*REvised version*
by Christine Ka’aloa

Boo! It’s Halloween and the perfect time to talk about the SCARY of planning my itinerary for my entirely solo trip to Thailand.

My Pre-flight Jitters
I leave for Thailand in a day and my solo fears are now starting to sink in!  I’m filled with all sorts mixed emotions and self-doubts that aim to sabotage my confidence. When friends ask me whether I’m excited about my trip, I feel numb. Frankly, I wish I did not have so much time to think about it, but I do.

Planning  Woes for the Soloist

When I said earlier that my friend, Regina, does not use guidebooks when she travels, I’ll let you in on a little secret… I haven’t really either. I buy them for the “in case” I want to open them. But only until last year when I was (more…)

*REVISED*
by Christine Ka’aloa



After much research and itinerary planning for my GRRRL Solo Traveler challenge to take place in Central America, thoughtful reconsideration to travel warnings forced me to pull both, Guatemala and Central America from my plans. As a beginner, I’m not ready for them. So I took up a last minute 12-hour search for a replacement. I booked Thailand- a photogenic dream country I’d had mild curiosities about due to friend recommendations. Yay & GRRR! But it wasn’t easy. From choosing my starter country, dealing with budgetary concerns, hurdling my first soloist fears of booking a ticket and then dealing with a less than ideal flight itinerary, I’ve many things to refine in the future.

But a 12 hour search?! Call me crazy… (more…)

by Christine Ka’aloa

From a Dark Dwellings photo series that I shot when I was lost one night working in Ashland, Ohio

There are two crucial saboteurs to my GRRRL TRAVELER challenge of becoming a first time female solo traveler. And these saboteurs- my fears- poke their rebelliously fear-full heads out before I can even book my flight. Unless I find a way to deal with them, my plans are stillborn and I will not clear my challenge hurdle.

Here’s some steps I’ve taken as an attempt to deal with them: (more…)

by Christine Ka’aloa

The saying,  “A stone’s throw in a pond creates a ripple effect…” feels true of the moment. As of recent I have been juggling a lot of weighty decisions about travel, making it more of a lifestyle and what happens when you have no travel partner.

My GRRRL Traveler Challenge #1 : Become a  female solo traveler of developing countries.
My GRRRL traveling dreams and the courage required to embark upon them don’t magically create themselves, without some effort on my part to rub two stones together! I rub and I rub and ask myself- Why would I want to travel alone? That little voice inside says- “…because you love to travel…You love to explore new cultures and have adventures . Why WAIT on someone else to allow you to do that? Go for it -or – regret not trying ! And there you have it.

For me, solo travel is an opportunity to continue my travels, without being :
a) at the mercy of friends’ work-vacation schedules or luxury budgets
b) searching for travel buddies to match my wish list of developing countries
c) dealing with others’ fickleness

While twiddling my thumbs waiting, often I feel like I’m standing out in the rain, praying for lightning to strike (more…)

by Christine Ka’aloa

The Yoga of Travel: GRRRL SOLO- Part I (A New York Valentine’s Special)
“Two hearts and a table for one”
February 15, 2009

Honey,…Dearest,…Sweetie,… Babe… & The Stamp of Being SOLO.
You don’t have to be an ANTI-VALENTINES DAY grinch or a PRO V-DAY supporter. But who said if you’re solo, you can’t celebrate Valentines day as well?

In the winter chill of Manhattan, being and going SOLO can feel difficult but it is often the adopted lifestyle for a Manhattan culture absorbed in the climb of skyscraping ambitions. Soloists are definitely not alone. In NYC, “solo” is not necessarily a humiliating stamp of being an ‘unloved’ ogre but generally means you’re in a stronger and more passionate relationship ….with your career (pbbbt!). However, there are still uncomfortable moments of realization and places like restaurants, clubs or events, where being TWO feels like it would be so much better than being ONE. (more…)

