I had planned to write an extensive blog about our last stop in Cambodia, Siem Riep. This is where the temples of Ankor are, and where we spent almost a week visiting them.
However, the monsoon hit Delhi when we came back, and it has rained non-stop...and this while preparations for the Commonwealth games were going on. The papers were full of events and I have been too absorbed to think about Cambodia.

So...this is Roos in the Ankor Wat. The Ankor Wat, like the other temples of Ankor, are fantastic.
We visited all the highlights (Ankor Wat, Ankor Thom, The Roulos Group and -not to be missed!- the Banteay Srey in the north. We visited a silk farm where they make Ankor Silk, the Landmine museum and the Floating Villages on the Tonle Sap lake. We ate, we drank and we concluded our visit to Cambodia in The Foreign Correspondent's Club in Phnom Penh, right on the shore of the Mekong river. It was great, it was something I would not have wanted to miss!

This is the most exiting thing to see in Kep...the statue of the naked wife of a fisherman.

They covered her with curtains (slightly transparant, to keep the tourists interested) and she stares out over the sea, waiting for her husband to return.
His boat shouldn't be hard to miss (if he even comes close to her size)...T seems to be fascinated.

And that is actually all there is to see in Kep.
The famous crab market of Kep turned out to be a crap market...T got up early to check out the market but saw only little food stalls promising to cook the crab...but no crab in sight!And even with his imagination, empty food stalls weren't quite "it".
So we happily stayed in our hotel (the only worthwhile thing around...lovely rooms, gorgious swimming pool, private bakery and free wifi) and enjoyed sleeping late, much to the demise of Roos and Niek who were bored stiff. But then it was on to Siem Riep and the Ankor.....

...to be continued.....

This is Niek with a Tarantula in Cambodia.
We spent our summer holiday there...what a fantastic place to go!

Cambodia is truly a revelation; the country has been devastated by civil war and of course the atrocities of the Red Khmer, but it seems everyone is making an effort to overcome history and rebuild te country. We think that in 10 years time Cambodia will not be a third world country anymore.

We started in Phnom Penh, after a stopover in Bangkok (always good for some shopping). Phnom Penh in not a very exciting city compared to buzzling Bangkok, but it has a very nice relaxed "french" feel to it, and the streets are clean, the air is fresh en there is good food to be found. We visited the National Museum which has a small but beautiful collection of mainly old sculptures, and gives a good overview of Khmer history. We went to the Royal Palace to visit the Silver Pagoda. And we went to the Tuol Sleng Museum, the old school that was used for interrogations during Pol Pot's terror bend. Chilling, but not to be missed.

Another thing not to be missed in Phnom Penh is a visit to Romdeng, a Khmer restaurant run by the Friends Organisation. In this restaurant, housed in a lovely old villa, young people are trained for the hospitality service. They all are wearing t-shirts saying "student" or "teacher"...the restaurant itself serves traditional delicious Khmer food like fried Tarantula and soup with Morning Glory. The restaurant now has its own award-winning cook-book called "from Spiders to Water-lilies"...I have cooked several recepies from it so far, and they all are delicious.
Been there, bought the book!

...to be continued....

Does "fate" really exist?
Also called "destiny", or "karma", or "joss".....does it exist?

Is it true, as the Hindu's believe, that we have several lives and how we deal with this particular one (and our "fate") determines the level of our next life?

Is it true that we choose what "lesson" we will try to learn in this particular life (showing itself to us as our "fate"), just before we reïncarnate?

Is it true that we choose the life to learn that lesson in, even if it means being born in a slum like this? Meaning there is a good chance that we will die of malnutrition or disease before we are ten? Or that we will end up picking trough other people's trash for a living? Or that we are beaten up and electrocuted because it was our "fate" to fall in love with someone from another caste?

And is it true that MY "fate" was to come here and sit in my car, and then being approached by a lady with a kid on her shoulder, tapping my window and waving what looked like a prescription at me and no doubt telling me that the kid is sick and needs medicines and I should pay for it? And that the only thing I can think at that moment is that it was probably given to her when she was unloaded from the truck that delivers her every morning to the crossing where she begs? And that the kid maybe isn't hers to begin with?

Is it my karma to witness all this misery and to know I am powerless to change it? That I could start somewhere and never stop and as soon as I turn my back things will go back to what they have always been because the one thing I was not able to change was the mentality of the people? And that because I know this I have chosen NOT to start charity work but I try to take care of those that work for me, so that at least they, and their children, have a chance?

