whoa

Ok, so I can't get to bed yet so I'll share this as it seemed to make quite a stir when I posted it as my status on facebook.

If I have an infinitely long sheet of paper and on the left side I start listing all of the natural numbers (positive integers: 1, 2, 3... etc) and then on the right side I write down all of the positive even numbers (2, 4, 6... etc). Which column will have more numbers?

I was listening to the show Uncommon Knowledge on my favorite NPR station (WGLT) when they were discussing this. It's not often that I get my mind blown but I'll say this was one time (another when I was a little kid and realised that what I see as green might be what you see as purple or grey and there's no way for us to compare). I highly recommend that if you're ever in Illinois in the Bloomington-Normal area you change your dial over to 89.1 FM for some great jazz and NPR programming during the week and blues (and Car Talk!) on the weekends.

Fond Memories...

Recently, I was reminiscing about camp and that got me thinking about all the things I like about it. The warmth, the staff, the kids, the games, meeting the international staff. Most of all, though, I think my favorite thing about camp is the skits and songs at the campfire. There's something about watching people getting up there and either giving a beautiful performance or making a complete ass of themselves and then getting up and doing the very thing yourself.

Camp friends are great.

A veteran campfire leader.
(And incidentally, the man coming to visit in a few days.)

Another veteran leader.

I love getting up there and making a fool of myself.

Perhaps in the future I'll post some of my favorite skits and songs.

Considering how late it now (I keep going to bed later and later) I'll just give two poems that I have heard recited often at campfires. The first is "The Cremation of Sam McGee" by Robert W. Service. As you read through it you really get an eerie feeling about you. Now, picture an older man with a gruff voice reciting it from memory in front of a crackling fire as the stars flicker overhead. Granted, it might be better suited for a Klondike Derby but the effect is striking.

The second is Rudyard Kipling's "If." It has to be my favorite poem. I started reciting for the scouts at the closing campfire to sort of give them something to think about as they go back home.


The Cremation of Sam McGee
by Robert W. Service

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way that he'd "sooner live in hell".

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see;
It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, "I'll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request."

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
"It's the cursed cold, and it's got right hold till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet 'tain't being dead — it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains."

A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: "You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it's up to you to cremate those last remains."

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows — O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the "Alice May".
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then "Here", said I, with a sudden cry, "is my cre-ma-tor-eum."

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared — such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside.
I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked";. . . then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: "Please close that door.
It's fine in here, but I greatly fear you'll let in the cold and storm —
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

If

by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

Now just imagine a guy going out to sing camp songs with an accordion. Gosh... I really need to practice that thing.

On a side note: Dad has finally gotten everything together for a trip out here. I'll be going down to Delhi to pick him up on Saturday. I've organised a trip to see Rajaji National Park, Amritsar, and Dharamsala (home of the Tibetan Government in Exile). I'll be gone for a week but you can expect to see Winter Break Part 5 when I get back.

Winter Break Part 4: You're not going to get a roast beef on sourdough or a pastrami on rye in this Delhi

The train trip to Jaipur was relatively uneventful. We got in to Delhi around 11 and promptly found a taxi to take us to our hotel. Considering our first night in Delhi a few nights ago Kathryn decided that she wasn't about to put up with that for two more nights and changed reservations. To be honest, I was grateful. Sure, shady hotels with dodgy clerks and whatnot is all part of the excitement of traveling to strange lands and all that jazz but I really wouldn't have said no to a real mattress and a down-filled duvet. And wouldn't you know it, that's exactly what I got. We went down to the Nehru Place part of Delhi and stayed at the Intercontinental. Now, when I first arrived in India Woodstock put me up in the Centaur Hotel not far from the airport. Supposedly it's a five star hotel. It's nice enough but the fountains are dried up, the elevators are shaky (they ones that run), and half of it is partitioned off for 'construction' that's been going on for years. If that's a five star, then the one we stayed at was easily ten or fifteen. I must say, it was nice to be pampered.