Fri, Oct 10: Delhi

Today I got up late and am awoken by Dev at Shahi Palace in Jaisalmer who is calling to check in and see how my trip was going Post-Tour-Scam experience! This means that my India Vodaphone SIM finally works again… a little late but better than never! My flight leaves at an odd red-eye hour of 1:15A tomorrow morn and my hotel is allowing me a late checkout.
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Last breaths:
This may be my last day in India and its been hard to decipher whether I want to extend my stay and continue on. I want to experience more and find more redeeming qualities about it. But the fatigue of constantly scrambling to find my bearings is getting to me. Its not easy to travel solo 24/7 with last minute preparations & my annoyance is primarily a wish that I planned for myself better! Right now, I seek an oasis of calm, “a moment” of beauty and a bit of spoiled privilege to rejuvenate myself. None offers itself within the Delhi madhouse of honking horns, zig-zag driving, near death collisions, dirt, bugs, haggling, outdoor urinals and the constant visibility of poverty.
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Everything is a Negotiation
As a tourist, most of the time you’re uncertain of whether a smile means you’ve just been scammed or if someone is going to ask you for rupees for it! Places with ‘fixed prices’ are a godsend because if nothing else, its a honest foundation to base your dealings upon vs that constant feeling that no matter how earnestly you haggle, you’re bound to be a victim of a hiked up tourist price!

Haggling for my Taxi:
There is no “ART” or playfulness to my method of haggling a taxi. I simply- ASK a local what the going-rate is for my destination before hailing the auto!

Armed with my new Indian vocabulary…
1- the“swivel-bob” action with your head that looks like you’re saying NO but means “Yeah, sure why not?” and
2 – what I personally call “Chalo! hands” (a “Go” or “Go away” flicking of a hand as if shooing away flies or as if saying “There’s no more left”)

I have two points to my closed negotiation with taxi drivers:
1) I state the rate i’ve been given by a local upfront OR
2) I tell the taxi driver I want to use the meter! (something most want to avoid )
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Last day for gift-getting is a scramble & i’ve done nowhere NEAR the amount of shopping as I hear M&D are doing on this trip…

Chandni Chowk (or Moonlit Avenue) is a congested and historic marketplace of in the heart of Old Delhi with dilapidated havelis and small, winding streets and souks crowded with worker traffic, pedestrians and merchants specializing in a specific commodities.

Saris! Saris! Saris! spices, jewelry, books, grains, sweets,… you name it (I got my dad a kurta and dhoti here). Here, the traffic of people, workers & rickshaws is a swarm as it is everywhere else in India, and while there are a handful of famous neighboring tourist landmarks, what makes CC the mother of Delhi markets and bazaars is what I call, “THE HUMAN PLOW”!

Firstly, the cargos of product or produce are transported via 1) being strapped on the top of one’s head or 2) via “pullcart wagon” with one man up front pulling, followed by two men behind pushing! Secondly, these cargo loads are LARGE & seemingly BEYOND NORMAL HUMAN CAPACITY and these men DO NOT make it look easy! Their sweat pours physical strain and uneasy facial winces.

Cows are considered sacred in India, so it’s a bold sight to see men doing the mule work, strapped to the yoke as the cows lazily look on. I’ve an immediate respect for The Human Plow. IT IS WHAT IT IS in extreme manual labor and a hard day of honest work! And despite the discomfort and the strain of their work, most of these hard-working men will make the time and energy amidst their work to lend a smile to my camera. These men love the attention of having their picture taken & why shouldn’t they?…What they do is phenomenal.

Like worker bees and ants- each man is necessary to literally, pushing the great wheel of daily commerce- his insignficance and greatness of his destiny is enslaved to arduous manual labor and the daily contract of…a few rupees!
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Street Food
I’ve been progressively bolder about eating foods from local shop vendors . Today I pull out all stops. I admit, a part of me foolishly believes that i’ve NOT experienced TRUE IN-D-I-A until i’ve experienced Delhi-Belly, so I go crazy with sampling those foods off the streets sold in “the newspaper envelopes and banana leaf bowls”! Street food is a common & inexpensive fast food restaurant substitute …but without a roof! A chai stand could lend a table & bench for people to “sit & sip” or it may consist of only one person, squatting on a mat while brewing cups for willing squatters. Food vendors sell a range of things- chaat (like Indian Chex Mix or mixed plates & you choose the mixings), puris, samosas, jalebis (a deep-fried breakfast pretzel soaked in sweet syrup), curries, etc… Anywhere nearby is ‘squat or stand’ real estate for patrons taking their meal-on-the-go.

