I read this quote this morning and thought it was good enough to post :).
"To younger travelers: Don't embarrass us all by wearing a "Gamma Theta Phi 1st annual pole sitting and raw Pig-a-thon (Sponsored by Zeff's Auto Parts and WXLR 91 FM Golden Oldies Tower of Power Blast From Your Past Hot Hits) Bloomsburg State College, Greek Week Monster Blow-Out Bash 2007" plastered across your chest. Shirts like that confuse people in other countries. However, a discreet message confirming your concern for gay rainforest whales would not be amiss and may even score points with a young Euro."
-Thomas Neenan, "Let's Blow Through Europe"
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Are we there yet?
"Are we there yet?" This is the bookend phrase to my 15 splendid days in Nepal.
At first, I couldn't wait to get in. A long bus journey brought us to the border and with only minor obstacles (surprising how not having a measly $5usd can stop you in your tracks). Once across the border (checking off my 27th country!), we learned that Diwali or Dipawali, the fantastic festival of light and renewal that we had just celebrated on the Ganges in Varanassi, lasted a week in Nepal and therefore, most of the money changers, rickshaw drivers and busses were taking the holiday(s) off. Id been told repeatedly by everyone that I would find Nepal so much easier but I didnt see much of a difference yet!
Ignoring the locals trying to steer us onto the 'only' bus from the border that day, going to a different city than we wanted, we hired a rickshaw to take us to the local bus station - that was completely abandoned. One man sat behind the bars and told us that there might be a bus running to Pokhara in a couple hours, but he wasn't sure. Our luck held though and after a short wait, the little bus did arrive and accepted a full load of tourists with no options.
Another long bus ride took us into the heart of Nepal, lush green countryside, villages perched precariously on stilts off the edge of the winding road and people gathered together. Men on their haunches playing games, chewing and spitting paan, kids with toothy grins waving and playing with scraps and if we caught sight of women they were usually carrying something - always something to be carried somewhere. Staring out the window I tried to discern what distinguished Nepal and my first thoughts were one, the people seemed to fit. I don't think order is exactly the right word, but there was space in Nepal. Everything had not only space enough to exist, but to breath, move around... I could take a deep breath and not wonder how much of that "air" was sticking to my lungs. Also, literally right across the border, men started wearing a Nepali style hat. I saw fewer saris, but just as many salwar kamis on the women and a new style basket worn on the back but strung across the forehead - perfect for carrying.
We shared a taxi down to the tourist sector along the lake with a brilliant dutch girl, Brigitte, who would, although we didnt know it then, turn our duo into a trio and provide wonderful company the next two weeks. Sebastiaan and Brigitte decided they wanted to test the local rapids so while they were away rocking on whitewater (and flipping into icewater I later found out), I took the time alone to wander around the lake and hike up the surrounding hills to places like the World Peace Pagoda and a breathtaking view of some of the worlds highest mountains from the village of Sarangkot. It was absolutely ideal for me, blue skies, chatting with locals, playing with kids and of course stopping to take photographs whenever the moment touched me.
The colors were unusually saturated and while sitting in my
favorite lakeside cafe, savoring a fresh baked croissant, I honestly pondered the possibilty that there were two juxtaposed heavens right there in front of me. One for the paragliders and hawks to chase eachother in and one brought down for us to bathe and float in. Hills flanked the lake and faded slightly like open pages from a good book... Pokhara was a happy place for relaxing trekkers just about to leave or just returning from their respective journeys in the wild. It also offered me a reprieve from the cow revering country of India by serving up a thick juicy steak on my first night there :).
Sebastiaan returned with a stomach bug that wouldn't give up so he regretfully had to stay behind in Pokhara to get well while Brigitte and I set our sights on a 4 day trek to Poon Hill, supposedly the most impressive viewpoint of the entire famed Jomson Trek.
We each paid Rs2000 (about $35) for a permit to hike within the Annapurna range and also hired a porter for our things because, no we weren't being lazy, thats just what you do when you're in Nepal! Our porter turned out to be quite the character and almost a burden. He actually complained we were going too fast (and no, we did not give him bricks to carry. We gave him just one pack with essentials - honest)!
