We are just twelve hours away from my mom's departure and although much more could still happen (this is India and as the locals say, "ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE"), I can begin to put some of the last two weeks into perspective. Kristen and I both were totally impressed with my mom and her ability to just let go and go with the ultra-chaotic flow of India (as I am sure you all know, not being in charge is not an easy thing for her to do). All in all, she was a real trooper. I jotted down some of our favorite "Karen/Mom" highlights from the trip. Here they are...
*On my mom's first day in India, she and I (Doug) decided to take the metro (New Delhi's newest subway system) from the heart of New Delhi's business district (CP) to our neighborhood hotel (Karol Bagh). The metro train was literally overflowing with people, so much so that the train doors wouldn't close because there were people hanging out of it. Well, my mom took my arm, and I put an elbow out and dug us a little niche in the middle where we spent the next fifteen minutes enjoying the ambience of far too many Indians' armpits in our faces.
*Earlier that same day, my mom and I were walking the long open strip between New Delhi's India Gate and the Rasthrapati Bhawan (Presidential Palace). The high that day was about 116 and despite the fact that she was jetlagged and overheating, my mom (being the ultra stubborn woman that you know she is) refused to stop walking and take a rickshaw to our next destination. Finally, her body began to cave in (her face was near purple at this point), but her mind still wouldn't and I literally had to tell her to sit down while I went and found a rickshaw. When we finally arrived at the National Museum, I remember sitting down to eat with her and thinking to myself: "Now I know where I get my stubborn behavior from..."
*A few days later, we were at the Attari-Wagah (India-Pakistan) border ceremony. In order to watch the closing of the border gates, you sit on these large concrete bleachers. Well, the weather that day was particularly hot (118 F) and our concrete seats were more like hot plates under the afternoon sun. After a few minutes of sitting, my mom suddenly stands up, takes her bottle of water and begins pouring it all over seat. Much to everyone's amusement (we were surrounded by mostly Indians and some Korean businessmen), she then preceded to plop her bottom back down on this big puddle. The Korean man next to her said, "What you doing? You going to get all wet!" She turned to him and said with all seriousness, "Do you want some? It feels great!" He looked at her as if he was crazy and all around us these Indian women were laughing hysterically. I slowly pulled my hat over my head, trying to act like I was alone...(for the record, the water trick didn't work and minutes later, my mom was complaining that the seat was too hot again, so I gave her my wallet to sit on.)
*There are monkeys just about everywhere in India and in Mcleod Ganj, the small hillstation in the Himalayas where Kristen and I live, there are more than usual. They can be a real nuisance at times, but most of the time they just do their thing and you do yours. But teaching this to my mom was a different story. One night after dinner, she, Kristen and I went to a nice ice cream shop that has a big balcony overlooking the main square. We chose a seat at the edge so we could get the best view. Minutes into our meal, this large monkey carrying a Chapati (Indian flat bread) in his hand began leisurely approaching my mom from behind her. The monkey was walking on the railing (which our table was propped up against) so I tried to give my mom some warning without scaring her. I said, "mom, don't freak out, but look to your left very slowly." She turned and almost threw her ice cream in the air. The monkey had no interest in us and walked right by. This sort of thing takes a while to get used to, and apparently my mom did get used to it, because yesterday at Agra's Red Fort, she actually posed for a photo next to some baby monkey's, which had I asked her to do that two weeks ago, she would have looked at me like I was crazy.
*Above the city of Leh in Ladakh (elevation 11,800 ft) is a large modern World Peace Stupa built by the Japanese Buddhist organization Nipponzon Myohoji. It is quite the climb to get the top of it (I'm not sure how many steps, but at least 700 or so) and my mom was intent on making it to the top in order to tie Buddhist prayer flags (lung ta) for her friends and family. As we were going up, Kristen and I both thought she might collapse, but again with her characteristic drive and stubbornness, she slowly, slowly, made it to the top. Shanti Stupa is over 14,000 ft, so for those you who don't know, she actually crossed another item off her bucket list (climbing a 14'er). The fact that she made it to the top of this craggy beast, is testament to her love and compassion for her friends. I could tell that she was doing this for her friends and family, whose names she wrote on the prayer flags the monk and I hoisted over the Tibetan plateau underneath us. We should all be thankful to have someone like her in our lives...
*I"m out of time here but there are many many more and these will have to wait for another day...
Thursday, May 27, 2010
On the road to Agra.....
During the five plus hours we spent driving from Delhi to Agra I jotted down simple sentences, words, phrases about what I saw looking out the car window.
