I've been in an internet desert for quite a few days, but finally find myself this evening in a pleasant Internet cafe with a fast connection, so I'll catch you up on the time since I last posted.

I'd been heavy hearted and worried during much of that time because of the hospitalization of my nephew O. But I got good news this morning when I was finally able to talk with my brother R for a few minutes using the phone in this same Internet cafe, in the town of Bundi, Rajasthan. Amazing how the dark clouds can part and vanish in an instant, once a few words have been said!

Actually, I could hear only a few of R's words, because this Internet cafe is open to the street and, as I sit at this computer, I'm only about 5 feet away from that street and from the constantly honking horns of motorcycles and autorickshaws. Indian drivers use their horns extensively to let each other know of their positions and speed. They rocket and weave around each other, cows, camels, water buffaloes, sleeping dogs, small children, street vendors, and other obstacles at speeds that astonished me when I first arrived in New Delhi, but which now seem normal, and they drive with great skill. I've come to love rocketing around India's streets in autorickshaws.

Today is Mohammed's birthday, a national holiday in India, so the street outside this cafe has been extra busy. As I talked with R this morning, a procession in honor of the occasion, complete with loudspeakers, was passing in front of this cafe. "What?," I kept repeating to R during our conversation. I heard the big news from him, though little else came through clearly. Later today, we learned that today is a special day for two other reasons: it's a celebration for working men, and it's a special day for worshiping Shiva, the great Hindu god.

Since I last wrote from Aurangabad, we have visited the Ajanta caves near that city, the site of many Buddhist monasteries centuries ago. Those monasteries were eventually abandoned as Buddhism died out in India (even as it was spreading elsewhere in the world), but left behind are beautiful sculptures and paintings.

We went on to Bharatpur, where we spent a day exploring a national park full of bird life, deer, antelope, and one tiger (we saw a pugmark in the dust of the road). We made that exploration in cycle rickshaws, and our drivers were excellent at pointing out birds and animals and identifying species for us.

We then spent two days at Ranthambore National Park, where we took jeep safaris into four different zones of the park in order to observe wildlife. The park is lovely, filled with rolling hills, steep cliffbands, forests and savannas, and lakes. Ranthambore is known as a good place to see tigers in the wild, and we saw two. The first one stalked gracefully alongside the road past our jeep, about 10 feet away from us at her closest (I was on the side nearest her, where those 10 feet seemed an extremely short distance). She then headed away through grassy savanna towards a nearby small herd of deer. We watched this drama with eyes figuratively as big as saucers. At the same time, langurs, small apes which normally bound acrobatically through the trees, took up viewing spots high in trees, where they watched the unfolding drama silently. The tiger rushed a deer, but soon abandoned her chase.

Now we're in the lovely town of Bundi, where a huge, old maharaja's palace overhangs our hotel. It's lighted in the evening, and K and I are enjoying the beautiful scene out our window. We spent today visiting a nearby village, learning about the lives of the villagers, and, in my case, practicing my halting Hindi. I'll try to write more about that adventure and more about Bundi generally, tomorrow. It's now getting dark outside and very lively as the celebrations rachet up--so it's time for K and me to head back up the winding streets to our hotel.