I must admit the hike did not exactly live up to my dream of an arduous, sweat inducing, adventure in the Himalaya. The first day, though pretty steep and ending in a long string of steps up, up, up, we never really got too far away from civilization. We walked from guesthouse to tiny village to tea house and passed too many people along the way. Once I got past my expectations though, it was a marvelous hike. The crowd thinned each day and we found more nature. Agriculture lands, rice being harvested, rivers, woods, rickety bridges and falls with rudimentary water collecting systems that were awesome to watch. Reminded me of the ol' gold panning days in the wild west... or at least movies Ive seen of those times ;).
Poon Hill made every other mountain vista hang their peaks in shame. We opted to hike there for sunset rather than sunrise to the protest of both our porter and hotel owner, "No, no, no, you go for sunrise, you go in the dark, frozen, morning, thats what everyone does..." We can always go again I thought and up we went. The sun set in front of the mountains, some of the highest in the world, so we were rewarded with ever-shifting hues sliding from gentle pastels to searing reds and oranges and the best part was - we had it all to ourselves! As opposed to the traffic jam we were told about in the morning with every other hiker in the area fighting to take pictures and climb the observation tower. We were quite pleased to stay in bed 'til the late hour of 7am :).
Brigitte was the perfect hiking partner as we spent an evenly proportioned time together chatting and apart, going our own paces, sometimes sharing our favorite songs from our ipods.
Each night, we stayed in quaint little tea lodges that felt like tree houses and served surprisingly delicious dishes by a fire and hot ginger lemon tea in the crisp mornings. It wasn't roughing it, that's for sure, but it was magical in its own right. Part exercise, part relaxing, part socializing... Lovely! On the last day down, I found a large flat rock in the middle of the river and I could not resist climbing out to it. The water cascaded all around me and little droplets bounced on a trampoline like crystal popcorn on either side. I have not been so completely content in a long time.
Once back in Pokhara, Sebastiaan was back in action and the three of us enjoyed some last comfort foods before we took a bus to Kathmandu. On first glimpse, it reminded me of Delhi with its slum-like dwellings and cement, lifeless building, but once we came closer to the heart of the city I realized it was nothing like it. In fact, once again, the space was what I noticed. Our hotel room had a balcony that looked out onto a square. Every morning, as I awoke around 6:30am, earlier than the others, I would watch the locals play badmitton, shops open, fresh chai being served (although I never found a real good chai in Nepal), uniformed kids on their way to school and various animals looking for breakfast. I also splurged a little on the many bakeries in town - my weakness ;).
Seeing the sights ended up being more expensive than anywhere in India, everything charged, even just walking through Durbar square was Rs250, but the sights are incredible. I have never seen so many temples and historic buildings packed into such a small area! Sitting up a long set of stairs and watching the parade of men carrying massive loads of mysteriously wrapped goods strapped to their heads, arguments instantly gathering crowds, kids weaving through traffic of people and rickshaws, tourists snapping photos left and right... Ahh, the life in this place! We also visited two very impressive Buddhist Stupas, one being the most recognizable symbol of Nepal, Swayambunath (nicknamed the monkey temple, rightfully so - one even snatched my chocolate away and seemed surprised when I tried to snatch it back!) It was a really peaceful place that I wish we would have spent more time at. I also quite enjoyed circumambulating the stupa at sunset with hundreds of people including monks, locals and a handful of tourists... for someone that doesn't have too many spiritual experiences, I could not deny the power created by the faithful.
Unfortunately, we were only given 15 day visas and our time was up so we looked into getting to Darjeeling. Travel agents were surprisingly friendly but unhelpful. They all told us that it would be cheaper to go ourselves to the bus station as hey would have to charge us an extra fee (yes, isnt that what travel agents do?) so we wandered out to the place that sold bus tickets, nothing was in english and most people insisted we couldnt even go that way because the monsoon this year had washed out the bridge. Better to take a 24hour journey out the side of Nepal and go all the way around they said. I, perhaps partly out of stubborness and partly out of intrigue in the challenge, decided I would rather chance it and go straight. We bought tickets to the river and off we went!
