Don't know if it's an instinct or some more complex response, but as soon as I put down my overweight suitcases I found myself down on my knees scrubbing the bath tub. I hate cleaning, especially the bathroom, but here I was, proving the powers of the miracle cleaners that apparently have not been opened since... ok, I won't go there.

Сходила на обязательную экскурсию в Таржэй, у нас оказывается даже не было рабочего пылесоса... Отделалась легким ушербом. Так жэ посетила neighborhood TJ's (а как же без этого!) Я, как обычно, в радиусе пол-мили от любимого продуктового магазина (Wholefoods ближе, но paycheck еще не whole). Не смотря на слухи, в TJ's таки да продают вина, но знаменитый Two-buck Chuck стоит $2.99.

Сделала первую вылазку в город на машине; пришлось подключить ХПС, но зато из аэропорта доехала самостоятельно! Алик раньше всё время терялся, но наверно потому, что я его отвлекала :)

А теперь о погоде, вернее о холоде. Пока не кусает, но в штанах и под-штанниках уже не тепло. Я чесно говоря теряюсь... В 2-х парах подштанников я врядли влезу в какие либо брюки... Что в данном случае делают проживающие в холодных краях женьшины?

Вообше то сегодня даже можно сказать хорошо было - около нуля и солнечно. С утра выпал снег, так что еше и красиво.

In India Karma was good to me, allowing me an uneventful trip and a safe return, but as soon as I returned – it turns away from me... Was it taken away by the National Security Administration at customs, or did it slip out from the broken zipper on the newly-purchased suitcase? Did it expire, like an Indian SIM card? Or did I use up all my credit? What if it's only valid in India? That wouldn't be good...

In fact, it hasn't been good. First, there was glass all over the car; and the window was missing. But they only took a roll of quarters, about $10. Crack heads! Now, I have to rely on BART and the kindness of others to get around for the few precious days I'm in SF.

Then, my eye turns red! I will assume it's a punishment for having a Bad Optometrist (ask m,e if you want references). A Bad Optometrist is someone who cannot id an eye infection in it's early stages, so that it turns into a Red Eye. A BAd Optometrist will follow manufacturer's reccomendations, instead of FDA suggested use guidelines. He/she will give incomplete instructions for use and storage of contact lenses, and never once in over two years check UNDER the lid for vital signs.  And FINALLY and most importenly – a Bad Optometrist is someone, who doesn’t response to his/her EMERGENCY contact number! It’s been 9 ½ hours and I’m still waiting…

Obviously it's OVER b/w us! I wonder what Karma awaits the Bad Optometrist?

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It seems that every house has a roof-top restaurant, and it takes a steep climb to reach one, so even if you didn't think you were hungry going in, it will catch up to you by the time you reach the top. Since it gets chilly here at night, everyone is sitting around huddled in blankets, compliments of the restaurant for the lack of walls. 

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On one of the nights here I saw a dance performance, but ended up writing in my diary instead, because it was a bit disturbing. First there was a woman dancing with a pot of fire on her head - that was neat. Then two fat ugly ladies were "playing with" the bells attached all over their bodies - that was wired. Then one of the fat ugly ladies started dancing with a pot on her head and kneeling and picking up things from the floor with her mouth, spread almost flat on the ground. That's when it got pornographically disturbing. Consequently, there were nine pots piled on top of her head, but the image from before would persist in my head.

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Seeing how many tailor shops there are here, some "think about the future" neuron began firing away in my head and the next day, before breakfast I went in to get my measurements. That evening I was already standing in front of the mirror in my brand new future-thinking tailored business suit. 

 

On this day I also got a massage, solely by hands this time, which left not an inch (ok, may be a few inches) untouched and my hair completely covered in oil (which would've been appropriate in the south, where covering your hair with coconut oil is a sign of good hygiene, but here in the north I wouldn't fit in with an oily head so well (and that'd be the only thing)). After the massage and before the final suit fitting I squeezed in another cooking class, to more knowingly compare and contrast the food of the north and the south. To tell you the truth, I wholly enjoy food here in the north, but the "homey" food we made in the class was a little blahhh. May be because I was in the class with two american couples (some of the very few americans I met here), who preempted the class by saying "Hm, we're americans, and therefore cannot tolerate your water, so if you please...) They also asked me how come my jewish grand father got to be an officer in the imperial army during WWII... I should mention that all four of them were retired teachers.

From Udaipur I took a sleeper bus to Jodhpur. A sleeper bus has beds/cots, like on the train. Well, it worked out perfectly fine when I took one in the south, but here in Rajasthan the temps drop below 10 C at night. Suspecting this I took preemptive action and bought a thick wool shawl to use as a blanket (and wore a warm jacket and a hat), but the cold air was coming in from every crack in the windows and one would need a wind-proof 900 down for a chance of being warm. After this frigid night, I didn't fight with the rickshaw driver when at 5 am he took me to warm and comfortable guest house with a hot shower instead of the one I asked him to take me to. Apparently, they were already waiting for me there on a signal from the guest house I stayed in in Udaipur (all India is a one big extended family).

Don't know if I'm grumpy from the lack of sleep, but I'm finding Jodhpur beyond my comfort threshold. It's too dirty, too stinky, too many people peeing on the street, too many cows eating stinky garbage. For the first time here I had to fight for the spot in line in front of the train reservation window, twice. First, the persistent old indian dude, but the whole line was fight him and couldn't gain the upper hand, and then an indian girl/woman, who cut the line, the way girls/women always do here (myself including), but not in front of another! And after all this, there were no 2nd (that's the highest available), or even third class seats available and I had to get a sleeper. I don't really know what it means, but it's three times cheaper then then 3rd class, and needless to say, I'm not looking forward to it all that much.

So, all of it drove me to a fancy hotel for lunch, where I dined at a cloth lined table overlooking peaceful fountains, under a watchful eye of turbaned waiters. So I dropped almost two night's worth of lodging there - a whopping $15!