Well, there wasn't much to do when we got there besides shower and go to bed. The next morning we booked a taxi for the day and went to a few different places.

First up was the Bahai Temple, more commonly known as the Lotus Temple because of its shape. Its a very beautiful place to see and you can hardly believe you're in the middle of Delhi except for a few run down buildings that peek out between the trees. You get a brief introduction before you're allowed to enter. They tell you that it is a holy place for any who wish to come and meditate. They ask for complete silence and no photography as you enter. It's kind of entertaining to watch families with small children get ushered straight through. I think I actually saw more adults talking than little kids. If you're planning on going and doing a little meditation might I recommend a small cushion? All of the benches are stone and not the most comfortable places to rest your butt.



Afterward we headed over to Humayan's Tomb. From the pictures below you'll be able to easily see how it was used as an inspiration for the Taj Mahal. Also pictured is another smaller tomb on the same grounds along with a mosque.

Humayan's Tomb

The mosque.

The smaller tomb.

To round things out for the morning we went to the India Gate. The structure was erected as a memorial to the men who served in The Great War (WWI). Click on the last picture to enlarge it and you'll see some of the names.




Finally, we went to Jantar Mantar, an old observatory built by Raja Sawai Jai Singh of Rajasthan. He built a total of five such observatories. Honestly, when you first come in you feel like you stepped into either a weird art sculpture garden or a playground. Anymore, I suppose you could consider it to be either.

Remember that odd looking structure from my last post at the Wind Temple in Jaipur? Does this one look similar? Turns out they're both gigantic sundials.

I'm not sure what this one does.

All of this, of course, had taken place on New Year's Eve. If you haven't noticed already, this trip was not the most planned of expeditions. That said, when we got back to the hotel that afternoon we figured we should probably figure out what we were going to do for the night. After chatting with the front desk we decided to just stay at the hotel as they promised a rocking party with a DJ at the bar. Well, around 10.30 or so we headed down to the bar got ourselves some drinks and snacks (prawns to die for) and proceeded to watch the other 18 people sit and eat as well. The DJ started playing some Hindi songs and from my seat I started doing a few dance moves I picked up at last year's staff talent show. The hotel staff particularly enjoyed when I started dancing with the song Bachna ae Haseeno, a catchy tune but it's no Benny Lava. It wasn't until about 11.50 or so that we went out on the dance floor. Kathryn and I ended up dancing with a few older Indian couples (one man ended up dropping his drink three times) and a bunch of Germans. Some of the staff came out and joined us and we danced until 1 or so. The Germans invited us back to their room to continue celebrating but when we went back to our own to freshen up first we crashed.

Good thing too. We got up early the next morning to do a bit more site seeing. First up was the Qutb Minar. The site contains a gigantic minaret, which also happens to be the tallest stone structure in India. There are other structures around the site as well.

We weren't the only interested visitors exploring the ruins.

This was the beginnings of another minaret that was to be as large, if not larger than the one already constructed. Unfortunately, it didn't get beyond the very beginning stages.

This is the Iron Pillar of Delhi (clever no?). It piqued my interests as a chemist as it is of almost pure iron and has stood exposed to the elements for over 1500 years with very little oxidation. Scientists are baffled as to how such purity was attained so long ago. There's also a folk legend that says that if one can stand with their back to the pillar and wrap their arms around it, then their wish will be granted. Unfortunately a fence now stands around it.

After some time there we went to yet another tomb. I tell ya, those Mughal emperors sure liked to build tombs with style. I think only the pyramids of Egypt can rival these as the ultimate final resting place. Honestly though, I couldn't tell you whose tomb this is. By this time we were tombed out and really just ran though the motions.