The cups, packages and bowls that hold street food is a novelty! No plastic knifes, forks or paper plates – everything is biogradeable trash. Small packages holding samosas and burfis, etc… are made from newspaper, while bowls are constructed from banana leaves. In Bhaktapur, Nepal, one chaat vendor had made scoops from folded paper and cups were made from composition book pages containing someone’s homework on it. Crazy. I love this way of creative resourcefulness!

Wednesday, October 8: Delhi

Back in Delhi. This second time around (post scam tour), I am CONVINCED I will make it better!

First stop: Tourist Freak Shows- It is Regina’s birthday and Regina’s Indian friends, Ramina and Reena hosting a lunch in celebration and our travel squad has been invited. I am excited! A trip to a foreign country doesn’t have much bearing if you’re always seeing things from a tourist’s perspective. Often, you’re trying to acclimate yourself to the differences in cultures, climates and lifestyles. You have to take a picture of EVERY oddity that is not in your cultural vocabulary. EVERYTHING is a novelty or an untrained circus act to you. ie… I saved my MacDonald‘s wrapper because it said “Paneer Salsa Wrap” (its the equivalent of a vegetarian breakfast burrito but with potatoes!) Retarded stuff like that, you know? I was even taking pictures of my food for a while, until I realized- Hey, unless there’s a lamb’s head (god forbid) propped up by a stake or wiggly things on my plate, then I can probably get this shot at any Indian restaurant in NYC! But being new to this culture, it’s hard to find the cut-off point between shooting “novelty freak & sideshow acts” vs “worthwhile memories” accurate to experiencing a true India.

Applying for Visa-like SIMs: I met R at the Vonnage store in Connaught Place. We needed to report that the SIM cards Regina had purchased for us were NOT working and we’ve been without use of our phones since. The store gave us the run-around & it’s true that anything dealing with the purchase of SIM’s in India is a real hassle & more strenuous than applying for a Visa! Proof of residence or hotel stay (a written letter on letterhead stating exact dates of stay) IS REQUIRED. This is difficult for a traveler that plans from day-to-day. But Regina wisely brought her Hawaii driver’s license for proof! Hah! After straightened out confusions, we were off to the metro and the district of Dwarka, a serene residential sector in Delhi with clean town houses, apartment complexes with not a visible stain of poverty!

Finding your way can be hard: The auto-rickshaw driver may NEED to ask SEVERAL people along the way for directions or may “choose” NOT to pick you up if you’re not going to an area he doesn’t feel like. I had a rickshaw driver who took all of 15 min + several neighborhood inquiries to drive to a place which was located 5 min on a direct semi circle of the same street. A cheap and efficient alternative is the new Delhi metro- you’ll save time, money and haggle energy! The metro system is still new and its surprising to see a different life exists on it. The facilities are clean, people are better dressed and overall, the environment is degrees cleaner (yet still predominantly male)! There is NO eating or drinking on the metro and at approx. 19Rs (a little under 25 cents!) it’s cheaper than a cab or rickshaw.

Indian Hospitality & New friends : Lunch at Reena & Ramina’s apartment in Dwarka was wonderful! Our hosts made a delicious rice biryani, daal, chicken curry, veggies, dessert, etc… It was a large spread to feed us all- Regina and a bunch of strangers they’ve not met before. This was Indian hospitality! While Team M&D had to rush to jump on the itinerary again, Regina and I stayed for a longer chillax time with the sisters. Nearing their 30′s, the sisters Reena & Ramina come from a class of Modern Delhites. Dressed leisurely in tank tops and shorts, they are both, beautiful, single, working career gals on their day off, with very warm and earthy demeanors. And damn- can they cook!… Hailing from Manipur (where Regina thinks we might be able to pass ourselves off as being from in order to blend in, as the features we hear lend toward an Asian-Pacific Island look), the sisters have made their home and careers in Delhi- one in advertising and the other in non-profit, conservational wildlife. The girls are genuinely chill people.