Once at the river, in the darkness of 5am, we were ushered onto another bus for the last couple kilometers to a bamboo foot bridge they had built over part of the river. Every step creaked and strained under the weight of me and my backpack and I imagined crashing through and being drug underwater - that was the most nerve-wracking crossing of my life! Next, we walked a couple K to the real crossing that had to be done with boats. We faced sheer chaos. People pushed and shouted to get a spot on overcrowded craft, as more and more arrived. Boatsmen argued over who was next and how many people were too many people. All of this with a backdrop of the sun rising over this calm river that had completely flooded the region not too long ago and left thousands without home, forced into flood victim tents. The rest of the region was a waste land. The worst part of this all, was that my intense interest in this whole scene was hampered by the fact that I desperately needed to 'use a restroom'! It was making me sick, but there was no place for a girl to go - Sebastiaan tried to shield me with my blanket but there were too many people on all sides that stopped to watch the second that the only foreigners did anything and I couldn't.
The boat finally left the shore, belching and sputtering the thickest black smoke towards the 20 or so people unlucky enough to have gotten a spot at the back of the boat. We disembarked into the water and walked another half K to a final small crossing and the busses onward.
You would think the adventure was over... The bus stopped an hour or two later in a small town behind several others. "There is a strike ahead". We are told... Great. Nobody knows when it will end, if it will end, "Go back the way you came" was their advice. Not a chance. We waited a couple hours until we noticed busses moving. Apparently they were all lining up and we were going to get a police escort... in maybe two more hours! Good thing Sebas and I are patient people. The only worry was that the border might close and we would have to pay a fine for our expired visas. By the way, the one good thing about this unscheduled stop was that I was finally able to find, literally, a hole in the ground with 4 walls around it - this marked 28 hours!!
Enter tourist bus full of 50+yr old Aussies- our saving grace. Sebas struck up a conversation with them and soon enough they had permission to go on and invited us to come with them! The only vehical larger than a motorcycle allowed on the road and police at various points riding on our roof or driving ahead of us, we made it through the turbulent area to the border! Are we there yet?? Almost! Paperwork completed, we strolled across the border and I could feel the Indian soil under my feet! Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed Nepal, but I tell ya, it was good to be back!
Sebastiaan and I spent a few days enjoying the famed hillstation of Darjeeling and besides of course sharing several pots of pure darjeeling tea, hiked around, read and relaxed before we took a memorable 8 hour ride on the World Heritage Toy Train (a trip that takes 3 hours by jeep) and parted ways in NJP. I had grown accustomed to having my dear friend around, we shared many good days together and it was strange to suddenly be on my own again. But there I was, waiting for my 11 hour overnight train to Calcutta, which was sold out of sleeper seats so I got to sit on a wooden bench surrounded by men releasing too many of their gasses... I never said travel was always enjoyable ;)
I've now got a couple days to explore Kolkata, a city less threatening than I expected, with deliciously cheap street food and the last bastion for hand-drawn rickshaws, before I board my 25th flight of the year to Bangkok (with a 25 hour layover in Dhaka)! I can't wait!
At first, I couldn't wait to get in. A long bus journey brought us to the border and with only minor obstacles (surprising how not having a measly $5usd can stop you in your tracks). Once across the border (checking off my 27th country!), we learned that Diwali or Dipawali, the fantastic festival of light and renewal that we had just celebrated on the Ganges in Varanassi, lasted a week in Nepal and therefore, most of the money changers, rickshaw drivers and busses were taking the holiday(s) off. Id been told repeatedly by everyone that I would find Nepal so much easier but I didnt see much of a difference yet!
Ignoring the locals trying to steer us onto the 'only' bus from the border that day, going to a different city than we wanted, we hired a rickshaw to take us to the local bus station - that was completely abandoned. One man sat behind the bars and told us that there might be a bus running to Pokhara in a couple hours, but he wasn't sure. Our luck held though and after a short wait, the little bus did arrive and accepted a full load of tourists with no options.
Another long bus ride took us into the heart of Nepal, lush green countryside, villages perched precariously on stilts off the edge of the winding road and people gathered together. Men on their haunches playing games, chewing and spitting paan, kids with toothy grins waving and playing with scraps and if we caught sight of women they were usually carrying something - always something to be carried somewhere. Staring out the window I tried to discern what distinguished Nepal and my first thoughts were one, the people seemed to fit. I don't think order is exactly the right word, but there was space in Nepal. Everything had not only space enough to exist, but to breath, move around... I could take a deep breath and not wonder how much of that "air" was sticking to my lungs. Also, literally right across the border, men started wearing a Nepali style hat. I saw fewer saris, but just as many salwar kamis on the women and a new style basket worn on the back but strung across the forehead - perfect for carrying.
