India

Well, my time in India was exactly how everyone else had described their time in India to me: INTENSE. It seems to be right what everyone says that there is truly no other place like it in the world. Sure, there are McDonald's and movie theaters and taxis, but they serve McCurry (which is FOUL, by the way) and not Big Macs, and they show crazy singing, dancing Hindi movies and very few of the Western hits and the taxis? Just one more fight to try not to get ripped off. I think some people really revel in the different-ness of India and relish every moment of it, but I think the rest of us never lose our deer-in-the-headlights glazed-over look and just try to make it through.

In all fairness, I did see many, many wonderful and beautiful and even peaceful things in India AND many of my experiences were tainted by the fact that I was there at the worst time of year for visiting much of the country (i.e., summer).

I was in India for two months (May and June), and am quickly coming to view those two months as the apex of this entire journey. I feel older; I feel wiser; I feel more tired; I feel more travelled, cultured, road weary and bad ass. I feel like I have earned some stripes. AND, all this whilst having a travel partner and good friend with whom to commiserate and muddle through. Everyday men and women, more capable than I, brave the rickshaws and the buses of India on their own -- and I salute them. It's just difficult, and each person's different approach/style/attitude makes it that much easier or that much more difficult. I'm not 100% sure yet where I fall on that scale. Luckily, my friend and I have remarkably similar travelling styles (with me leaning slightly more towards to anal, overplanning side, and he towards the just-let-it-be side), and while I think we successfully achieved the roll-with-the-punches, what-will-be-will-be, I-guess-this-is-what-travelling-in-India-is-all-about attitude; neither one of us ever truly passed into the realm of actually enjoying rolling with the punches or arguing for a rickshaw fare.

*****

So, here I am looking back on two months that I expect/hope to be the most intense of my trip, and I am overhwelmed by the number of stories there are to tell and the number of pictures to share and the number of feelings to describe. I think I'll just be muddling through, same as in India itself, and see what happens.

Best horror story: To Manali and back
Due to poor planning, Justin and I rented a tent in Manali (which obviously had to be returned to Manali at some point) and then went to McLeod Ganj, where we ended up wanting to stay for a while. We used the tent on a trip up into the mountains near McLeod Ganj (where it suffered some damage in a storm, by the way, ripped fly, two broken poles), and then it was time to face the reality of having to go all the way back to Manali (11 hours by bus) simply to return the tent to the very nice man who made an exception to rent it to us in the first place and to get our security deposit back.
So, we're already prepared for this to be a difficult trip: 11 hours on an overnight bus there, do what we need to do during the day in Manali, 11 hours on an overnight bus back.
We get a cheap, local bus to Manali and it's a long, bumpy, crowded, noisy night, arriving in Manali about two hours early, just before sunrise, leaving us with even more time to kill in a town we don't particularly care for. We manage to kill the day and make it through, sheepishly explaining abut the damage to our tent, getting our full security deposit back anyway (phew, since not getting it back would have made this entire ordeal completely futile) and eating and reading (and, in Justin's case, playing chess). In making our return arrangements, we decide that it's worth it to pay up and take a deluxe bus back to Dharamsala (from where we will have to take a cab back to McLeod Ganj), which should mean more comfortable seats and fewer people crowded into the aisles. Unfortunately the only seats left on the bus are in the very back row (which, if you don't remember from your elementary shcool days, are the bumpiest seats on the bus, any bus). Of course, Justin's seat is broken and so with every bump the seat portion of it comes loose and slides forward. Once we're underway this appears to be the only problem set to plague us and there is a pair of seats still empty further up -- even better. We slip into those seats and rest easy for maybe an hour; I think I even get a wink or two of sleep at this point. Well, that reverie ended when a couple came on the bus whose seats we were sitting in, so it was time to move back to our designated seats, which were now being occupied by a sleeping child accompanied by a monk and another sleeping child, who the conductor (very unnecessarily) starts yelling at and makes a huge scene to get them out of our seats so we could get back in them. Turns out, the monk and his two sleeping boys do not have seats, plural; the three of them have A seat, namely the middle seat in the back row, next to me. All I know is that I have half of a very large, soft monk smushing against me and raising the side of my body up and out of my seat. This goes on with some adjusting and maneuvering (never making anyone's situation any better) for...a while. Finally, I fake sleep and all I know is that at some point I don't feel this huge body pushing up against me any more. When I do finally brave opening my eyes, I see this monk grinning up at me from the floor of the aisle with his two charges dead asleep in the middle seat. I feel like a complete idiot now, feleing responsible for the fact that this grinning, obviously none too bright, monk is sitting on the floor of an Indian bus (deluxe or no, the floor of an Indian bus is never a good place to be). BUT, I'm not prepared to switch with him, so that's that. (Meanwhile Justin is having a tussle of his own with the woman in front of him who sadistically has the whole back of her chair in his lap -- and being one of those guys who doesn't really fit on one of these buses built for small people to begin with, there's a tussle.)
It seems like things have reached some sort of equilibrium...until I notice that these two dead-asleep kids next to me are either smothering themselves in their too big jackets (on the already hot bus), sliding down into the small space between the monk and the seat (where I am sure they are going to get squashed) or being smothered by the next man over who is dead asleep himself and can't seem to sleep straight up or lean on his own wife. I find myself alternating between trying to lift sleeping kids up into slightly safe sleeping positions and nudging the next man over onto the other side; I guess now that the monk is fast asleep on the floor and I'm feeling responsible for him being there in the first place, somehow I think it necessary to shepherd his charges (but, really, he clearly had no idea about anything, so it was the only thing to be done).
Things once again have reached a sort of equilibrium; Justin and I are both stewing in our own discomfort; I've got my arm around this one little boy to keep him from obliterating the boy I assume is his brother; the bumps just keep on coming (the kind that make you think you're going to hit your head on the ceiling) and we've got at least 7 hours to go.
Things could have stayed like this the rest of the way, and for the most part did, with one blazing exception: as the road continued to twist and turn and bump, Justin and I suddenly found ourselves with vomit in our laps. One of the dead-asleep kids, suddenly woke up, bolted upright and vomitted directly into my lap and, by virtue of being my neighbor, Justin's lap as well. Back of the bus, nice and steamy, each jammed into our seats, middle of the night, with 4 more hours to go, there is absolutely nothing to be done. This is what I keep having to tell myself. I hear myself thinking: no, this isn't possible, there has to be someway to improve something right now. And I would dejectedly have to intervene in my own thoughts to remind myself to look around and admit: there was nothing to be done. I was tired, cranky, uncomfortable and covered in vomit and there wasn't a thing I could do about it until I was off that bus.
From here the story really takes its expected downward curve in drama, though it does take a while for the drama to end all together (it wasn't until about 11:00 the next morning that I got to take my vomit-encrusted jeans off -- which had at least one official dingleberry hanging off the calf). The bus arrived at 2:00 in the morning (early, again), leaving us stranded without a place to stay and everything closed; we slept on a couch in the courtyard of a guesthouse (after searching in vain for a bed), collected our belongings from our original guesthouse, got some sustenance and made our way up to our new home, in Bhagsu (all in vomit-y jeans); walked to our new guest house and collapsed and finally took a shower.
The cherry on the vomit for me? My beloved, lime-green REI fleece jacket was left on that wretched bus and I miss it very much.