That afternoon Kathryn and I made a trip to the Red Fort. I didn't take any pictures there because, honestly a lot of it looked like stuff we had seen before. Probably the most interesting part was getting there. Our taxi stopped part way and we took a bicycle rickshaw in the remainder. Even then we only got so far. We used the subway (just a walk way underground, no trains) to get to the other side. We had to hop a stream of smelling, flowing, brown gunk that I'm really afraid to ask what was in it. Dodging post card sellers and 'certified' tour guides we got tickets and toured the fort. There was an immensely popular weaponry exhibit but that was the most exciting part that we got to see. I have the feeling that we really didn't get to see a whole lot of the fort. The place was huge and we only spent a maximum of two hours exploring. There were a few obviously colonial buildings that we didn't even get close to.

We retired to the hotel early that evening and prepared for our respective trips home. Early the next morning I caught my train and headed back up to Dehradun. I only arrived two hours late and missed my taxi. (Apparently I made out better than Kathryn though. She had a weather delay in Delhi that caused her to spend the night in Munich, miss her flight in Frankfort and not get home until the 6th (we left on the 2nd) and she lost her bags.) Luckily there's a taxi stand nearby so I got a cab and headed home. The first thing I did was to take a deep breath of the clean mountain air.

A few days later as I was walking home I saw this site of the valley below. The sprawling metropolis of Dehradun was overtaken. It literally looked like an ocean down there.

It's good to be back home.

I like the colours in this one better.

On a good note, Dad finally committed to coming out here. He's gotten a passport and is going to get a visa in Chicago on Monday. Hopefully, he'll be here within a week or so. I can't wait to go see the Taj again!

Winter Break Part 3: Jaipur, the City of Forts and a Lot of Kites

We checked out of our hotel in Agra in the mid-morning. As I climbed into the taxi that was to take us to Jaipur I reflected on the day before and how I really wasn't going to be missing Agra very much. We had a fun time for sure but it really grated on my nerves (in case my last post wasn't obvious enough). The day before I had asked our guide how long it would take to get to Jaipur. "Three and a half, four hours," he replied after consulting the driver. Knowing this was going to be a relatively uneventful and easy journey I snuggled into the backseat and prepared to watch the fields go by as we traversed the plains.





Six hours later we reached Jaipur...


Our hotel here was the Jaipur Inn. I would highly recommend it. Especially if you're traveling on a budget. Our room had it's own personal staircase going down to the dining room, comfy beds, hot water, a terrace that we shared with a few other rooms, and a flat screen tv. They have a lot of rooms of varying accommodations. Heck, if you wanted to they would even let you camp out on their lawn. There's a restaurant down on the first floor and a rooftop dining area with a pretty decent view of the city.

The Room.

I really wanted to descend these stairs in the morning like Eliza Doolittle and say, 'How do you do?' to all of the other patrons. Of course I would still be wearing my boxers and a t-shirt. Doubly of course, I did not do this.

View of one of the forts from the rooftop. I'll be damned if I could tell you which one it is though.

I sat and watched Charlie Brown here for at least half an hour as he flew his kite. As you look out across the skyline of Jaipur you keep seeing large birds. Then, you realise the birds are rather stationary and considering that hummingbirds are about the only ones that can do that and then considering the distance (assuming you have decent depth perception) that if indeed these are (humming)birds they would have to be enormous. One then has to come to one of two conclusions. Either A) daikaiju are attacking Jaipur in great numbers and the appearance of a giant irradiated dragon is inevitable or B) there is a lot of people flying kites in this city.

Seriously, kites were everywhere. This one reminded me of brother Chunk's entry for the KFI safety calender. (OK, so I probably shouldn't put family inside jokes up on the blog. Dad, if you find a copy of the calendar scan in the proper picture and I'll post it up here.)

In keeping with the Charlie Brown theme there was even Jaipur's very own Kite-Eating Tree.

The city of Jaipur.

I will never complain again when dad asks me to mow the lawn. At least I don't have to mow the roof like this guy. He's on the third floor.

Sunset over Jaipur.