And despite this I always feel my stomach turning upside-down when I have to waive someone off, because deep down I have the feeling that no-none should be forced to live like this? And that I cannot imagine that the people here accept their situation as their "fate" because I would not? Because I was raised by parents who made me believe that it is your right to try to improve your situation?

And in the end.....what if the kid was really hers and it was really ill and I could have made the difference between life and death.....and I didn't?

Dust is in the air
Everywhere I look around
Dust is in the air
Every sight and every sound

And I don't know if I'm being foolish
Don't know if I'm being wise
But it's something that I must believe in
Cause it's there when I feel the itch in my eyes

Dust is in the air
In the whisper of the trees
Dust is in the air
In the thunder of the sea

And I don't know if I'm just dreaming
Don't know if I feel sane
But it's something that I must believe in
Cause it's there when I sneeze out my name

(Chorus)
Dust is in the air
Dust is in the air
Oh oh oh
cough cough cough

Dust is in the air
Can't see the rising of the sun
Dust is in the air
Until the the day is nearly done

And I don't know if it's an illusion
Don't know if I see it true
But it's something that I must believe in
Because my nose is now itching too

Dust is in the air
Every sight and every sound
And I don't know if I'm being foolish
Don't know if I'm being wise
But it's something that I must believe in
Because it's causing an itch in my eyes
(Repeat Chorus 4X)

free interpretation of "LOVE IS IN THE AIR"  by John Paul Young

Recepy for Goan Mud-crab:
• buy a mud crab of app 1,2 kilo at the local fish market
• break it's claws off and chop them into pieces while the crab is still alive, and then slice it (still alive!) horizontally in two...
• then, if you haven't thrown up all over the kitchen, fry chopped onions, garlic and tomato in some coconut oil, add garam masala, chopped green chili and fresh curry leaves, end then add the chopped crab
• simmer for app 2 minutes and add a cup of coconut milk
• simmer a few minutes more, add fresh coriander and serve in a bowl with naan. Make sure you do NOT serve any cutlery as the crab definitely tastes better when eaten with your hands....according to local customs, that is. Do serve extra napkins. (And for those who wonder....that's me in the infinity pool, not the mud-crab).

Ok, so we are back from Goa....
We had a surprisingly good trip with Indigo Airlines, who claim to be "the punctual airline"...and indeed they were both ways! Which in India is a miracle in itself!

The hotel, the Alila Diwa Goa, was not as sereen as the Alila Manggis in Bali where we spent T's last birthday, but we had great a room with a fantastic bed and an even better bath-for-two....and after having a drink or two at the Edge bar (on the edge of the infinity pool, hence the name) during happy hour, we would come back to a room with the curtains drawn and the scented candles near the bathtub lit, the bath-salt invitingly placed on the little wooden tray that was placed strategically over the bath....well, what can one do but take a bath?

For the rest we did almost nothing. We spent our mornings swimming in the gorgious infinity pool, gazing at the palmtrees beyond, until at app. 11 a.m. the Indian families would show up, lazily strolling around, usually with dad in front, followed by mother and one or two kids, with grandmother clad in Sari at the end....all on slippers and all not raising their feet as they would walk. One wonders how they manage to keep their balance at that speed...

Some would actually take a swim and then would choose the corner right in front of our chairs (RIGHT in front!) to hold their social morning talks, preferrably with some screaming kids joining them (always with balls) and some nearby husband who would be screaming into his telephone....usually the sign for us to disappear to have lunch and then head to our room for an afternoon nap.

In the afternoon, after our naps, we would take a drink or two at the Edge bar during happy hour, then head back to take a bath in our gorgious bath tub, then have a wonderful dinner with slain mud-crab or something similarly delicious (and no doubt tortured equally) and then it would be time to sleep.....

Been there, done nothing, did not get the t-shirt but had a wonderful three lazy days!

We planned to go to Darjeeling to celebrate T's birthday and as a bonus escape Delhi's heat. We were going to leave on tuesday the 25th....

...but as fate would have it, on friday the 21st Madan Tamang, President of the Akhil Bharatiya Gorkha League, was killed in Darjeeling. This photograph is typical for Indian media....all the gruesome details are displayed for anyone who takes interest in them.