Lights Off Rock-n-Rolla : With our new friends, Ramina & Reena and my new Delhi Facebook friend, Sandeep (whom I met that eve) we were at Cafe Morrison, a hip rock-n-roll bar in Greater Kailash, south Delhi. Sandeep, in his 20′s, is born and raised in an affluent Delhi family and took his college schooling in the States. He is jovial and fun and immediately I know I will like him as a friend. Rock-n-Roll bars are a funny thing to me and even funnier when it’s a rock-n-roll bar in India. All of it is rock-n-roll America, music, dancing, drinks, bar food … NO India. (This feels odd when you know you’re in INDIA). The young Indian hipsters come out from the crack in ceiling and remindi you that Delhi is capable of being modern.

Delhi shuts down at around 12A and Sandeep, a true gentleman, kindly offered to drive me back to my hotel in dreadful Paharghanj. He knew it was unsafe for me as a female & I felt unsafe returning at this late an hour! We waited for Birthday Girl, Regina to hop her cab to the Sheraton & were off! While Sandeep had lived in Delhi most of his life, places like Paharganj were far removed from his vocabulary. So we had to stop occasionally to ask for directions on how to get there. India– the poor can’t get out and the rich have to ask directions as to how to get in!

Most of the hours I’ve seen Paharghanj, it’s been bustling with human traffic, so I wasn’t expecting there to be a CURFEW. To my surprise, after 12A- all was pitch black and sleeping!!! Most of the small streets & alleys were as dark as they were nameless. There were no streetlights and everything was deserted except the outdoor bed cots speckled with employees of establishments. I was thankful for Sandeep. There was NO WAY I would have found my hotel in any safe manner and I definitely, would NOT have found a cab or rickshaw driver to take me through those streets at this late an hour! When we finally found my $12/nite budget hotel Cozy Inn located in a winding alley, Sandeep escorted me in and knocked on the glass door for one of the hotel employees to open up. Upon hearing the knock, one of the hotel employees unrolled himself from his blanket on the lobby floor and wearily got up to unlock the door to let me in.

Goodnight!

Tuesday, Oct 7: Delhi

As terrifying and dangerous as it can be to be “a first time solo female traveler” traveling through developing countries, there are also a great advantages I’m experiencing.

The first – No remote controls or glass windows. Unlike traveling solo for work, I don’t have: a GPS, Hertz rental car, 4-5 star hotel with meal stipends, a support office back home working 24/7 that I can ring up when something goes awry… No. None of that. When you don’t have a pampering support structure, what do you do? You are forced to interact with people and are no longer an observer or passive participant of your travels. You’re almost reliant upon strangers as you are vulnerable and you must with great caution, distinguish between TRUSTWORTHY advice and lies. And while you try your best to be on your toes about things, there’s a huge language barrier & “trust” in strangers you have no choice but surrender to. This makes you vulnerable to being fucked with!

One rickshaw driver (yeah, this is his scrawny chicken leg…) in Varanasi dropped me far from my hotel because I haggled him down to the “local price” vs. the “tourist’s” & he was not happy with that. My traveler intuition told me that “something felt wrong” but being foreign to the mass of crazy alley-streets w/ no signs, how was I supposed to be certain? So I did in my mind the wisest and ONLY thing I could do to ensure justice on some level- before handing him my money, I said “If this is not the right place and you cheat me, then this is …Karma!”

The driver nodded agreement, I paid him & he went off on his way, leaving me in Fuck-you, Goodbye-land! Sometimes, you take a risk and make mistakes – this only enforces the learning of what your environment and the “local way” can truly be about!

Secondly- you must survive by your own RESOURCEFULNESS while holding COMPASSION in your wallet. Most travelers and soloists are in the same backpacking boat as you, feeling equally naked, equally “budget-minded” and… equally excited to chatter about adventures and observations of the foreign-ness they’re experiencing! Some travelers aid you in the passing of time, offer insights and advice to the cultural ways or are there to momentarily conspire with you in “The Art of Stretching your Rupee” (ie. Lee from China).

