7.9.11. 7:00 P.M. Day 8. Are We Lost Yet?

I can't tell if I woke up on my own this morning or if it was because Pop called me at 7 in the AM. I went to sleep pretty late because Mary and I stayed up talking to our other homestay buddies Matt and Rayleen until 1AM about our different experiences this week. From what they said, their schedule was pretty full so they weren't able to do any exploring, and some of their doctors didn't make it easy for them. Weird thing - they both got sick the same day I did. It appears that our week was pretty much awesome and hard to beat. I can't help but feel that these next two weeks are going to be tougher for us mentally and emotionally.

9:40 PM.

So yes, Pop called and said, "Hey, your wayward brother wants to talk to you." and then he put Paul on the line. That was fun, I talked to him while I went up to the rooftop terrace since I didn't want to wake anybody. It was sprinkling  out but it felt nice. Paul asked me if I'd done anything "cool" yet and I couldn't help but be a bit baffled. To me, just being in India was the most amazing thing I'd ever done, but really being in the Ganges was, so that's what I told him. I don't know if he knew how big of a deal that was for me or cared that it is probably considered the most holy river in the world. But he tried and that's enough for me. After the phone call I went to lacy back down until the other girls got up. When they did, we had a yummy breakfast waiting for us at the table.

We decided that today we were going to go to an internet cafe and then go shopping. We managed to get completely ready to go before Mayank came. And alas, I had to stay behind because he and I had a previous arrangement today (just not what time), so the girls went for a walk without me. But they promised to come back in time for lunch and after we would go shopping. And that's exactly what happened. They came back, we ate, and then went out to go shopping.

Rayleen is the only one of us who has had experience with the city, and even then it was limited. We stood on the edge of the street and soon an auto rickshaw came and pulled over to us. Rayleen told him "Clocktower" and he nodded so we assumed he knew where to go. The experience was fun, we 3 were crammed in the back of a vehicle i could only describe as a 3 wheeled, yellowish golf cart, but narrower, and with a bicycle handle bar instead of a steering wheel.

I must question whether there is any kind of smog regulation because some of the vehicles on the road were just spewing the blackest smoke from their tailpipes. After about 10 or so minutes the guy dropped us off by the Clocktower. it was supposed to cost 60 rps. but Mary accidentally  talked the driver down to 40. Mostly, this happened because she was asking  for change for the 100 rp. bill she had out. I had 20, Rayleen had 20, he took it and went on his way with Mary's hand still clenching the 100 in the air. I guess something was lost in translation. This  little victory was soon overshadowed by the shear  magnitude of being at the downtown, Clocktower area on a Saturday afternoon. I think half of the city  was there and between zooming cars and swarming people, we had to navigate our way to a place we didn't know where to start looking for. We were told by Aunty that a shop called Fab India would be a great place for us to shop for clothes. With this one place in mind, our eyes scoured over the many thousands of shop signs and advertisements clustered together along tops of buildings, and that was even before we hit the bazaar. I was a shop on the other side of the road from where we were dropped off. It had a great window display that caught my eye - it had its most vibrant and shiny saris out on manikins. I pointed it out to the girls and we mustered up our courage, said silent prayers, and for the first time - crossed the road. Why did Arlette cross the road? To get to the sari shop. We crossed unscathed and went inside. Immediately it became apparent that none of us knew what to do, but since  I was the only one actually looking to buy a sari the pressure was on me to do the talking. I don't know why sari shops are always run by men, but there they were - two old men sitting behind a desk watching us silently as we came in. I just stood there for a few minutes, the girls went to the kurtis and began to look through them. Just to look busy I followed and did the same. I knew I had to eventually turn back around to face the old men. It appeared that they kept the one thing I wanted lined on the wall behind them, folded up in bags, neatly stacked on floor to roof shelves. I turned around and said hello. The first one of the two that replied was the one I went towards. Long story short, I got myself a sari. I have absolutely no idea how to tie the 15 feet of fabric into something that makes sense. But I have one. This one item wiped me out of all of the cash I had with me, and like a true idiot I forgot my card at the house so I couldn't  take any more out. Basically I was done shopping for the day after just one shop. My gleefulness soon faded after we ventured back outside and into the bustling bazaar in the heavy midday heat.