We shared a taxi down to the tourist sector along the lake with a brilliant dutch girl, Brigitte, who would, although we didnt know it then, turn our duo into a trio and provide wonderful company the next two weeks. Sebastiaan and Brigitte decided they wanted to test the local rapids so while they were away rocking on whitewater (and flipping into icewater I later found out), I took the time alone to wander around the lake and hike up the surrounding hills to places like the World Peace Pagoda and a breathtaking view of some of the worlds highest mountains from the village of Sarangkot. It was absolutely ideal for me, blue skies, chatting with locals, playing with kids and of course stopping to take photographs whenever the moment touched me.
The colors were unusually saturated and while sitting in my
favorite lakeside cafe, savoring a fresh baked croissant, I honestly pondered the possibilty that there were two juxtaposed heavens right there in front of me. One for the paragliders and hawks to chase eachother in and one brought down for us to bathe and float in. Hills flanked the lake and faded slightly like open pages from a good book... Pokhara was a happy place for relaxing trekkers just about to leave or just returning from their respective journeys in the wild. It also offered me a reprieve from the cow revering country of India by serving up a thick juicy steak on my first night there :).Sebastiaan returned with a stomach bug that wouldn't give up so he regretfully had to stay behind in Pokhara to get well while Brigitte and I set our sights on a 4 day trek to Poon Hill, supposedly the most impressive viewpoint of the entire famed Jomson Trek.
We each paid Rs2000 (about $35) for a permit to hike within the Annapurna range and also hired a porter for our things because, no we weren't being lazy, thats just what you do when you're in Nepal! Our porter turned out to be quite the character and almost a burden. He actually complained we were going too fast (and no, we did not give him bricks to carry. We gave him just one pack with essentials - honest)!
I must admit the hike did not exactly live up to my dream of an arduous, sweat inducing, adventure in the Himalaya. The first day, though pretty steep and ending in a long string of steps up, up, up, we never really got too far away from civilization. We walked from guesthouse to tiny village to tea house and passed too many people along the way. Once I got past my expectations though, it was a marvelous hike. The crowd thinned each day and we found more nature. Agriculture lands, rice being harvested, rivers, woods, rickety bridges and falls with rudimentary water collecting systems that were awesome to watch. Reminded me of the ol' gold panning days in the wild west... or at least movies Ive seen of those times ;).
Poon Hill made every other mountain vista hang their peaks in shame. We opted to hike there for sunset rather than sunrise to the protest of both our porter and hotel owner, "No, no, no, you go for sunrise, you go in the dark, frozen, morning, thats what everyone does..." We can always go again I thought and up we went. The sun set in front of the mountains, some of the highest in the world, so we were rewarded with ever-shifting hues sliding from gentle pastels to searing reds and oranges and the best part was - we had it all to ourselves! As opposed to the traffic jam we were told about in the morning with every other hiker in the area fighting to take pictures and climb the observation tower. We were quite pleased to stay in bed 'til the late hour of 7am :).
Brigitte was the perfect hiking partner as we spent an evenly proportioned time together chatting and apart, going our own paces, sometimes sharing our favorite songs from our ipods.
Each night, we stayed in quaint little tea lodges that felt like tree houses and served surprisingly delicious dishes by a fire and hot ginger lemon tea in the crisp mornings. It wasn't roughing it, that's for sure, but it was magical in its own right. Part exercise, part relaxing, part socializing... Lovely! On the last day down, I found a large flat rock in the middle of the river and I could not resist climbing out to it. The water cascaded all around me and little droplets bounced on a trampoline like crystal popcorn on either side. I have not been so completely content in a long time.
Once back in Pokhara, Sebastiaan was back in action and the three of us enjoyed some last comfort foods before we took a bus to Kathmandu. On first glimpse, it reminded me of Delhi with its slum-like dwellings and cement, lifeless building, but once we came closer to the heart of the city I realized it was nothing like it. In fact, once again, the space was what I noticed. Our hotel room had a balcony that looked out onto a square. Every morning, as I awoke around 6:30am, earlier than the others, I would watch the locals play badmitton, shops open, fresh chai being served (although I never found a real good chai in Nepal), uniformed kids on their way to school and various animals looking for breakfast. I also splurged a little on the many bakeries in town - my weakness ;).
