The Diary of the Roads I have Been On:: Embracing the World's Charm
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When author Nalini Juthani immigrated from India to the United States, her goal was to get a higher education and travel the world. She has fulfilled her dreams and enhanced her life by creating such travel experiences. In this memoir, The Diary of the Roads I have Been On: Embracing the World’s Charm, she shares the stories of enrich
Nalini Juthani
NALINI JUTHANI is a psychiatrist and a medical educator who has lived in the USA for 48 years. She immigrated from India. She lives with her husband and have three children and five grandchildren. She has written two memoirs to inspire and touch all of her readers. The short stories in both these books address power of positive thinking, empowerment of women, cultural adaptation of immigrants as well as people who move away from their nest. She had a dream to travel the seven continents of the world. Although to walk through every corner of the world is impossible, she has set foot in every continent of the world. Her second memoir is based on the inspirations from my travels.
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The Diary of the Roads I have Been On: - Nalini Juthani
The Diary of the Roads I have Been On
Copyright © 2018 by Nalini Juthani. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.
The opinions expressed by the author are not necessarily those of URLink Print and Media.
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Published in the United States of America
ISBN 978-1-64367-124-6 (Paperback)
ISBN 978-1-64367-102-4 (Digital)
Non-Fiction
21.11.18
For My Husband
viren
Children
manisha, Kapila, viral
And
Our Grandchildren
Ishani, shaan, Kush, piya, Kayshar
Contents
List of Illustrations
Author’s Note
Acknowledgements
My Dream Land: Kashmir
Out of the country: My Eyes Were on the World
Arriving in America
First Trip to Canada, the Land Above
Europe: the Continent of Diverse Cultures
Within the Vast Land of America
My Trips to India: Home Sweet Home
Travels With Three Children
Travelling With Friends
Traveling with Organized Tours
A Room with a View
Lone Traveling
Future in Traveling
Alaska Revisited
Final Words
Inspiration from my Travels
List of Illustrations
My Dream Land: Kashmir
Nalini’s wanderlust had just begun, India
Nalini in Kashmir, the dream land, India
From Left, Hatim, Amta, Nalini, Viren at the Golden Temple, India
Golden Temple, Amritsar, India
Nalini in Nek Chand’s world acclaimed
Out of the country: My Eyes Were on the World
Ma, Amta, Kantimama, Padmamami, Batuben, Kalpesh,
Manjeri, amongst many who came to Mumbai airport to fare goodbye to Viren and Nalini, India
First Trip to Canada, the Land Above
Polar Bears in Churchill, Canada
Polar Bears, mom and cub in Churchill, Canada
Nalini and Viren outside the first museum of Human Rights with statue of Mahatma Gandhi, Winnipeg, Canada
CN Tower, Toronto, Canada
Europe: the Continent of Diverse Cultures
Barbara and Nalini in Switzerland, Europe
Nalini and Viren with Bagpipe player in traditional Scottish Kilts, Scotland, Europe
Nalini and Viren on the Royal Yacht Britannia, Edinburgh, Europe
Nalini in Viren in Vigeland Sculpture Park, Oslo, Norway, Europe
Northern Lights in Norway, Europe
Plitvice Falls National Park, Croatia
Selfie of Nalini at Blue Caves, Croatia
Nalini and Viren in Jerusalem, Israel
Within the Vast Land of America
Viral, Kapila, Manisha, Viren and Nalini in Alaska, USA
Nalini and Virendra at Crazy Horse Memorial to the spirit of the Native American Chief, Lakota Leader, Crazy Horse, South Dakota, USA
Viren and Nalini at Mount Rushmore, South Dakota, USA
My Trips to India: Home Sweet Home
Auspicious Ganges river Aarti, Haridwar, India
Nalini and Sheetal in Rajkot, India
Travels With Three Children
Viral and Kapila at the Taj Mahal, Agra, India
Viral and Nalini at Ram Baugh Palace, Jaipur, Rajasthan, India
Viral, Kapila, Nalini and Viren at London Bridge, London, England, Europe.