 After a short time I wanted to head back. There was no reason for me to be there. Negative Nancy, I know, but the heat got to me and so did the ever lingering fact that the sun easily  darkens my skin and my tan hasn't been this bad since my high school days. Since my pockets were empty, and Rayleen hadn't been out all week, on top of Mary's  compulsion to explore, I had no choice but to continue one. They didn't buy anything there, just walked around. Eventually my complaining weakened then and we went to a coffee shop not too far away named Barista. Mary spotted me for my Lemon Iced Tea. I'd been craving ice, of all things, since the moment I got to India. And it was the one thing I thought I would never get to have. Where would somebody freeze filtered water? Here. To top off the awesome ice-wieldingness of this place, they also had air conditioning! I didn't know what to do with myself - I didn't want to leave. There was a bookstore connected to the coffee shop so once we were done with the drinks we went to look at some books.

After the bookstore, the girls wanted to continue walking but I wanted to find an internet cafe. We found one close to where we were so I went in for about an hour while they went for a walk. I was finally able to update the blog, but the typing was slow and cumbersome due to most of the keys sticking and the fact that I wrote really small in the journal so I often lost my place. By the end of 45 minutes I finished the first entry, and as the second was even longer, I decided to leave it there for the day. With my spirits significantly raised I went back outside and found the girls on their way back. We decided to make our way back toward the house so we stood on the side of the road until an A. Rick pulled up. Rayleen told the driver where we wanted to go a few times, but when he continued to not know what we were talking about - we waved him off. Right after he left another one pulled up and she tried again. This guy was more responsive, again not sure what we wanted but still seemed like he got the general idea of what we wanted. We squished into the backseat and he began to zoom off. Mary, after we passed the Clocktower, said that this was not the way we had come. All of the streets looked the same to me so I was practically useless. Rayleen took out from her bag the giant Lonely Planet guide to India and opened it up to the map of Dehra Dun. She tapped the driver on the shoulder and tried to show him the map...while he was driving. Considering where we were, I thought taking the driver's eyes off the road was a very dumb idea, but luckily he seemed to think the same because he pulled over. She tried to point on the map where we wanted to go. He got out and walked across the road to somewhere we couldn't see. I hoped it was to find a translator but....probably not. I took this  opportunity to take a few pictures of the driver seat and of us sitting in one of these. The driver came back after a few minutes and repeated something and we were on our way. Another few minutes pass by and our driver pulls into a gas station. He puts the A. Rick in park and slowly releases the brake. We begin to roll back. He presses it and again releases it. Roll back. He does this a few more times until he just gets out. The A. Rick continues to inch back until it comes to an uneasy stop. We maybe moved about 6 inches but it felt like further. We made no sudden movements, not wanting to anger the finicky brakebeast. Eventually, I made an executive decision and took out my phone to call Mayank so that he could talk to the driver. As I explained our situation to him, Mary got our driver's attention and when he came over I gave him the phone. They spoke for a little over a minute before the guy handed back the phone. With a renewed sense of faith in our driver's ability to get us home we set off. He took us  through a labyrinth of alleyways: left, left, right, left, right, right, stop. We weren't there. Without even looking back at us, he tapped his ear a few times...I got Mayank back on the phone again and just said, "one more time," before I handed the guy the phone. Again they spoke briefly and by what I could make out from the bits and pieces I understood - we were close. They hung up and the driver made some sort of hand gesture to the phone. I raised my eyebrows in surprise at that and he just made a comment about the phone. I thought it was toward Mayank, but he covered the gesture quickly so I'm not too sure about that. He tool the first right, went straight passed two alleyway intersections and we saw our home sweet homestay. We thanked the driver profusely  and then asked him how much the fare was. He said, "As you wish." We repeated the question and he said, "What you think." We weren't sure what to do with this. We later figured that he made the price up to us since he got us lost. But we never blamed him as it was we who  couldn't correctly say where we wanted to go. We were just happy  that we got home and that he didn't get so frustrated that he would just dump us somewhere for an easier fare. In the end we figured to give him more. The first guy said 60 rsp. so we gave this one 100 rps.  Probably a lot, but we felt he deserved it because we didn't make his job easy. We went inside, said hello to Aunty and went to lay down for awhile. What a day.