Here are some of my rambling, unedited observations and thoughts.
We have gone from night to day......(leaving Leh - arriving in Delhi)
Sharing the same road: cars, cabs, rickshaws, buses, trucks, bicycles, carts pulled by donkeys, cattle, camels and man, even saw a "holy man" walking
The road is a symphony of horns....with no conductor!
Four lanes roads with vehicles trying to Jockey into making it 7-9 lanes. Craziness!
Old Ambassador cars, black and white with curtain's over the back windows...wonder who is inside?
Barefoot woman on rocks, sleeping along side the road
Construction worker's children from Bihar playing in the construction debris along the road with no one watching them
Modern building's next to shacks
South Delhi- seemed nicer, more affluent
Despite the heat , it was 36 degrees C at 9:30 in the morning, flowering trees with shades of pink and white flowers blooming.
Barefoot boys pushing over filled push carts along the road
Passed a slum - terrible poverty - stench in the air
Buses passing us ready to explode with people
Outskirts of Delhi: industrial, expanding the metro, building everywhere
Driving for 1 1/4 hours and we still are not outside of Delhi
Camel walking along side the road no one with it.....who does it belong to? (Did I mention that I saw an elephant pulling a fallen tree in Atari?)
Abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables in the open markets...do people have money to pay for it?
Men and women walking with bundles and jugs on their heads
Truck load of women in bright colored, shinny sari's in front of our car
Sign says 156 KM to Agra, we are getting closer....if only the traffic would move
Men along side the road sleeping on rope cots.
Cows, water buffalo and now some sheep on the roa
Doug offered our driver some dried apricots from Kashmir,,,,he asked what it was, said he had never seen one and then said he was Hindu and was worried it might be meat.
I asked the driver what was growing in the field's..he told me they have three crops a year in this part of India: wheat mustard and then vegetables.
We are on a tollway: 35 rupees.....I hope it means we will go faster
In between Delhi and Agra is where Krishna lived (with this cow Herder girls)
Plastic bottles, plastic bags and garbage EVERYWHERE you look.
The sky isn't blue, it is gray because of all the pollution.
Agra is now 114 KM away, we stop to pay the UTTAR PRADESH tax, while the driver is inside men are knocking on the windows trying to sell us peacock fans, jewelry, window covers.....trying to ignore them.
Entering Agra: Population 1.2 million people...they all must be on the side of the road and in the streets......masses of humanity everywhere.
I hope some of the above makes sense.....sometimes it is just impossible to describe what India is like....the people, the heat, the animals, the garbage, the strange languages somehow it all acts like a drug and it all becomes addictive. I can honestly say, there is plenty I don't like about this place but at the same time, there is something that makes it exotic seductive and I want to come back for more.
Here are some of my rambling, unedited observations and thoughts.
We have gone from night to day......(leaving Leh - arriving in Delhi)
Sharing the same road: cars, cabs, rickshaws, buses, trucks, bicycles, carts pulled by donkeys, cattle, camels and man, even saw a "holy man" walking
The road is a symphony of horns....with no conductor!
Four lanes roads with vehicles trying to Jockey into making it 7-9 lanes. Craziness!
Old Ambassador cars, black and white with curtain's over the back windows...wonder who is inside?
Barefoot woman on rocks, sleeping along side the road
Construction worker's children from Bihar playing in the construction debris along the road with no one watching them
Modern building's next to shacks
South Delhi- seemed nicer, more affluent
Despite the heat , it was 36 degrees C at 9:30 in the morning, flowering trees with shades of pink and white flowers blooming.
Barefoot boys pushing over filled push carts along the road
Passed a slum - terrible poverty - stench in the air
Buses passing us ready to explode with people
Outskirts of Delhi: industrial, expanding the metro, building everywhere
Driving for 1 1/4 hours and we still are not outside of Delhi
Camel walking along side the road no one with it.....who does it belong to? (Did I mention that I saw an elephant pulling a fallen tree in Atari?)
Abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables in the open markets...do people have money to pay for it?
Men and women walking with bundles and jugs on their heads
Truck load of women in bright colored, shinny sari's in front of our car
Sign says 156 KM to Agra, we are getting closer....if only the traffic would move
Men along side the road sleeping on rope cots.
Cows, water buffalo and now some sheep on the roa
Doug offered our driver some dried apricots from Kashmir,,,,he asked what it was, said he had never seen one and then said he was Hindu and was worried it might be meat.