Seeing the sights ended up being more expensive than anywhere in India, everything charged, even just walking through Durbar square was Rs250, but the sights are incredible. I have never seen so many temples and historic buildings packed into such a small area! Sitting up a long set of stairs and watching the parade of men carrying massive loads of mysteriously wrapped goods strapped to their heads, arguments instantly gathering crowds, kids weaving through traffic of people and rickshaws, tourists snapping photos left and right... Ahh, the life in this place! We also visited two very impressive Buddhist Stupas, one being the most recognizable symbol of Nepal, Swayambunath (nicknamed the monkey temple, rightfully so - one even snatched my chocolate away and seemed surprised when I tried to snatch it back!) It was a really peaceful place that I wish we would have spent more time at. I also quite enjoyed circumambulating the stupa at sunset with hundreds of people including monks, locals and a handful of tourists... for someone that doesn't have too many spiritual experiences, I could not deny the power created by the faithful. Unfortunately, we were only given 15 day visas and our time was up so we looked into getting to Darjeeling. Travel agents were surprisingly friendly but unhelpful. They all told us that it would be cheaper to go ourselves to the bus station as hey would have to charge us an extra fee (yes, isnt that what travel agents do?) so we wandered out to the place that sold bus tickets, nothing was in english and most people insisted we couldnt even go that way because the monsoon this year had washed out the bridge. Better to take a 24hour journey out the side of Nepal and go all the way around they said. I, perhaps partly out of stubborness and partly out of intrigue in the challenge, decided I would rather chance it and go straight. We bought tickets to the river and off we went!
Once at the river, in the darkness of 5am, we were ushered onto another bus for the last couple kilometers to a bamboo foot bridge they had built over part of the river. Every step creaked and strained under the weight of me and my backpack and I imagined crashing through and being drug underwater - that was the most nerve-wracking crossing of my life! Next, we walked a couple K to the real crossing that had to be done with boats. We faced sheer chaos. People pushed and shouted to get a spot on overcrowded craft, as more and more arrived. Boatsmen argued over who was next and how many people were too many people. All of this with a backdrop of the sun rising over this calm river that had completely flooded the region not too long ago and left thousands without home, forced into flood victim tents. The rest of the region was a waste land. The worst part of this all, was that my intense interest in this whole scene was hampered by the fact that I desperately needed to 'use a restroom'! It was making me sick, but there was no place for a girl to go - Sebastiaan tried to shield me with my blanket but there were too many people on all sides that stopped to watch the second that the only foreigners did anything and I couldn't.
The boat finally left the shore, belching and sputtering the thickest black smoke towards the 20 or so people unlucky enough to have gotten a spot at the back of the boat. We disembarked into the water and walked another half K to a final small crossing and the busses onward.
You would think the adventure was over... The bus stopped an hour or two later in a small town behind several others. "There is a strike ahead". We are told... Great. Nobody knows when it will end, if it will end, "Go back the way you came" was their advice. Not a chance. We waited a couple hours until we noticed busses moving. Apparently they were all lining up and we were going to get a police escort... in maybe two more hours! Good thing Sebas and I are patient people. The only worry was that the border might close and we would have to pay a fine for our expired visas. By the way, the one good thing about this unscheduled stop was that I was finally able to find, literally, a hole in the ground with 4 walls around it - this marked 28 hours!!
Enter tourist bus full of 50+yr old Aussies- our saving grace. Sebas struck up a conversation with them and soon enough they had permission to go on and invited us to come with them! The only vehical larger than a motorcycle allowed on the road and police at various points riding on our roof or driving ahead of us, we made it through the turbulent area to the border! Are we there yet?? Almost! Paperwork completed, we strolled across the border and I could feel the Indian soil under my feet! Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed Nepal, but I tell ya, it was good to be back!
Sebastiaan and I spent a few days enjoying the famed hillstation of Darjeeling and besides of course sharing several pots of pure darjeeling tea, hiked around, read and relaxed before we took a memorable 8 hour ride on the World Heritage Toy Train (a trip that takes 3 hours by jeep) and parted ways in NJP. I had grown accustomed to having my dear friend around, we shared many good days together and it was strange to suddenly be on my own again. But there I was, waiting for my 11 hour overnight train to Calcutta, which was sold out of sleeper seats so I got to sit on a wooden bench surrounded by men releasing too many of their gasses... I never said travel was always enjoyable ;)
I've now got a couple days to explore Kolkata, a city less threatening than I expected, with deliciously cheap street food and the last bastion for hand-drawn rickshaws, before I board my 25th flight of the year to Bangkok (with a 25 hour layover in Dhaka)! I can't wait!