As a result the shops were kept closed and the government sent extra troups to the area to insure the peace in the hills.....the hills that we were planning to hike in! Not that it would have been much fun anyway, because it apparantly is raining in Darjeeling!

No mountain vieuws of the Himalayas, no trekking in the hills, no shopping, but the risk of being stuck in the hotel for 5 days and another rist of being stuck in Darjeeling alltogether because in India tempers are explosive....and once they expload a primitive force is released that you really do NOT want to get stuck in!

We could have gone, the hotel assured us things were peaceful and quiet...but in India, one never knows. Because in India life seems to be worth very little to so many.... you live, you die. It is as if death, or the fact that you will die one day, is so much part of every day life that it is not even given a second thought!

The son of the neighbour of our masseuse (yes...this is how in India relations go) was very ill, he had TB in his bones (!?!). He was on the verge of dying and his mother, a single mother who is very poor, could not afford a decent doctor. So our masseuse chipped in and in the end, so did we.
Because for us life IS worth something, and if our money helps save someone, even if it is for one more day, then it is money well spent. And at the same time, thank God not everyone in India who is very ill lives, or there would be 1,5 billion people, most of whom below poverty-line, instead of 1,2 billion.
But do I dare think this, or worse...say it? Because I am a lucky one, with fairly good health and money to pay for a decent doctor, instead of having to go to a government hospital where grossly underpaid doctord consider their lunch more important than their patients. After all, what's another life, if tehre are 1,2 billion others to care for?

Incredible India. Beautiful, crazy, cruel India. Full of spitting, honking and peeing people. Full of injustice and corruption. And yet it grabs you.....

So for now, we are going to Goa. We will forget about life and death for a while. No hills there and no Gorkha's....though, knowing T, the monsoon will probably start once we land. (Money could be made off this man! I am sure that in the Sahara they will pay a fortune for him!)
But for now we are looking forward to fish and coctails and an infinity pool.....and we will worry about injustice tomorrow....or will we?

We are in the middle of summer now, and the usual problems occur....powercuts, electricity fluctuations (causing half the house to shut down) and water shortages.

Watertankers like these can be seen everywhere, either pumping liters of sort of drinkable water into the roof-tanks of hotels, expats and affluent Indians, or dripping and leaking on the streets while street-dwellers fill their buckets and bottles and whatever else they have managed to obtain.

The "government" water that is delivered into underground tanks of the various houses (and then pumped up into the roof tanks, that is, if there is electricity) is not very dependable these days....our staff complain frequently that "no water came" or that water is trickling in veeeeery slowly...not sufficient obviously for the increased needs. Because Delhi is HOT. Today the weather forecast predicts 49 degrees Celcius, and we have not yet reached the hottest point of summer!
Apparantly it is the hottest summer in a hundred years....

We had planned to go a few days to Darjeeling, to celebrate T's birthday, but yesterday a Gorkha leader was stabbed to death in Darjeeling, and the shops have closed, there are roadblocks, and uproar is feared....so I think we will have to cancel our trip and face more of Delhi's sweltering heat.

The heat is making me slow and grouchy. I have to resist slamming a dent in the roof of a car everytime they feel the need to honk when driving right beside me....a favourite pasttime at Khan Market! I suspect that the nouveau riche in their big cars do not do this out of concern for us pedestrians but merely to draw attention to themselves and their big cars.....
I also cannot stand the slow wobbling fat ladies that take up all the space on the pavement, chatting away on their mobile phones while deciding in which establishment to gobble down the next cake, pie or chocolate....and most of all I cannot stand the spitting and peeing which is going on everywhere!
Even the indians start to notice that India is being used but not cared for, as our masseuse puts it. She does not "have a lot of english" but she certainly has a sharp ability for observation!

Now we are hoping for the monsoon. It is predicted for the 30th of May and apparantly has already started in the south...we cross our fingers because last year the monsoon was 1,5 month late and very little, and the normal febuary rains also did not come, so we are facing drought and failing crops....may the Gods be with us!

Not the "Mrs." for a change!
This time, I was invited to dinner & drinks, and T was invited as my partner....

In India, one of the things hardest for independent women like us is that we seem to become "the Mrs." the instant we set foot on Indian soil. We disappear!
Doors are slammed in our faces, we are pushed aside in waiting lines, the many "little men" that come to repair whatever is broken in our houses ingore what we say (after all, what could a WOMAN know about these things?) and if we want something done we have to ask our husbands to give the order!

