Shillong, Meghalaya

Hallelujah.

In more ways than one.

We have at last reached the remote town of Shillong, in the state of Meghalaya, home to a rich amalgam of ethnicities, cleaner than any town yet, and full of lush greenery. There's still heart-wrenching poverty, but now juxtaposed with riches, and oh the streets feature far less trash.

We've met Leban, the Peace Education Conference organizer, but not before a comedy of errors that had us contacting the kind friend we met on the bus first. Finally, we landed in the home of Pamela, a Punjabi Christian woman (a large percentage of Shillong is Christian), who has been treating us as honored guests: our own room, meals, a driver, and very entertaining conversations.

Raj is reminding me that I've gone past the time I promised to end at this computer, so I'll come back to this later, with photos, if possible!

Love,

Jill

Traveling with my "very good friend."

Jill, 03 November 2010

Some nonsequiturs...this is Raj and me at a large food court-type place in Delhi with my first sample of Indian treats.

It's been a while since I've been able to get to a computer. Even now, I'm in a little shop on a busy street of Guwahati, an industrial town above Shillong, where we're headed tomorrow. A strong kerosene smell visits my nostrils with each inhalation. Not so much fun. Sometimes it seems I go for many hours at a time without a deep inhalation.

It has all the dirt of Delhi, plus extra industrial stuff, but without the color and culture of Kolkata, so we're moving on sooner rather than later down toward Shillong, which will be more rural, I expect. We did see a number of beautiful farms on the way from the Guwahati airport, and quite a few animals (goats, cows, ducks) roaming freely in and out of traffic.

I feel overloaded with sights, sounds, smells, tastes, observations, and questions.

Stares follow us wherever we go. Not unfriendly, but curious, puzzled, unsure, sometimes what looks like guarded or suspicious. A few times, Raj has gotten called "sir," shortly followed by an apology. She says that never happened when she traveled alone, so we're thinking they look at us and think I'm female, so naturally Raj, with the sole secondary masculine sex characteristic of short hair, must be male.

We've been trying to be mindful and consideration about taking photos, asking permission, or being very discreet about the camera or both, and have been amused and a bit surprised that a number of Indians, particularly younger folks, have also wanted to photograph us. We aren't quite sure why. While at the Taj Majal, a large group of schoolgirls in uniform were looking at us, and then one with her friends asked to take our picture. Of course we said yes. Then I asked if I could take theirs. I love when people are so open with their curiosity, such honest curiosity and lack of judgment.


On the way to Guwahati, a young man sitting opposite us asked where we were from, requested a photo, and then invited us to sit with him. So we talked with him for a while. He was on his way back from Delhi, where he had enlisted in the Indian Navy. He asked if we were sisters or friends or what. I consulted Raj briefly, and then told him we were "very good friends." A part of me sank inside as I lied to him through this partial truth, and I chose to do it because I really had no idea what the consequences might be for announcing our relationship in this part of the world, where we don't know the language, have no clue what kind of resources or support might be available if we were to encounter danger, and are days from home.

My very good friend and I encountered another awkward moment when we arrived at the hotel and requested a single double bed instead of the two twins we were given. A crowd of four staffpeople hovered at the entrance to our room looking in as the bellperson showed us our new quarters. Again, I sensed only curiosity, not hostility, but still I felt uncomfortable.

OK, this place is closing so more now--I have zillions of pictures!

Love,

Jill