You meet travelers from every part of the world and most of the backpacking/traveler types come from differing economies and longer days of travels. The gift you learn is compassion, sensitivity and open-mindedness, that not everyone sees the way you do or has a spending budget such as yours. With Lee, she was doing most of her travels via local bus or train because a $100 flight while allowing for more time to sightsee a city, was way TOO expensive. She even passed on a 100Rs (roughly $2USD) boat ride on the Ganges, even though it was something she wanted to do and I offered to split the cost with her (I didn’t mind taking it again). Sometimes you forget that what is “CHEAP” for you is “not cheap ” for others, even when they’re your peers… You learn to watch your expensive tongue and be respectful of the fact, Hey- wake up, ALL PEOPLE aren’t YOU!

Thirdly- you discover the world, while round, is also VERY small. When meeting people on the road, you inevitably trip upon those No-Way! coincidences and ironies. On my last day in Varanasi I tripped upon a 6’4″ gawk-ward boheme and artsy Frenchboy, Dorian! I told him how I fell in love with this little town in Southern France, Die, that I spent a month ine & he exclaimed in an exuberant scribbly French accent “Die! Mon Dieu- what a coincidence…that’s where I’m from!”

Fourth- Kind hearts. There’s a reassurance that you are not alone and that there are angels watching over you (sometimes, in the form of other travelers.) Traveling solo and being female, I find people admire my strength of spirit and are more compassionate and protective for my well-being and safety than they would be others. Tonight, arriving back in Delhi, I spent time with an older couple. Doran, a quiet Israeli scientist was traveling with his wife through India after having attended a conference in Hyderbad. I was bonding with his wife through our observations of poverty in the Varanasi homes & talk of experiencing Rishikesh (they were going there next), when I noticed over her shoulder that Doran, like myself was a hobby photographer with a wonderful and amazing compositional eye for capturing irony. When I reached Delhi, the couple extended a potential meetup invitation in Rishikesh and a contact number should I get into a tight spot in my travels. In such a short time, this couple had built a firm memory in my heart.

Doran & his wife introduced me to a young Israeli girl who was traveling alone. The Israeli girl asked if I wanted to share an airport cab w/ herself and Marianne. Marianne was a French female traveler whom the Israeli met on the plane also…(you see where I’m going with this “you pick people up along the way” backpacking/traveler mentality)! When it was discovered that we were all going to the Paharganj area, it felt like my devotion to the Hindu god Ganesh was paying off in lucky travel coincidences!

On the Road at last …in the spirit of Jack Keroac
I suggested taking a pre-paid airport taxi- a 175 Rs cab ride was roughly a $4 fare and divided 3 ways, it cost us each about $1 per person! The girls were holding out for a cab that cost even LESS, but they finally realized this was the cheapest quote. Riding from the airport to the Paharghanj area with these ladies worked out great! The cab was alive with regaling travel stories of “Why solo travel is the best way to experience a place, its culture and people!” Everything is on your own terms when you travel alone- NO COMPROMISES and you get to do what YOU want to do without wasting time on the (as Marianne puts it) “touristy crap”. My new alliances were obviously NOT of the touristy crap sort and it was ludicrous for them to think of paying for their experiences (hence, I DID NOT- repeat- DID NOT reveal that I foolishly paid money for a tour let alone that it was a scam!)

Since my art days, I had always romanticized being a traveler vs. a tourist. I like my experiences rooted deep, free, natural and a bit accidental vs. paying for expensive “used shoes“. The Frenchie and the Israeli had a similar bohemian Jack Keroac mind towards “The Art of Traveling“. They wanted to experience the freedom of their travels by living off the land and… for free (or close to it)! Afterall, as Marianne put it “Why pay a tour where they have a someone show me ‘What India is’, when I can meet fellow travelers & locals with whom I can discover and create my own experiences of India ?” This is true.

Paul Bowles, Jack Keroac, Larry Rivers, all writers, poets and bohemes of the beat culture know that you go where the road takes you and you take what it gives you. Until this trip (& traveling with a tourist team like M&D), most of my travels have been a bit like this- I’m not “a Planner” or “an Itinerary Survivalist” ! I’m used to traveling with extremely creative artists or tv production crews with a similar agendas and who covet their alone/creative time as well. Majority of my experiences are natural and mostly “accidental” but I trust the element of surprise. In the end, they become “experiences” which take me levels deeeper and are 10x more fulfilling than any tour could plan.