Best happy story: Cooking classes with lovely Rita!

Justin and I took about 4 classes with lovely Rita in Bhagsu (outside of Dharamsala) to learn North Indian cooking and it was the best food we ate on our whole trip. As it turned out, we were really just in the kitchen watching her make these wonderful dishes and helping every once in a while, but mostly just trying to keep up with what she was doing and making sure we were writing it down correctly. The highlight of the classes though was Rita herself. She turned out to be this perfectly blunt, un-self-conscious, hilarious woman who seemed to find us pretty amusing. So, with her eyebrow raises and her funny Punjabi imitations (ap ke se ho?), she made us the smoothest, richest Malai Kofta ever, the heartiest Shahi Paneer and I was very sad when we ran out of things to make and it was time to say goodbye to Rita.

Best purchase: My marble tabletop

Yep, that's it. [I'm hoping you're seeing a picture of me holding my new inlaid marble tabletop.] While visiting the Taj Mahal I was taken by how beautiful some of the artwork is done today by descendants of the men who originally did all the marble and stone work on the Taj Mahal. After looking around their studios, I just couldn't keep myself from this exquisitely intricate and fine piece, most likely to be something that will live a lot longer than I will.

Best transportation: Bus from Dehradun to Rishikesh, Motorbike in Hampi
Despite all my bitching and moaning about transportation, I did have two wonderful transportation experiences. The first was when Justin and I rented a motorbike in Hampi for an afternoon and finally had some freedom!! Not to mention some breeze. We were able to just cruise around the sights, drive right by the touts trying to sell us whatever and then explore all the little villages strewn out across that area, where it seemed that we were an unusual and welcome sight. Everyone we passsed in one of these villages had to look up and smile and say hi or hello or wave or chase after us; it was a very bright, happy, free afternoon in the middle of facing a lot of poverty and sadness and depravity, really.
To get to Rishikesh we (Justin, a new friend, Chris, and I) had to take a second bus to get the last 45 kilometers or so, and none of us was looking forward to cramming into one more steamy bus after just sitting in one for the last 15 hours. Solution: the roof! Talk about breeze! And, just like with the motorbike, we were making happy spectacles of ourselves and most everyone had a wave or a smile or a laugh for us. It just made everything that much more bearable.

