was not in the plan.. SO we went to see a holy something, made a wish that I will never tell and went all the way back in the car – the same 50 minute drive we came from! I can tell you one thing: with a taxi going fast and in and out between cars, busses, bicyckles and cattle, it is very difficult to sleep! And if you do.. You neck hurts A LOT when you wake up! But my eyes could not stay open any longer, so I took a quite uncomfortable nap..
Indian hospitality
My first meeting with India already started in the airport when I was gettting my passport checked.. I was a little scared as I had forgotten to bring Simrat’s address and I needed it for the arrival form.. But the passport guy was so nice.. He asked me whether this was my first time in India and wished me the best of luck and a very good trip.. I smiled my way to the exit and met Simrat and Upinder in the door wawing their arms off!

We got to Simrat’s aunt’s place around 4.30 am and we were to leave at 6 to get the train to Agra. The house was full of people sleeping everywhere because Simrat’s three cousins and their mum were there too.

It was so nice of them to just open their home everybody! We had a hot chocolate and left shortly after.. When we got back home from our trip, even more cousins had arrived and we were now five girls, two mothers, two boys and the couple (aunty and uncle)… But it was great to experience how a family always has room!! 🙂
First experience – Flying Aeroflot
First strange experience was the flight to India.. Or already on the plane to Moscow, I realised that Russians speak Russian even when they try tp speak English. Can you imagine hearing the wierd noices in the loudspeaker wondering when they will start saying it in ENglish – and they already have? Well – thats life, so I decided to stop listening and hope that everything would be fine.

During the flight to Moscow I had three seats to myself, so a Danish guy decided to move up and sit in the aile seat.. Guess what he did for a living… He was a professional computer player.. His JOB was to play computer games! And his team is the best in the world at the moment, so they make around 50000 dollars when they win a tournament.. Not bad!

Well, after a while the loudspeaker started making noices and none of us understood anything it was saying, exept – delay – hmmmmmmm. I had around 40 minutes in the airport before boarding to my next flight… I didn’t have a watch either.. Well.. I managed to get to the transit stand just as the next plane was starting to board.. HOWEVER, this does not mean that I had made it through to the gate..

I was in a LONG line to the checkpoint where they ask you to do all the security checks you have already done in another airport. This meant that we (me and the other passengers to Delhi) had to push ourselves through this mass of people, take off our shoes, jacket, belt and everything, rund through the check-thing, out on our clothes and RUN to the gate where they were almost leaving! WHAT SECURITY FREAKS!!!

We made it and the rest of the trip was alright. A woman came to sit next to me because her neighbour was drunk, but otherwise Russian passengers behave just like the rest of us.. more or less..