Monday, November 3, 2008
Sightseeing with Sebastiaan
Once again, I have a lot of catching up to do. With all the facinating things going on, that is truly a challenge, but this time I really am going to try my best to summarize!
Sebastiaan and I wasted no time in hitting the road as we left the comforts of Delhi on a tincan government bus to Agra. Along the way, we befriended Gabor, a nice hungarian that was biking though India with an occasional bus ride on the long stretches. We arrived late at night and while Sebas and I caught a rickshaw, Gabor raced behind us. I was really quite jealous that he had his own wheels - I miss a good workout terribly! In the morning we rose early to get the promised sunrise view of the Taj Mahal from our roof, but instead found a smoggy, faded outline of the famed mosoleum. The area around the Taj was cram-packed with ugly cement tenements and hotels, but the life going on was quite interesting to watch from above. We had one focus. This image we have seen so many times, all over the world, the whole reason we were here in the first place, was barely holding back the modern, conjested, ugly weight squeezing it from all sides. Kids were going to school and people were opening up shops, seemingly unaware of what was on the other side of that great wall - did they not realize they lived right next to the Taj Mahal? Of course they did, otherwise there would not be so many foreigners in their way.
We toured the sights. Agra Fort, the "baby taj", the river but most of our time was spent in awe of the great Taj Mahal and believe me, it is everything they say it is and more. I had my doubts. At $18 a ticket, its easily the most expensive sight in all of India and sometimes these places that are so over exposed can be disappointing but I could have spent the entire day just sitting on the clean white marble surrounding the Taj (everyone must remove their shoes before climbing up to the platform). My feet absorbed the energy, my imagination sparked and I had the rare sense that lifeless stone can be hewn by human heart and infused with spirit to emenate a timeless indescribable energy even now, 400 years later. I just wished I could appreciate it all by myself, somehow have a personal viewing... Im not often that impressed.
Sebas also got the chance to peddal our cycle rickshaw uphill and when we ran into our friend Gabor again after getting seperated he joined us for the Best Thali (typical Indian meal served on a metal plate with several small servings of various dishes - dal, mixed veg etc and chapati) in town, at a locals only place Id heard about. The same helpful local had convinced me to stop in Orchha on our way to Khajuraho which turned out to be incredible - it pays to listen to the locals!
Orchha, which means "hidden place", truly is like a secret garden. Everywere you looked, there were ruins of palaces and temples and one massive fort across the wide river running through town. While Sebas paid the Rs250 for the main sights, I chose to wander off into the countryside and explore the other hidden treasures Indiana Jones style. I followed some goats through an abandoned archway to a spot on the river where locals were doing laundry and hacked my way through overgrowth to an edifice whispering stories of its past... all to myself! I loved it!
Sebas had his first brush with Hinduism as we shared chai with the priest of a temple we came upon and beamed to me with his first tika (colorful blessing placed on the forehead). To my great disappointment, our schedule did not allow us to remain another day and we had to return to catch our bus to Khajuraho, famous for its Kama Sutra Temples.
The temples of Khajuraho had some of the most intricate carving I have seen in India and reminded me of the carvings of Copan in Honduras. The subect matter of course, differed vastly. To be honest though, it was not all ancient, wild sexual positions, but rather an open display of day to day life. It was more a celebration of woman with women writing letters, bathing, battle scenes, even agriculture - and yes, wild sexual positions. It was interesting to see some carvings covering their eyes, or looking away as well as some quite interested in what was going on - there was a lot of life and movement in that simple stone.
We met a young boy of about 12yrs old that helped us rent bikes and took us to the temples outside town. We spent a wonder afternoon peddaling around the old village, everything was SO photogenic but I didnt want to interupt the scene by pulling out my camera. I also discovered a new fruit called sandala in Hindi, maybe waterfruit in english? For those that know me, it was definitely a new fruit day in both senses of the phrase!
From there we took a bus and a train to Varanassi, Indias holiest city for Diwali, Indias biggest holiday. It is a celebration of light and the triumph of good over evil and one of the things Ive wanted to witness since I started learning about India. Although I believe its a place that does not reveal itself to most visitors, we were there during a special time and I think we had superb timing. As one of Indias largest cities we again encountered pollution and crowds and overwhelming smells. I was beginning to fear that Sebastiaan was going to take away a very negative view of the country Ive come to adore.