I asked the driver what was growing in the field's..he told me they have three crops a year in this part of India: wheat mustard and then vegetables.
We are on a tollway: 35 rupees.....I hope it means we will go faster
In between Delhi and Agra is where Krishna lived (with this cow Herder girls)
Plastic bottles, plastic bags and garbage EVERYWHERE you look.
The sky isn't blue, it is gray because of all the pollution.
Agra is now 114 KM away, we stop to pay the UTTAR PRADESH tax, while the driver is inside men are knocking on the windows trying to sell us peacock fans, jewelry, window covers.....trying to ignore them.
Entering Agra: Population 1.2 million people...they all must be on the side of the road and in the streets......masses of humanity everywhere.
I hope some of the above makes sense.....sometimes it is just impossible to describe what India is like....the people, the heat, the animals, the garbage, the strange languages somehow it all acts like a drug and it all becomes addictive. I can honestly say, there is plenty I don't like about this place but at the same time, there is something that makes it exotic seductive and I want to come back for more.
To quote Mark Twain.....
"In India "cold weather" is merely a conversational phrase and has come into use through the necessity of having someway to distinguish between weather which will melt a brass door knob and weather which will only make it mushy." Mark Twain said this of India during his trip around the equator. It was true then, true now and most likely be true until the end of the world.
At four o'clock this afternoon we went to view The Agra Fort, one of the finest Mughal forts in India. The Agra Fort (a.k.a.: Red Fort) is massive and constructed of red sandstone. The fort was originally constructed as a military fort, turned into a palace and eventually the gilded prison which Shah Jahan spent the last eight year's of his life , after he was deposed and imprisoned by his son Aurangzeb. I think I failed to mentioned that after Shah Jahan's death his son did allow his body to be buried next to his beloved wife in the Taj Mahal.
Enough of my new found and limited knowledge of Indian Mughal history.....THE HEAT, oh my gosh, I can't believe how hot is was outside. Kristin walked (or I should say "tried to walk" she was surrounded by Indian's wanting their picture taken with her, wanting their children to be photographed next to her or just wanting to talk to her.....she was more popular than a Bollywood star) with an umbrella shading her and DFO gave me his hat to wear as we toured the fort. Doug, again, was our guide (for those of you who don't know, DFO studied a lot of Indian history in graduate school and he has brought his Rustic Pathway student's here for several years) and provided us with a good history lesson. The problem with getting there at four was that the fort closed as sunset, that fact, coupled with the intense heat made it impossible for us to see more than a quarter of this massive structure.
Speaking of the heat again......D and K are at the pool enjoying the last full day at the Taj. Tomorrow morning we are going back to Delhi and then unfortunately I leave on the midnight flight back to Chicago. We are having the driver drop us off at the hotel where D&K will spend the night before taking a train back to MG. It has been a dream come true as far as I'm concerned....India remains on my bucketlist.....there is just too much to see in one visit.
At four o'clock this afternoon we went to view The Agra Fort, one of the finest Mughal forts in India. The Agra Fort (a.k.a.: Red Fort) is massive and constructed of red sandstone. The fort was originally constructed as a military fort, turned into a palace and eventually the gilded prison which Shah Jahan spent the last eight year's of his life , after he was deposed and imprisoned by his son Aurangzeb. I think I failed to mentioned that after Shah Jahan's death his son did allow his body to be buried next to his beloved wife in the Taj Mahal.
Enough of my new found and limited knowledge of Indian Mughal history.....THE HEAT, oh my gosh, I can't believe how hot is was outside. Kristin walked (or I should say "tried to walk" she was surrounded by Indian's wanting their picture taken with her, wanting their children to be photographed next to her or just wanting to talk to her.....she was more popular than a Bollywood star) with an umbrella shading her and DFO gave me his hat to wear as we toured the fort. Doug, again, was our guide (for those of you who don't know, DFO studied a lot of Indian history in graduate school and he has brought his Rustic Pathway student's here for several years) and provided us with a good history lesson. The problem with getting there at four was that the fort closed as sunset, that fact, coupled with the intense heat made it impossible for us to see more than a quarter of this massive structure.