Best picture spot: Triund

The hike Justin and I took up out of McLeod Ganj had us headed towards a pass we were going to cross out and over to another ridge. The pass had too much snow on it, so we ended up staying 5 days at the site we reached on day 1: Triund. It was almost to the highest point of a ridge and had spectacular views all around; plus there were a couple of tea stalls up there with basic supplies, so we could stay there without having to worry about food and whatnot. Anyway, it was just the most picturesque and quiet setting I encountered in India, including its own host of characters who came and went. As you started to follow the ridge straight down, it was like being on the Sound of Music set. And as you continued to follow the ridge all the way to the top it became more and more mountainy, rocky and simply stunning.

*****

Itinerary and notes:
- Mumbai HOT, dirty, loud, crowded, got a cold, tried to get out out out of there, took 3 days
- Bus to Goa HOT, dirty, loud, crowded, had a cold, 16 hours
- Palolem, Goa HOT, nice water for swimming and waves for playing, loud with Indian tourists, still have a cold, rainstorm and no solid roof waterlogged everything we owned and our bed for the night, misery, switch to swank room, yeah!, found yummy german apple cake, yeah!, 3 days
- Train to Hampi finally off the bus track and onto train, HOT, dirty, loud, crowded, still have a cold, ~6 hours
- Hampi HOT, strikingly gorgeous surroundings, reddish brown boulders form the horizon, ruins of temples and cities, lots of beggars, still have a cold, rented a motorbike and had some freedom (and breeze) for a day, yeah!, 3 days
- Train to Bangalore finally have the train system figured out and both get a good night's sleep and arrive in Bangalore in the morning!, 12 hours
- Bangalore just killing time until our flight, still have a cold, 12 hours in Bangalore was probably 6 hours too many, saw The Passion
- Fly to Leh via Delhi bit the bullet and bought plane ticket out of boiling heat, one overnight in the hot, noisy Delhi airport, and then the most amazing flight ever into the Himalayas to the highest airport in the world, get off the plane in flip-flops into just-above-feezing temperatures, CAN FINALLY BRETAHE AGAIN! (and cold finally going away)
- Leh main city in Ladakh, region just East of Kashmir though without its political unrest, just West of Tibet, strong Tibetan cultural influences without strong political agenda regarding refugees, cool nights and warm days, surrounded by the Himalayas on all sides, beautiful Shanti Stupa built on mountainside which can see out our window, prayer flags everywhere, friendly people everywhere, beggars nowhere, not considered India at all and for good reason, very few travellers as the only way in is to fly until the snow melts on the mountain passes, 2 weeks
- Likir trek short 2-day, 3-night trek through desert-y mountains and between teeny, tiny villages (from Likir to Temisgam), left Leh with no map and little food due to (slightly misguided) advice, got VERY lucky our first night and ran into a German guy teaching English in a monastery who led us to a family guest house, best accomodation experiences (from cultural perspective) on this trek
- Jeep to Manali the highest motorable pass in the world (Tanglangla, 5,300 meters), it was truly like being on the Indiana Jones ride in Disneyland for 16 hours, no buses going because the passes still have a bit of snow, 5 jeeps practically racing each through the night on these twisty, narrow mountain "roads," one jeep rolled onto its side after taking a curve too quickly (everyone was ok)
- Manali town near mountains further South in Himmachal Pradesh, LOTS of travelers, LOTS of Israelis (though true in most places), just a place to hang out, 2 days
- Jeep to Dharamsala/McLeod Ganj two strange drivers who let the jeep coast most of the 8-hour ride, very annoying
- McLeod Ganj Dalai Lama's current home base, large Tibetan refugee population, politically charged atmosphere, lots of markets and crafts and movies(!), lots of people and cars and trucks and honking, 6 days
- Triund trek hike out of McLeod Ganj to nearby ridge, planning to make a long trek over nearby pass and onto other range, but too much snow to cross without equipment, just stay up on the ridge top for ~ 4 days to savor the quiet and finally be able to just relax outdoors and enjoy, amazingly beautiful
- Bhagsu smaller town just up the hill from McLeod Ganj, quieter place to spend time than McLeod Ganj, total hippie enclave, took cooking class with lovely Rita!!, took a little yoga and meditation with (it turns out) a sort of shady swami, 2 weeks
- Bus to Rishikesh picked up another co-traveler along the way for the 15-hour bumpy, local bus ride, possible nerve damage to my ass :)
- Rishikesh HOT, loud, dirty, center for yoga on the Ganges (supposedly clean enough to swim in there, but I certainly wasn't going to find out), high season for Indian tourists so crowded, very carnival/Disney-like atmosphere, 3 days
- Delhi HOT, loud, dirty, preparing to leave (getting Chinese visa in order), killing time, coffee shops, crazy traffic, good food (when you pay up for it), 1 week
- Train to/from Agra HOT, crowded, uncomfortable, home of the Taj Mahal, 3 hours
- Taj Mahal yes, it's beautiful, not the inspiring event I've heard others talk about, just like everyhwere else too many people can be a real distraction from a good thing, although beautiful enough to inspire me to drop a wad of cash on a small inlaid marble tabletop made in the same method/style, 1 day
- Out of Delhi and onto Hong Kong! (and, of course, got a cold)

NEXT STOP: China!!