Kapila, Nalini and Manisha in Kimono outfit, Tokyo, Japan
Kapila, Viren, Nalini, Viral, Manisha in Kyoto, Japan
Manisha, Nalini and Ishani, three generational women at Hilton Head, South Carolina, USA
Travelling With Friends
Viren and Nalini in the same Cable car where President Clinton sat a year earlier to view the Great Wall of China, Beijing, China
Viren and Nalini in the museum where Terracotta Army of the first emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang located in Shaanxi, China
Chinese artist demonstrating his artwork to Nalini in Beijing, China
Butterfly Garden in New Zealand
Viren and Nalini in St. Petersburgh, Russia
140 feet tall idol of Lord Murugan (Shiva, Hindu God) in Batu Caves, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia
Marble Statues of standing and sitting Buddha in South Vietnam
Traveling with Organized Tours
Viren and Nalini at Ankorwat, the largest Religious Monument in the world, Siem Reap, Cambodia
Meeting of waters of two rivers, dark water of Rio Negro and white water of Rio Silimoes to form River Amazon in Manaus, Brazil, South America
Iguazu Falls, Argentinian side, South America
Viren and Nalini with our tour guide in South America
Patagonia, the southernmost tip of South America
Viren and Nalini in Machu Picchu, Peru, South America
Viren and Nalini at Corovado Mountain to watch the statue of Christ the Redeemer in Rio De Jeniero, Brazil
A Room with a View
Baseball Field from our hotel room, Toronto, Canada
Sunset from the balcony of our hotel room
View from my room
View from my room
View from my room
View from my hotel room, Dubrovnik, Croatia
Author’s Note
As I started to write this book, I realized that there is a running theme that connects all my travels throughout the seven continents of the world. Meeting new people and bonding with the people I knew, making meaningful relationships, learning about their culture, capturing and preserving memories through photography, learning about the history and evolution of each place, the food they ate and the food we could eat or not eat because of our vegetarian food choices, inspired me and made my life richer. Each chapter has a story to tell about the innovative, inspiring and engaging experiences I had in my travels, and I hope some of this may inspire you, if anything, at least get up and travel, and never stop creating new chapters for yourself. You set the limit.
I have enjoyed the process of writing because it has given me an opportunity to walk down the memory lane and to revisit and reflect upon the experiences I had during my travels. Each essay is accompanied by photographs that have captured my underlying mood at that time.
Acknowledgements
I want to acknowledge the people who I encountered on my journey through my travels. My late uncle Jay Gandhi, an author himself, inspired me to write about my experiences which led me to write this book. Although he did not live long enough to read this book, my gratitude goes to him for his support and encouragement. I want to thank my travel partners, my husband, Viren, my three children Manisha, Kapila and Viral who encouraged me to tell stories about my travels.
I want to thank my editor, Carlos Henri-Ferré, who read each story and helped me expand them in my own voice. He listened to these stories with great interest and encouraged me. He offered me new insights into making this book more interesting to people who do not know me. Finally, he said which was very touching to me, Dr. Juthani, what can I say? You have inspired me to travel, I am on my way!
I dedicate this book to my grandchildren, Ishani, Shaan, Kush, Piya and Kayshar with a hope that someday they will be inspired to travel the world, learn from their experiences and share their own to enrich their lives. On this journey of life, I was fortunate to travel the world and learn life’s valuable lessons.
I want to thank my friend, Bernice Gottlieb whose ideas are unique in many ways. They inspired me to write this second memoir.
Lastly, I quote an unknown author:
Everyone is my teacher, Some I seek, Some I subconsciously attract.
Often I learn simply by observing others.
Some may be completely unaware that I am learning from them, yet I bow deeply in gratitude. This is how I feel about Bernice Gottlieb.
My Dream Land:
Kashmir
As a child, my family did not travel for pleasure. Bombay was our home, our confined space. When we did travel, we went to visit our relatives over the school holidays or to religious pilgrimage sites. At most, and rarely, when someone was recovering from a serious medical illness or emotional breakdown, we would take the ailing family member to a hill station , or mountainous resort town—if we could afford it—to get away from the daily stressors in Bombay and change climates. We went away to get away: it was an escape.
Throughout my childhood, I accompanied my grandmother on visits to Rajkot, Manavadar, and Limbuda – all located in the state of Gujarat, India. My grandmother’s brothers and their families lived there, and we all looked forward to spending time together over these summer vacations. But, I longed to experience more; I wondered what else was out there beyond the limits I began to see. I began to look for opportunities.
I first experienced wanderlust when I was fifteen years old. My all-girls high school in Mumbai sponsored a trip to Kashmir using a tour company. I had never travelled independently without a family member, and to put it simply, this was appealing, very appealing. I could finally expand those boundaries, and I began to learn about myself, that boundaries, limitations, any hold-up, there is always a way around, and I will find it. Now the boundary was convincing my traditional family, and of course paying for it.
I came home from school one day with an announcement of, and an itinerary for, the school trip, unabashedly revealing my intentions. The itinerary showed that we would travel by train, stay in student hostels or hotels, and do some sightseeing. One of our teachers was assigned to accompany twelve girls from my high school.
One morning, the principal met me in the hallway and said, You are going on this trip, right?
I hesitated to answer, knowing that my mother, grandfather, and grandmother would have serious reservations about allowing me to travel without family supervision. A fifteen year-old-girl, alone, in India, is traveling. At that time, a pipe dream.
