From a home to another: the aftermath

From a home to another: the aftermath


“Won’t you tell us one more story ?”, asked my cousin, an 8 year-old who was avoiding bedtime.

I told them about how Ali’s bag flew off the tuk-tuk and right next to a puddle, seconds before we reached Babylon. I told them about the Cherry Blossom table, the “if you forget it, it’s ours” rule, the swing, the mosquitoes that were immune to the spray repellents, Ricky and the rest of the lizards. I even told them about the thief, the monkey who ran off with orange juice. Agra and the immaculate Taj Mahal, and trying to keep an eye on 15 people without losing my hat. Continue reading “From a home to another: the aftermath”

Day 25: Are we there yet ? (1)

Day 25: Are we there yet ? (1)

The railway station stinks. Literally.

“Lia, I hate you already”

We hopped off the train for the third time, looking for 3A. Inside the train? Didn’t look very reassuring. It was a sleeper – but having no trains in Lebanon and having only been in Turkish metros, I didn’t know what to expect. I dragged my luggage (packed by Nick who preached traveling super light) through a narrow alley of Indian feet dangling on the sides.

“Lia, I really really hate you” Continue reading “Day 25: Are we there yet ? (1)”

Day 21: the camels, the dogs & the night in Thar

Day 21: the camels, the dogs & the night in Thar

Jaisalmer

Back in Lebanon, I tried to go camping several times. I failed. No exceptions. I have never managed to stay a night outdoors, in a tent. I have relatively good excuses; first time, it started raining at 2 AM and the tent was soaked so my friends and I hid 5 kilometers away, inside a friend’s villa. Second time (same place), my friends were in the woods, looking for anything that would keep the fire from dying. The bushes moved. An iPhone plummeted to its death. A little bit of screaming, a lot more of running to the cars, going back to the same villa. It probably was a cat by the way.

Third time was the charm though. I slept like a baby under sandy blankets and the stars of the Thar desert. Not too shabby, eh? Continue reading “Day 21: the camels, the dogs & the night in Thar”

Day 13: Venice of the Far-East (2)

Day 13: Venice of the Far-East (2)

There is no way to lose Ember today. He stepped in cow shit and he has trouble cleaning his slippers. He leaves brown traces behind him wherever he goes. Like a Chinese Hansel with cow feces instead of stones and bread.
The other Chinese people have decided to spend the day around city palace. We’re 14 now, which makes the job easier. AIESEC Udaipur people accompany us as we explore the city. They’re energetic people. They teach Meead some Indian dance moves. Where? In the bus.

Continue reading “Day 13: Venice of the Far-East (2)”

Day 12: Venice of the Far-East (1)

Day 12: Venice of the Far-East (1)

“Fanculo”
That’s an equivalent of f*ck in Italian. The exact translation may be too graphic and Mom is probably reading the blog, so I won’t explain it. You can ask Giacomo if you want. Meead doesn’t say “bad words” in Arabic. Just in Malaysian, Chinese, Italian, German. I’m considering teaching her one in French.
I was lucky enough to be the first to hop on the bus. I got the front seat which means one thing: more leg space.
“Good morning. Toilet!”

Continue reading “Day 12: Venice of the Far-East (1)”

Day 9: The way back

Day 9: The way back

I was pouring water on a statue while Giacomo held burning encens sticks and the Hindu priests recited verses in Hindi that Meead would have probably understood. The inside of the temple is dark, humid and wet – it’s right next to the kund, the sacred pool. I’m only wearing socks and I have already spotted two mice.¬† Continue reading “Day 9: The way back”