Speaking of the heat again......D and K are at the pool enjoying the last full day at the Taj. Tomorrow morning we are going back to Delhi and then unfortunately I leave on the midnight flight back to Chicago. We are having the driver drop us off at the hotel where D&K will spend the night before taking a train back to MG. It has been a dream come true as far as I'm concerned....India remains on my bucketlist.....there is just too much to see in one visit.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Prayer Flag's flying over Leh
Before sunset Doug, Kristen and I climbed to the Shanti Stupa, a large Buddhist shrine which was erected by the Japanese, Nipponzan Myohojia. This group plans to erect similar Buddhist shrine's all around the world. They will all be identical and presently there are now twelve in the world. Perhaps fifteen feet below the Stupa is a place where Doug flew prayer flags for David in 2003. We brought prayer flags and a bold, black magic marker to write the names of several of you on the flags and fly them above Leh. There is a monk, who was on a retreat living near the stupa and he was standing near the flying flags as we approached the area. Doug and the monk tied the flags in the same location he did six years ago. He also asked the monk to say prayers and to bless and consecrate the names we placed on the flags. As he prayed and chanted, the monk waved incense over the flags. It was a very spiritual and emotional experience and for those of you who's names are flying high above Leh, I hope the God of us all will remember you.
When the monk was finished (Kristen and I both crying) praying, he asked us if we would like some tea and to see the temple. He took us into a small temple, built only ten years ago and then asked if we would like to see the relics of The Buddha, which was given to the temple by a benefactor from Singapore. He stepped on to a small stool, put his hand around a crystal container about eighteen inches high and handed it to Douglas. I think Kristen and I both stopped breathing at this point, afraid that DFO would drop the container! The monk climbed down, took the container and then proceeded to open it. He told us that what we were looking at was a small piece of The Buddha's brain and bone fragments. He then closed it up, had DFO (we stopped breathing AGAIN) help him put it back in it's place. After thanking him for showing us the temple and relics, we went to the shelter where he lives and had black tea (I was worried that it would be butter tea) and cookies. After a nice exchange we took our leave, thanked him and then continued to climb up to the Shanti Stupa.
Once again, I have been given an opportunity that is not afforded to the average tourist......This was the perfect ending to my introduction and stay in Leh. Like MG, Leh is not what you would think of as India. The best example of this is comparing New York, LA or Chicago to a small town in Wisconsin, Colorado or Vermont.
When the monk was finished (Kristen and I both crying) praying, he asked us if we would like some tea and to see the temple. He took us into a small temple, built only ten years ago and then asked if we would like to see the relics of The Buddha, which was given to the temple by a benefactor from Singapore. He stepped on to a small stool, put his hand around a crystal container about eighteen inches high and handed it to Douglas. I think Kristen and I both stopped breathing at this point, afraid that DFO would drop the container! The monk climbed down, took the container and then proceeded to open it. He told us that what we were looking at was a small piece of The Buddha's brain and bone fragments. He then closed it up, had DFO (we stopped breathing AGAIN) help him put it back in it's place. After thanking him for showing us the temple and relics, we went to the shelter where he lives and had black tea (I was worried that it would be butter tea) and cookies. After a nice exchange we took our leave, thanked him and then continued to climb up to the Shanti Stupa.
Once again, I have been given an opportunity that is not afforded to the average tourist......This was the perfect ending to my introduction and stay in Leh. Like MG, Leh is not what you would think of as India. The best example of this is comparing New York, LA or Chicago to a small town in Wisconsin, Colorado or Vermont.
Taj Mahal
In order to escape the heat of the day (115 degrees) our driver picked us up at 5:30 a.m. and drove us to the Taj Mahal. The gates opened at 6:00 a.m. and their were no lines and relatively few tourist. The vendor kid's were already there; selling everyting from T-shirts, Taj books, Taj keychains, marble boxes, refrig magnets, you name it they had it! The bulk of these kids probably have never been inside the gates and actually seen the Taj Mahal. They are probably able to hawk their wares in five languages.
Doug was our tour guide and able to give us the history of The Taj Mahal. A brief summary is the building was commisioned by the Mogul Emperor, Shah Jahan, to house the remains of his favorite (yes....he had multiple wives) Muntaz Mahal. The Emperor, Shah Jahan, was able to see the monument completed from his jail cell in The Red Fort (which we are going to later on today). Shah Jahan was jailed and over-thrown by his son, Aurangzeb. The producer's of cable TV Reality shows would have had a field day with this dysfunctional family!
The Taj Mahal was timelessly beautiful, majestic and walking through the first gate and actually seeing it with the linear pools and walks projecting your eye's right to the center of the mass marble structure was a visually emotional esperieince. It is the best example of Islamic architecture in India and all Indian's regardless of their religion take pride in it. During the Second World War the structure itself was covered to try and camofloge it fromm being a possible bombing target, the same was true during India's two wars with Pakistan. There was a security check to get into the park and military protection outside of it as well as on the perimiter.