We explored the maze of alleyways, toured a silk factory, saw young boys that had been taken in from the street to learn the art of embroidery for free room and board, joined briefly in a cricket match with the backdrop of ancient temples (no matter how many times I play, Im still rubbish, but at least I didnt hold the bat like in baseball as Sebastiaan! ;) and finally made our way down to the dirty (to put it nicely) Ganges. We strolled along the ghats until we came to the main ghat where Sebas was convinced to get a whole-body, two-person massage while I people watched - there was so much to see! People with shaved heads coming to bathe after bringing their loved ones to the burning ghats, nearly naked yogis with dreadlock behives writhing atop their ash covered bodies, tourists with cameras pointed in all directions... again, such life!
We hired a boat to give us a tour and against my desires, we took a brief tour of the burning ghats. I was very uncomfortable there to say the least, the cessation of life there... I dont know, to a Hindu its the release of the spirit from the rebirth process so its a happy occasion, but for me... well too many thoughts to express here. I also dont hang out at cemeteries to watch burials, go figure.
The best part of our stay in Varanassi was upon returning to the main ghat we were ushured to another boat to watch the Diwali great puja (prayer ceremony). Again, I cant explain everything that happened here, but it was a magnificent sight, filled with color and fire and light and fireworks and music and chanting... As many people as could fit in the stairs and as many as had been lucky enough to be out on the water watched in a glow and immediately afterwards the whole city errupted in explosions. The Indians love their ear-bursting bombs! The great thing is that Ive seen plenty of fireworks in my time, but in the states its all very controlled. Here, I was getting showers of sparks coming down on my head from fire-fountains on rooftops. Rockets were shooting every-which way and around every corner we had to see if kids were covering their ears from a cherrybomb they had lit in the middle of the alley... at our feet. It was so much fun! We were invited to light fireworks on the rooftop of a shopkeeper and I know the sight and sound of pyrotechnics all around us and giant sparklers in our hands will be with me for a long time hence!
The next day we visited temples, Sebas witnessed the craze that came over a large group of boys at a parade we were watching when I was discovered and got a couple good pictures to prove it and finally a long trip (including our bus driving in the dark with no lights) brought us to the border of...
Nepal!!!
Sebastiaan and I wasted no time in hitting the road as we left the comforts of Delhi on a tincan government bus to Agra. Along the way, we befriended Gabor, a nice hungarian that was biking though India with an occasional bus ride on the long stretches. We arrived late at night and while Sebas and I caught a rickshaw, Gabor raced behind us. I was really quite jealous that he had his own wheels - I miss a good workout terribly! In the morning we rose early to get the promised sunrise view of the Taj Mahal from our roof, but instead found a smoggy, faded outline of the famed mosoleum. The area around the Taj was cram-packed with ugly cement tenements and hotels, but the life going on was quite interesting to watch from above. We had one focus. This image we have seen so many times, all over the world, the whole reason we were here in the first place, was barely holding back the modern, conjested, ugly weight squeezing it from all sides. Kids were going to school and people were opening up shops, seemingly unaware of what was on the other side of that great wall - did they not realize they lived right next to the Taj Mahal? Of course they did, otherwise there would not be so many foreigners in their way.
We toured the sights. Agra Fort, the "baby taj", the river but most of our time was spent in awe of the great Taj Mahal and believe me, it is everything they say it is and more. I had my doubts. At $18 a ticket, its easily the most expensive sight in all of India and sometimes these places that are so over exposed can be disappointing but I could have spent the entire day just sitting on the clean white marble surrounding the Taj (everyone must remove their shoes before climbing up to the platform). My feet absorbed the energy, my imagination sparked and I had the rare sense that lifeless stone can be hewn by human heart and infused with spirit to emenate a timeless indescribable energy even now, 400 years later. I just wished I could appreciate it all by myself, somehow have a personal viewing... Im not often that impressed.
Sebas also got the chance to peddal our cycle rickshaw uphill and when we ran into our friend Gabor again after getting seperated he joined us for the Best Thali (typical Indian meal served on a metal plate with several small servings of various dishes - dal, mixed veg etc and chapati) in town, at a locals only place Id heard about. The same helpful local had convinced me to stop in Orchha on our way to Khajuraho which turned out to be incredible - it pays to listen to the locals!