Even if we are not married we pretend we are, because we become preys the minute we turn out to be "not married"...which for Indian men is the same as available. Never mind if there is a boyfriend somewhere...not married is single and single is prey!

In the more positive situations the mali (gardener) greets us with "hello Sir" (should I start paying attention to my chin?) but usually the most positive attention we can hope to get is that young men want us in their picture, never mind that we could have been their mother. I would really like to hear the comments when they show that picture to their friends....what the hell are they going to say? (I can think of many things!)

But resistence is growing!
The other day I bought a great t-shirt which is the brainchild of the "fading ladies" (www.fadingladies.blogspot.com). This is a group of ladies in Delhi who refuse to fade into oblivion, and they have started producing t-shirts with texts that tell that story...mine has a print in Hindi saying "I am not a tourist, I live here!" on it.
I think they are now planning a t-shirt that says "I am not the mister"! Way to go, ladies!

But for now, this is my own little triumph....

Recently a police officer was murdered by a rikshaw puller.
In "The Hindu" of saturday, feb 27, the following comments could be read on the subject:
"The recent murder of a traffic police constable allegedly at the hands of a rikshaw puller in the Capital's trans-Yamuna area has raised serious questions about the measures taken by a section of the police force to "discipline" rickshaw pullers on Delhi's roads".
" The incident has left many people wondering what transpired between the two that the rickshaw puller took the extreme step".
"They live under police terror. The police puncture rickshaw tires with ice-picks. This is common in places like Fatehpuri and the Red Fort. For a person who earns his daily bread by pulling a rickshaw, it is sheer torture. he has to get the punctures repaired from his [meager! M] earnings".
"It is just like beating up a man for not walking on the pavement of a road that does not have one".

The Delhi traffic police (yes, the one that is very concerned with the welfare of all these careless pedestrians crossing the road illegally and climbing fences) apparantly is less concerned with the welfare of rickshaw pullers....

This is an ad by the Delhi Police in the Hindu Times... the Delhi Police is very concerned with the health of Delhi's pedestrians and therefor urges them to cross the roads of Delhi carefully. Very noble thought....

The people in the picture are climbing over a fence at the side of the road. This is something one can observe in many places of Delhi and even on the highway which connects Delhi to Gurgaon and ultimately Jaipur. It is a newly constructed highway (still not finished) with many modern features as flyovers, tollgates and signs saying tuctuc and bicycles (three wheelers) cannot use the highway. The one thing that is not there are pedestrian crossings.

But no problem. The careless pedestrians, who run for their lives when crossing the roads of Delhi, could also use subways and zebra crossings, according to the Delhi Police.
Well, subways are going to be rather difficult to find in the middle of a highway, and so are zebra crossings, as a matter of fact.

The careless pedestrians are also urged not to read newspapers when crossing the roads....should no be too hard to achieve in a country where half the population is illiterate. Besides, who has the time to read the newspaper when running for their lives? That is the one downside...the careless pedestrians are in fact running on the road (a thing they should not do, according to the Delhi Police). Anyone who has ever tried to cross a road in Delhi understands why!

But the best is yet to come.....

Happy 2010!!!

We have just returned from a very cold Christmas vacation in Europe... it was minus 10 degrees Celcius when we left and the cargo doors of our plane were frozen, resulting in a delay of three hours. Finally we changed planes and ended up in a plane that probably had been pulled out of maintenace, because many things were not working; still, it didn't drop out of the sky and we got home in one piece...with our 3 kg of cheese and chocolate!

Delhi also turned out to be chilly, but of a different kind: "watercold", as we say in the Netherlands. And as our houses do not have heating and the electricity supply is barely enough for all the little heaters that are shattered around the house, it feels, well....cold. December and January are the two months in Delhi that one actually wears socks and sweaters, and T and I are currently very grateful for our fireplace.

We are now slowly getting back to normal life, after beating a terrible jet-lag, and decided to start planning our vacations right away. T is always busy as hell so if we don't reserve dates, his agenda will be full by the time we decide to take a vacation. So no spontaneous actions this year when it comes to getting away from it all!

But for the rest we hope the year will be exciting, interesting and most of all, fun and filled with nice dinners. And we hope yours will be too!