Tiger!

So, I finally made it to India. The tour was pricier than my usual mode of travel (a moment of insanity at the time of booking), with hotels that were more posh than I required, but there were definite perks. The small group ended up being five of us - two couples and me. We got lucky in that personalities meshed well.

We had one primary tour guide throughout and he treated us as guests rather than tourists. We started in Delhi, went to Agra (Taj Mahal), then to Ranthambore National Park, Jaipur, then back to Delhi to fly home. There's SO much to tell, but I'm also catching up on work, so for today let's talk about Noor, the tiger.

We went out into the park, which has limited access, in open jeeps. I figured IF we got lucky enough to see a tiger, it would be fleeting and in the distance. There were three of us in our jeep with the driver and a naturalist who told us about the birds and animals we were seeing. Well into the park, the driver suddenly shouted and started driving like a maniac down the track which was basically a rough logging-type trail. The naturalist turned to us and kept saying "Tiger" - and there were three or four jeeps ahead. I was still expecting to see a tiger at a distance, probably running from the commotion.

Instead, the tiger stalked down the trail toward us, not the least frightened. Knowing how much damage an angry house cat can do, a chill passed through my gut considering how much damage this tiger could do in a matter of moments.

And she was definitely annoyed by us.

She sprayed urine at the jeep with our tour guide and the other couple - yes, definitely annoyed. These pics may be mine or Lina's (the other lady in our jeep) or maybe from our tour guide, Chanchal Srivastava.

The local drivers and naturalists were all stoked by this encounter as well. The monsoon season had just ended, so between tall grass and abundant water, they didn't really expect to spot a tiger, let alone have this experience. They said March is a better month to spot them because they'll go to the few places they can find water to cool off.

www.sherimcguinn.com

Adventure: Getting Ready for India - again

Courtesy: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Rubel Collection, Purchase, Anonymous Gift and Cynthia Hazen Polsky Gift, 1997

First of all, having worked on Suzanne Blaney's Impressionism: Inspiration & Evolution, I now know our art museums are excellent resources for public domain images - but you need to give credit as specified. I haven't got my own photos yet, but this one's a beauty. Photos like this first piqued my interest in India as a child, plus the Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Then I actually had a roommate in college who'd grown up with diplomatic parents in India - and she didn't pick up after herself! And then movies introduced me to Shah Rukh Khan and the music of A. R. Rahman and beautiful landscapes.

My local bookstore owner in Arizona had previously been a nurse and she had traveled to India as part of a medical Yatra with a group of doctors from Ohio. She wasn't going again, but she hooked me up and, in January 2014, I was all set to go to India for five weeks with a group of doctors I'd never met. I bought my own plane ticket, but they would take care of accommodations and food while we traveled to villages where they'd provide medical services and I would teach CPR. I was even learning Hindi, though there are so many languages in India I'm not sure that would have been of great use out in villages.

Then my son was in an accident. Goofy on a concussion and pain killers, he insisted I not be contacted because I was in India (I hadn't left yet), and he told his siblings he just had a broken arm. When they kept him overnight, his sister got suspicious and let me know he was hurt and what hospital to call. Bless the nurse who ignored HIPAA enough to let me know he was still in ICU awaiting surgery on a broken back. I never remember names, so she's safe. I made the fourteen hour drive in about twelve.

He was still in the hospital the day I was to leave for India and he would need help with the back brace because his dominant arm had been shattered as well. The five weeks I'd cleared for the trip was exactly the amount of time he needed assistance.

Looking back, I wasn't completely comfortable with the arrangements for my arrival in India. The docs were from there originally and I wasn't sure if anyone was actually meeting my flight or not. So, rather than try to do that again, I have paid a crazy amount for a week tour of the "Golden Triangle" - Delhi, Agra (the Taj), and Jaipur - plus Ranthambore National Park. I paid a "solo" surcharge - next trip I'm looking for a company that specializes in solo folk. However, the cost included my flight, hotels with good reputations, and a small group.

Meanwhile, I did the Visa application online - MUCH easier as a simple tourist, checked what inoculations I had and got one I needed, and have contacted my cell carrier (because I will NOT have service there and we decided I can turn off the phone as I leave the US and my texts etc. will be waiting when I get back and turn it on again). We've got my cheap little notebook working good enough for email and possibly Skype - and since I'm with a tour staying in nice hotels, internet will probably be available enough. It's only a week.

I've been reviewing my guide books, too.

Maybe I'll have time to review a little Hindi, just for fun.

www.sherimcguinn.com

Sometimes the plan changes

I set aside five weeks to go to India with a medical YATRA. I learned enough Hindi to say “I’m a teacher; I’m not a doctor.” I had two CPR kits and was practicing to teach villagers how to keep someone alive. I was going to leave for Phoenix on Jan. 15. Instead, I got to try my two Hindi phrases on the medical personnel at UC Davis, Sacramento.

The first weekend in January my son was in a car accident. He got out of the car, saw headlights coming, and apparently dove over the guardrail to get out of traffic. He was on a bridge, thirty feet in the air. He doesn’t remember much other than that and the other car was abandoned when police got there. Thank goodness they looked over the edge and saw him.

He got out of the hospital the day I was supposed to leave for India. By then the stitches where his back and arm had been operated on could get wet, but because of the broken arm, he needed help getting the back brace off and back on. Conveniently, I had a few weeks cleared so I could stay and help him–India will happen another day. I got to shop at an Indian grocery and eat at India House in Rancho Cordova while I was in Sacramento, so it was not a complete loss. The YATRA says they’re refunding the money I gave for food and lodging, but Air Canada and Travelocity have not been so kind. Air Canada hasn’t even responded to my complaint at the way their refusal was handled: The first person said to call and reschedule once I heard from the doctors how long I would be needed. As long as it was before my flight was scheduled she said there was no problem. When I called back to reschedule, I got a different woman who said I could not reschedule unless I was going to fly sooner, which of course was not an option. When I asked to speak to a supervisor, she said she was the supervisor and had worked there twenty years. Her tone was quite nasty.

Ah well. The funny thing is, I had a feeling something was going to go wrong. My daughter was flying to Colorado the same day on a small airline and I’d worried she might end up in a crash in the Rockies and I’d have to turn around as soon as I got to Mumbai. I never expected to see my oldest in the hospital.

He’s alive, walking, off all pain killers, and can lift a dinner plate. So he’s good. It’ll be a few more weeks before he knows if he can go back to work, but he’s ready to be flexible about his future–except for his back with the two metal rods in it, that won’t ever be flexible.