Orchha, which means "hidden place", truly is like a secret garden. Everywere you looked, there were ruins of palaces and temples and one massive fort across the wide river running through town. While Sebas paid the Rs250 for the main sights, I chose to wander off into the countryside and explore the other hidden treasures Indiana Jones style. I followed some goats through an abandoned archway to a spot on the river where locals were doing laundry and hacked my way through overgrowth to an edifice whispering stories of its past... all to myself! I loved it!
Sebas had his first brush with Hinduism as we shared chai with the priest of a temple we came upon and beamed to me with his first tika (colorful blessing placed on the forehead). To my great disappointment, our schedule did not allow us to remain another day and we had to return to catch our bus to Khajuraho, famous for its Kama Sutra Temples.
The temples of Khajuraho had some of the most intricate carving I have seen in India and reminded me of the carvings of Copan in Honduras. The subect matter of course, differed vastly. To be honest though, it was not all ancient, wild sexual positions, but rather an open display of day to day life. It was more a celebration of woman with women writing letters, bathing, battle scenes, even agriculture - and yes, wild sexual positions. It was interesting to see some carvings covering their eyes, or looking away as well as some quite interested in what was going on - there was a lot of life and movement in that simple stone.
We met a young boy of about 12yrs old that helped us rent bikes and took us to the temples outside town. We spent a wonder afternoon peddaling around the old village, everything was SO photogenic but I didnt want to interupt the scene by pulling out my camera. I also discovered a new fruit called sandala in Hindi, maybe waterfruit in english? For those that know me, it was definitely a new fruit day in both senses of the phrase!
From there we took a bus and a train to Varanassi, Indias holiest city for Diwali, Indias biggest holiday. It is a celebration of light and the triumph of good over evil and one of the things Ive wanted to witness since I started learning about India. Although I believe its a place that does not reveal itself to most visitors, we were there during a special time and I think we had superb timing. As one of Indias largest cities we again encountered pollution and crowds and overwhelming smells. I was beginning to fear that Sebastiaan was going to take away a very negative view of the country Ive come to adore.
We explored the maze of alleyways, toured a silk factory, saw young boys that had been taken in from the street to learn the art of embroidery for free room and board, joined briefly in a cricket match with the backdrop of ancient temples (no matter how many times I play, Im still rubbish, but at least I didnt hold the bat like in baseball as Sebastiaan! ;) and finally made our way down to the dirty (to put it nicely) Ganges. We strolled along the ghats until we came to the main ghat where Sebas was convinced to get a whole-body, two-person massage while I people watched - there was so much to see! People with shaved heads coming to bathe after bringing their loved ones to the burning ghats, nearly naked yogis with dreadlock behives writhing atop their ash covered bodies, tourists with cameras pointed in all directions... again, such life!
We hired a boat to give us a tour and against my desires, we took a brief tour of the burning ghats. I was very uncomfortable there to say the least, the cessation of life there... I dont know, to a Hindu its the release of the spirit from the rebirth process so its a happy occasion, but for me... well too many thoughts to express here. I also dont hang out at cemeteries to watch burials, go figure.
The best part of our stay in Varanassi was upon returning to the main ghat we were ushured to another boat to watch the Diwali great puja (prayer ceremony). Again, I cant explain everything that happened here, but it was a magnificent sight, filled with color and fire and light and fireworks and music and chanting... As many people as could fit in the stairs and as many as had been lucky enough to be out on the water watched in a glow and immediately afterwards the whole city errupted in explosions. The Indians love their ear-bursting bombs! The great thing is that Ive seen plenty of fireworks in my time, but in the states its all very controlled. Here, I was getting showers of sparks coming down on my head from fire-fountains on rooftops. Rockets were shooting every-which way and around every corner we had to see if kids were covering their ears from a cherrybomb they had lit in the middle of the alley... at our feet. It was so much fun! We were invited to light fireworks on the rooftop of a shopkeeper and I know the sight and sound of pyrotechnics all around us and giant sparklers in our hands will be with me for a long time hence!
The next day we visited temples, Sebas witnessed the craze that came over a large group of boys at a parade we were watching when I was discovered and got a couple good pictures to prove it and finally a long trip (including our bus driving in the dark with no lights) brought us to the border of...
Nepal!!!
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