From the time that my father passed away when I was five years old, my maternal grandparents had taken me, my mother, and my sister in to live with them. My maternal grandparents were my guardians, and I knew they wanted the best for me. But on the other hand, I wanted some independence, and I really wanted to take this school trip, real independence. No cell phones or internet, this was getting away. The thought of travelling with a group of friends was exciting to me, but I needed permission and money. My only hope was that if I could present this school trip to my paternal grandfather, who I called "Dadaji," to get his permission for this trip, and of course the help.
Dadaji was a stern-looking, highly intellectual man. As an attorney, trained during the era in which India was part of the British Empire, Dadaji was the first one in our community to be in the legal profession. He was feared by most of my family members. However, he believed in me, and supported my somewhat unconventional—at least for a woman in my family at the time—ambitions. He took a keen interest in my upbringing, my education, and my desires.
Although we did not live with Dadaji, he was not that far. He visited me every day and looked over my homework, stressing the importance of education and developing my intellect. Education is the one thing people cannot take away from you. On Sundays we went to his home, a trip of some sorts. He would ask me to read aloud The Times of India,
an English newspaper. He taught me to speak loud and clear
(a lesson I would carry with me throughout my life and pass on to my children and grandchildren) and corrected my pronunciation whenever it needed correction. He had high expectations from me and wanted me to be the best at everything I did.
One evening when he was visiting me, I summoned the courage to talk to him about the upcoming school trip. He responded with a big smile and said, You must go!
I will pay for the trip, and you will write to me from every place you visit.
This was a relief. He encouraged me to do things that others, especially girls in my family, had not done. I was thrilled. Before I even signed up for the trip, Dadaji was already in planning mode. Needless to say, he had the veto power in the family regarding most decisions that concerned me, my own personal guardian, the father figure I needed. Dadaji’s protection, and really influence, as it was, shaped the independent adventurer I am today. Perhaps it was his time in British India, or becoming a man of the law, probably the combination of both. But whatever it was, his vision of my future became the vision of my future. Colonialism or independence, he was a man ahead of his time.
After discussions with my maternal grandparents and my mother—and through their ensuing hesitations, I prevailed victoriously—I was finally signed up to go on this trip. My best friend, Amta, also was set to go and we were excited to have our first true independent adventure. I do not think we expected anything, other than seeing beyond the confines of our rearing.
As we began planning for the trip, Dadaji bought me a camera. He told me that I should tell him all about the trip through the photos that I took. I had never held a camera in my hands, let alone owned one. It was a big black box. I learned its features, but felt nervous about the task ahead of me. I was going out there on my own. Sure, we were in a safe and trusted program, but that was not on our minds, we were going on adventures like the stories we read and heard.
Finally, the day that we would begin our adventure arrived. We took a train as a group, accompanied by our teacher. My entire family came to the train station to see us off. We all got on the train and hung out from the windows to have a last glimpse of our family members. Dadaji yelled loudly: Don’t forget to write letters!
His voice quivered as he yelled. He must have had the same angst that my mother and my maternal grandparents felt, but overcame that uneasy feeling to let me go. I nodded yes,
and became tearful as the train set in motion. I was going to be away from home for two weeks, away from my loved ones and my familiar environment. Doubt crept in, but the excitement of the adventure set in, and we were off. I consumed everything.
On the train, we received frequent visits from our tour guide, Dinshaw, from the Lalla Tour Company, which we were travelling with. He was an attractive and charming young man. He sang English songs every night and taught them to us. We all joined him in a chorus. I still remember that Amta and I learned to sing Pat Boone’s song
"A Mocking Bird on the willow Tree, Looking for lovers below . . . .
Amta and I were young friends on our first adventure. We would giggle as we sang this song over and over again. The epitome was when we heard the line of this Pat Boone’s song:
"Nowthemoralisthis, if youwanttokiss . . . . we were hysterical.
It tickled us because neither of us had a boyfriend, nor had we kissed anyone before. Fifty five years ago, in India, dating was unheard of, and we were only budding teenagers. So we daydreamed about the Loving Prince
whom we would kiss someday. Amta and I bonded on this trip tremendously. We developed a friendship that has lasted for a lifetime.
The first stop on our trip was New Delhi. Our group was driven around the city to see the famous monuments. We saw the Red Fort, which is built with red sand stones, the India Gate, and Humayun’s tomb. We also visited Raj Ghat, which is a black marble platform that marks the spot where Mahatma Gandhi, the father of India, was cremated. At Raj Ghat, there is an eternal flame left open to the sky. It was a peaceful place that caused me to learn as much as I can about