The backside of The Taj has a river running behind it (I should remember the name, Doug will be disappointed in me that I don't, but it is a tributary of the Ganji River. The river is very low, waiting for the monsoon season to fill it but there were a few water buffalo wading in it's water and an occasional garland floating. Doug said the garland's could be from a burial or perhaps from a morning Hindi Pujab. There were a few monkey's roaming around and we saw two water buffalo pulling a lawn mower cutting the grass. We heard many different languages being spoken and as we were told by our driver, most of the early morning tourist are western. He said Indian's don't want to get up that early in the morning and Kristen commented that the Indian's tolerate the heat better.
I'm back at the hotel right now. We all enjoyed a wonderful Indian/Western breakfast. This is the first time I have allowed myself to eat fresh fruit (I have had bananas) and it tasted really good. I hope I won't be sorry but I figure that a big hotel catering to foreigner's has to be careful about food preparation and sanitation. D&K are taking a nap before they cool off in the pool this afternoon. Their suite has a desk area, a dinning area (we had lunch served there yesterday after arriving here) a nice living room area, a bedroom with a huge four poster bed and a bathroom that is about the size of their entire MG apartment. The living room has a book case with books about India which DFO is enjoying purusing. The furnishing's are what would have been typical of the day's when Britian controlled India with the addition of the beautiful colors and fabric's which are definately Indian. I would love to bring yards and yards of fabric home and use them to accent and decorate my house.
Yesterday, late afternoon, the sky was filled with what looked like birds fluttering in the air. Doug pointed out to me that they were kites and as it got closer to dawn their would be more. Just like in Kabul, Afghanistan (remember the book THE KITE RUNNER) Indian's here in the old section of Agra love to fly kites. I'm looking forward to watching them later on today, that is if the pollution clears up.....we are about a quarter of a mile from The Taj and yesterday the pollution did not prevent you from seeing it.....today you can't.
When we were driving here from Delhi yesterday I commented to Kristen that if you asked an Indian child (from Delhi or Agra and probably other industrial large cities) what color is the sky, they would answer gray. The pollution from gasoline engine's and industry hangs over this area and indeed, the sky is gray. When were were driving through Mathura, India yesterday our driver was telling us that they government made a big refinery cut their production in half because the pollution was making the marble of the Taj turn black. Mathura, the sight of pivotal ancient battles with different empire's during Indian history was about an hour away from Agra.
The trip to India has taught me many things and first amoung them is about the environment. At home, I TRY and re-cycle, conserve natural resourses, etc. Here, I have seen first hand what happens when you don't. The pollution, the in-ability to re-cycle plastic (which has to be the curse of the third world) and over population would make any skeptic alter their thinking. Garbage is everywhere and living with it becomes as "normal" as living with green grass and flower's in a short period of time.........that is really scarry
Doug was our tour guide and able to give us the history of The Taj Mahal. A brief summary is the building was commisioned by the Mogul Emperor, Shah Jahan, to house the remains of his favorite (yes....he had multiple wives) Muntaz Mahal. The Emperor, Shah Jahan, was able to see the monument completed from his jail cell in The Red Fort (which we are going to later on today). Shah Jahan was jailed and over-thrown by his son, Aurangzeb. The producer's of cable TV Reality shows would have had a field day with this dysfunctional family!
The Taj Mahal was timelessly beautiful, majestic and walking through the first gate and actually seeing it with the linear pools and walks projecting your eye's right to the center of the mass marble structure was a visually emotional esperieince. It is the best example of Islamic architecture in India and all Indian's regardless of their religion take pride in it. During the Second World War the structure itself was covered to try and camofloge it fromm being a possible bombing target, the same was true during India's two wars with Pakistan. There was a security check to get into the park and military protection outside of it as well as on the perimiter.
The backside of The Taj has a river running behind it (I should remember the name, Doug will be disappointed in me that I don't, but it is a tributary of the Ganji River. The river is very low, waiting for the monsoon season to fill it but there were a few water buffalo wading in it's water and an occasional garland floating. Doug said the garland's could be from a burial or perhaps from a morning Hindi Pujab. There were a few monkey's roaming around and we saw two water buffalo pulling a lawn mower cutting the grass. We heard many different languages being spoken and as we were told by our driver, most of the early morning tourist are western. He said Indian's don't want to get up that early in the morning and Kristen commented that the Indian's tolerate the heat better.