India is truly a unique blend of old and new. One can go anywhere and look in one direction and see ancient buildings and temples and then right behind them have skyscrapers. Here is just another example in terms of transportation. I tried getting it with a bike and an autorickshaw in the picture as well but my camera wouldn't focus fast enough.

Since we got in so late on the first day we decided to just relax at the hotel and take a breather. The next morning we were ready to go. We stepped outside and were immediately swarmed by autorickshaw drivers who wanted our business. Eventually it was Gopi who won our affections. We hired him for the day and had a very interesting time. When one goes to Rajasthan there is really only a few reasons. Number one though, has to be the forts. The place is crawling with them. There are at least three in the vicinity of Jaipur. Our first stop, therefore, was going to be the Amber Fort. There's not a lot to really say about it so I'll let the pictures do most of the talking.

Riding in the rickshaw.

Approaching the forts.
I think these are of the Amber Fort and Jaigarh Fort (the one with the big tower).

Gopi and I posing in front of the Amber Fort. Kathryn took a similar picture with him. Only I think in that one he was actually smiling and was probably a good three feet closer to her.

An old sentry keeps watch.
(One of these guys charged me later on in the day.)

Amber.

We were going to take an elephant ride up to the fort since I had never done one. However, by about 10.30 they stopped doing rides for whatever reason.

This is the Water Palace. Apparently this is where the king would take one of his wives when they wanted some 'private time.' You can only access the palace by boat.

After the fort we headed in to the heart of the city and visited the royal palace. Again, I'll the pictures talk.

Gopi even let Kathryn drive the rickshaw down a dead street. Personally, I think it was more of an excuse to get his arm around her.

Really, what says, 'India,' to you more than a Christmas tree and a creepy Santa?

Jaipur really had an unhealthy obsession with weapons. I think every place we went to had some sort of arms exhibit.

If I recall correctly two of these huge silver jugs were made and carried water from the Ganges to England for the coronation or something. Of course I could be making all of this up.

The remainder of the day was relatively uneventful. We allowed Gopi to take us to a few emporiums. It's not so bad to get to see how things get made but after seeing how a rug is made for the third time you get rather tired of it. It's also amusing how so many people claim to be the largest operation or even the only ones who can perform this craft. Ah well, if it earns you a buck.

The next morning was all about checking out temples. We first headed to the Wind Temple. After that we headed over to the Monkey Temple. It gets its name from the fact that every night at dusk the place becomes swarming with monkeys. Kathryn was terrified of the path up as it was littered with our distant cousins picking bugs out of each other's hair and running around in general. When we finally got up to the temple she refused to take off her shoes to go inside for fear of hepatitis or something of that ilk. I braved the temple alone and came back with nothing more than dirty socks. You know what they say though, "Black socks. They never get dirty. The longer you wear them the dirtier they get." I was wearing white socks...

That afternoon we checked out Albert Hall, the local museum. It was a relatively forgetable museum filled mainly with copies of pieces from other museums. Probably the biggest thing that sticks out in my mind was their collection of miniature sculptures. They were of men in various yoga positions. The only odd thing was the fact that whenever the sculpture permitted the artist daintily painted in some pubic hairs poking out of the loincloth. I'd show you pictures to prove I'm not lying but then what would you think of me if I was posting pictures of THAT? Do I even dare to ask what you think of me now? Anywho, on to the pictures.

The Wind Temple.

There were even kites in the Wind Temple.

See that weird triangle-like building in the background? At first I had no idea what it was either. Have patience and all will soon be revealed.

At the Monkey Temple.

The path up.

Albert Hall exterior.
I'd be ashamed to show any pictures from the inside.

After a quick lunch we boarded our train to take us in to Delhi. I tell you, by this time I was really getting tired of train food. Think airline food and then take the 'Quality' knob and turn it down a few notches. After a few hours we arrived back in the bustling metropolis that is Delhi. I'll get to that next time.