If I didn’t want to experience India- dirty bedsheets, piss-poverty-n-all (& by all means, not saying this is ALL there is to India, but just the forefront of my reactions), then I am best off watching it TV where there are no smells and no extremes suffered. My life is one long luxury vacation compared to my experiences here but the very reason I travel is to NOT experience MY LIFE.

So suck it up! I’m back in Paharganj, staying at $12/night dirty-looking bedsheets #2, Raj’s Cozy Inn Hotel! (and secretly still having a both, grand and terrified time!)

Tues, Oct 7: Varanasi

Today is my Rest day: It is my last day in Varanasi. NO “have to’s – should see’s or do’s”…(I WILL NOT REGRET) … NO pushing. I will let the Spirit of Varanasi guide me to where she wants and I humbly obey. Hopefully, she’s a bit more seductive and a little less buffeting this time.

First, the spirit guides me to lazing in the clean sheets of my ahhhhh AC palace. I enjoy time off from the heat, the stink, the cows and the scams. I hang out to the cafe patio, have some Thali and spend time on the internet booking my hotel in Delhi. Finally, I “prepare” myself to go out & explore my satanic temptress- get lost in her winding streets, search her for burfis, jalebis and samosa snacks, shop her some and check out the life on her ghats!

Due to the recent bomb scares around India & most recently around Delhi, Varanasi has been under high security this week of Durga Puja and Ramlila festivities. The Vishwanath Temple (aka the Golden Temple) is nearby my guest house and is the only tourist attraction i’m remotely curious about (churches & temples are my weakness). Its entrance has over a dozen policemen guarding it. NO cellphones, NO cameras, NO electronics…and NO shoes! I am an armed artillery factory as far as these rules are concerned but its really the effort of dismantling my arms at the guest house AND the overpowering “NO Shoes rule” which kills it for me. Thus, No Golden Temple.

BROWN is an easy color to be in India: The pollution, noise, poverty and dirt are UNAVOIDABLE in India and I can’t UN-choose them. In L.A., it can take a week for a good layer of dust to cover your car enough to finger the words “Wash Me” on it. In India, I imagine it takes one day! There has not been a day gone by that my nails haven’t looked like I’ve been doing hard manual labor in the fields and the color of my bra and underwear after a day or two of wearing changes drastic shades! The heat and humidity at this time of year, post-monsoon, is another factor. My weight-loss is mostly all water and despite my vigilant wearing of 30 + 50 proof sunscreens, within a day, the brown in my Pacific Islander genes is called to the surface & I get the “Hawaiian tan” ( via India) i’ve been avoiding all my life!

Priesthood- some go willingly, some…wailingly: On the main ghat outside the Shiva temple, I see a group of young men looking on as a barber shaves one of their friends’ heads. A little ways down, I see mothers holding their crying babies as another barber shaves their hair as well. I take this is one of the rituals going into priesthood. For some, this calling is an honor and it is a choice and then for others, I suppose they don’t really get to have a say in matters…

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Tikka type & a case of mistaken identity: I meet the entrance of the popular Shiva temple that i’ve seen on my first day from my boat. I purchase a garland of marigolds for offering

and enter the temple (yes, I took my shoes off and walked with cupped feet again!) The temple is home to at least 3 or 4 different dieties of Shiva, each with its own altar. A priest resides at each altar to give you prassad and a corresponding tikka (or red dot on the forehead). Varanasi is a city devoted to the hindu Lord Shiva and while there are also temples devoted to others gods such as Durga or Hanuman, etc.. here in the city, the number of Shiva temples are the most prolific. But Shiva comes in many forms and thus, so do the tikkas! Much like code, here in Varanasi, you can tell a person’s god by their dotted marking….and I paid homage to the wrong dot! Naively, I went and placed my flower offering on the first altar I saw only to discover several more around the corner with MY favorite Ganesh just a few steps away. The tikka I got was a huge round dot the size of a boil- not a cute tiny sliver or neat, tiny pimple like some of the others i had admired. I wiped it off. It was huge and i’m convinced, the same that I was given on my Underbelly Tour. Whatever my karma is with Shiva- I keep accidentally running into that personality which keeps chasing me to wear his huge round dots!