I'm back at the hotel right now. We all enjoyed a wonderful Indian/Western breakfast. This is the first time I have allowed myself to eat fresh fruit (I have had bananas) and it tasted really good. I hope I won't be sorry but I figure that a big hotel catering to foreigner's has to be careful about food preparation and sanitation. D&K are taking a nap before they cool off in the pool this afternoon. Their suite has a desk area, a dinning area (we had lunch served there yesterday after arriving here) a nice living room area, a bedroom with a huge four poster bed and a bathroom that is about the size of their entire MG apartment. The living room has a book case with books about India which DFO is enjoying purusing. The furnishing's are what would have been typical of the day's when Britian controlled India with the addition of the beautiful colors and fabric's which are definately Indian. I would love to bring yards and yards of fabric home and use them to accent and decorate my house.
Yesterday, late afternoon, the sky was filled with what looked like birds fluttering in the air. Doug pointed out to me that they were kites and as it got closer to dawn their would be more. Just like in Kabul, Afghanistan (remember the book THE KITE RUNNER) Indian's here in the old section of Agra love to fly kites. I'm looking forward to watching them later on today, that is if the pollution clears up.....we are about a quarter of a mile from The Taj and yesterday the pollution did not prevent you from seeing it.....today you can't.
When we were driving here from Delhi yesterday I commented to Kristen that if you asked an Indian child (from Delhi or Agra and probably other industrial large cities) what color is the sky, they would answer gray. The pollution from gasoline engine's and industry hangs over this area and indeed, the sky is gray. When were were driving through Mathura, India yesterday our driver was telling us that they government made a big refinery cut their production in half because the pollution was making the marble of the Taj turn black. Mathura, the sight of pivotal ancient battles with different empire's during Indian history was about an hour away from Agra.
The trip to India has taught me many things and first amoung them is about the environment. At home, I TRY and re-cycle, conserve natural resourses, etc. Here, I have seen first hand what happens when you don't. The pollution, the in-ability to re-cycle plastic (which has to be the curse of the third world) and over population would make any skeptic alter their thinking. Garbage is everywhere and living with it becomes as "normal" as living with green grass and flower's in a short period of time.........that is really scarry
Leh, Ladakh Kashmir
MAY 22ND, 2010 SATURDAY
LEH, LADAKH
This is such an incredible world; here I am writing this on a notebook computer, looking down from my guest house balcony at two old (at least I think they are old, I have a feeling you age very quickly in this rugged climate) Ladakhi women toast barley over an open fire. In the background I hear the sounds of cows and yaks and once in awhile the sound of jet and prop planes from the Indian Air Force flying in the distance.
Before leaving McCleod Ganj, yesterday, I spent an hour writing and if I may shamelessly say a pretty good blog only to have erased it. Doug suggested that I work in a document and paste it into the blog....here is hoping it works.
The trip from MG to Jammu is about 150 miles. It took us about six and a half hours to travel the distance. Doug and Kristen did make the observation that we did have a very careful driver (which means he didn't make every effort to make scare the living daylight out of us) and when we crossed over into Kashmir we got held up at the border. Truck, buses, cars, beggars and vendors all trying to get through the boarder, pay their road taxes (our driver not only had to pay the tax but a bribe as well – he was really angry about it, telling the police “why do this to me, I'm from Kashmir”). The driver left us in the running car (thank goodness, it was over a hundred degrees outside) and went to pay a second tax, at that point in time I felt as if I was in a movie scene where the crowd turns on the car of a foreigner. People starred into the car window's looking at us, beggars knocked on the window, cows would saunter by (yes, in the mist of all this traffic.....cows walking or laying down wherever they pleased). Men were carrying around small round grills and grilling vegetables and some sort of meat (mutton or chicken?), these small grills were were placed on folding tray holders, which when the vendor moved to another location he would put under on arm and carry the grill with his other. He would then go up to cars and buses and sell his fare and move on his way.
When we entered Jammu, a city of approximately one million people and I was taken back by the military presence. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.
Early the next morning we went to the airport in Jammu for our Air India flight to Leh, Ladakh. Ladakh encompasses 56% of the land in Kashmir and only 2% of it's population. I read that it is one of the least populated places on the planet.
Cars are not allowed to walk into the airport, you walk in by foot, going through the first of what were to be six inspections: x-ray, metal detectors, frisking and for female passages hand inspections of your purse. Carry on bags are not allowed. Stationed throughout the airport were armed Indian soldier's. We had five more security checks and at the last inspection point my purse was emptied until they found what they felt was suspicious – an oberlite! Thirty year's of airport travel, at home and abroad, never once has an oberlite been confiscated!
Flying over The Himalayas was a breath taking, humbling experience. For whatever reason you were not allowed to photograph the mountains through the plane windows.....Kristen just finished taking picture's (she had the window seat) when the announcement was made that photography was prohibited. The approach to Leh was literally like coming down from the clouds....the white, rugged peaks of the Himalayans, their majesty was replaced by the brown, lunar like bleakness of the hills surrounding Leh. The Leh Airport is part of the Indian military and everywhere you looked you saw razor wire, camouflaged bunkers, soldier's and guns. I have never seen such a strong military presence but then again I have never been so close to a :hot spot” before. Doug read that the U.S. Special Forces sometime train here, along side the Indian Army because the terrain and condition's are similar to Afghanistan.. This morning I heard (here it is again.....another “sound”) airplane's flying overhead. My immediate, albeit irrational thought was “Pakistan is invading”. I have a new found recognition of the fear which Indian's and Pakistani live with each day.
I also have to mention this that right how I am closer to Kabul than to Delhi. Mother, I know hearing that will make your heart skip a beat.....but by the time you read this I'll be back in Delhi. I won't be able to send this until then...
We are staying at a little guest house called “Silver Cloud “, Our room has a lovely balcony over-looking the snow capped Himalayan mountain's and approximately a ten minute walk from the center of Leh. The guest house is built in the traditional Ladakhi style, mud baked bricks, covered with more mud and ornately carved pined trim. Straw is used for insulation and considering the fact they have long, cold and snowy winter's here it must work well. The interior of our room is in the traditional style, beamed ceilings, hand carved post and woodwork and a beautiful wooden floors with hand made Ladakhi rugs. We have three beds, each one of them about eighteen inches high, ( resembling a wooden platform with a three inch foam covering over the sleeping surface.. Note to reader: It isn't very comfortable so. I got up during the night and put one of the heavy bed quilt's under me and it did seem to make the bed a tad softer). There is no central heat in the guest house but we do have a space heater AND our own western toilet. Tonight at 8:30 we will have some hot water for showers. The owner of Silver Cloud speaks passable English and with Doug's Tibetan and his smattering of Ladakhi we manage. The owner's Mother is this smiling old woman who has a weather warned tanned skin and a big broad smile with white teeth .She is hunched over and is dressed in traditional Ladakhi dress and jewelry.
He also has a very nice wife, who speaks some English and two servants, one girl aged eleven and I guess the other woman to be around twenty. The eleven year old smiles at us all the time and speaks a little English, which she told me she learned in school. She is busy helping with putting in the garden and when we were served breakfast on the patio this morning she brought food back and forth from the kitchen. The older sister works all the time; from the time we go to sleep and when we wake up she is back outside working, she prepared our morning breakfast and tea and is busy inside as well as outside.
I was the first one up this morning and put on my down vest (I slept with long underwear under neath my pajamas) and went out to the balcony, right underneath me were two women toasting barley under a wooden fire. This went on all day. Both women were older and again dressed in traditional clothing were later joined by the older daughter of this family. The owner was outside and told me about what they were doing, I asked if it was OK to photograph them and he said yes. I told him I was interested in the local culture and later on he told Doug that a monk was coming to do a Puja (ritual ceremony – probably blessing and purifying the kitchen and home) and asked if we would like to watch. We of course, jumped at the opportunity, and sat cross-legged on cushions (truth be told; D and K sat cross-legged my old bones couldn't bend for a half hour). This wasn't your ordinary tourist experience, but then again I hope we are anything but ordinary tourist. Oh........we had some of the barley with our breakfast....it was delicious.
Doug hired a car and driver and we drove to three locations: 1) Thiskey Monastery 14th century 2) Shey Palace, the former summer capital of the Ladakhi Kings and 3) Stok, the former residence of the Ladakhi royal family. My personal favorite was Thiskey Monastery which looks like the Potala Palace in Tibet. Kristen and I were told by a monk that a Puja, (this particular one is held only once a year ) was going on and we could sit in the corner of the room and observe the ritual. We were given the unusual opportunity to sit, watch, and listen (SOUNDS AGAIN) to the monk's chanting, smelling incense burning and to witness an ancient Buddhist Puja . We were getting up to leave and another Monk approached us and wanted to show us the Mandala (made out of sand , which will be destroyed to represent the in-permanence of life), butter sculptures and numerous different Buddha's.
SUNDAY, MAY 25TH
We woke up to cold this morning.....I downed the silk long underwear I brought with me, put on a polartec shirt and down vest....that should keep me warm. In a relatively short period of time, my attire, kept me over-heated and hot! Fortunately, Doug had a backpack with him and it wasn't before too long he was shoving both Kristen and my jacket's into his pack. We walked through the the maze of stone fenced homes and said “Jew-Lay)” to everyone we met. People are very friendly. All the homes are surrounded by stone walls and dung covered lanes run through this community like a maze. Inside the walls you find tidy homes, terraced garden's and an occasional yak, cow or goat. The home's of Buddhist family's are marked by prayer flags flying proudly in the wind. The landscape here is for the most part brown but the bright yellow, green, red, and blue of the prayer flags compliment the green tree's (which are not indigenous to the country but have been brought from somewhere else and planted) and garden's and the landscape is cheerful and inviting. Currently the season is late spring; the lilac bushes, apple tree's , and iris are all in bloom. The garden is being planted at the Silver Cloud and when harvested will feed the family and the guest for the coming year.
We ventured into the old city where Muslim baker's were baking bread in the oven's that resembled the tandoori oven's used by the Indian's. Muslim butcher's were selling meat displayed (intestines, organs and cuts of meat I coudln't recognize) out on an open shelf next to their shop doors. The Muslim population is around 40% and the Buddhist population is around 60%. The vast majority of the Muslim population came as immigrant's about five hundred years ago and live, for the most part, problem free together. There are two Mosque's in town and we hear the sound's of the call to prayer during the day.
After a good climb to the top of the old Palace we had a quick lunch and went our separate way's. Kristen went back to the Silver Cloud, Doug went to check on our day trip to ALCHI tomorrow and I the roamed the shop's. Being the fun group we are we are spending the evening reading. We were without electric power awhile ago, but after hearing the sounds of a gasoline generator being started we now have power. It is almost nine o'clock......I think I'll call it a night and hopefully write more tomorrow.
Monday. May 24th
Kristen and I are back at the Silver Cloud after a exciting, adventurous day. I am amazed at all that Doug knows about Ladakh and this whole region. His study of comparative religion is extended way beyond Buddhism, etc. Doug is still in town using a telephone to make check on our reservation's for the trip to Agra. Incidentally, there will be a full moon when we are there.......how incredibly romantic, I hope D&K enjoy it.
When K and I opened the gate to come into the courtyard it looked like a party was going on.....in a way it was. The owner's of the Silver Cloud are having major stone work done on pathways and they have worker's here (complete with some cute little children who Kristen and I would have loved to brought up to our room to play with). The owner's work all the time; I am always up before six and when I go out on the balcony I see them sweeping, moving tables outside so we can have our breakfast downstairs on the terrace, or working in the garden. We found out that the eleven year old girl and the other girl who are here are not the children of the owner's but relatives children from a remote part of Ladakh called Zanskar. The owner's two children are in private boarding school's in Delhi and the daughter has just won a full scholarship to the United World College and plans to practice medicine. The work ethic of Sonam and his wife is incredible.
Doug hired a driver and a jeep to take us to Achi, a monastery which The Smithsonian Magazine had a major article about a few month's ago (thank you Daddy...because of you, I read it!)
Achi is an 11th century monastery, which because of its remote location was never sacked by any of the invaders who conquered Ladakh over the century's. (Note to reader: Ladakh became part of India in 1947 when the British partitioned the country, before then it was it's own kingdom) I'M STOPPING RIGHT NOW....NO POWER AND I'LL NEED TO WAIT UNTIL THE GASOLINE GENERATOR GETS STARTED. WHEN K AND I CAME BACK SONAM TOLD US HE WAS SO SORRY.....NO HOT WATER BUT HE WOULD BRING US A BUCKET OR TWO SO WE COULD WASH. A HOT HOUSE FLOWER I AM NOT!
Back to today......D and K had headlamps and I an oberlite in order to see the interiors of the two temple's at Achi. The color's were still vibrant and well preserved. One temple did have some deep cracks in the plaster, which have been made worse by blasting done by the Indian Army for a new dam being made on the Indus River. Speaking of the Indus, it was exciting seeing a river that in seemed so remote when I studied Geography in school. The road to Achi was a cross between a Great America roller coaster and Russian Roulette. I sat in the front seat with the driver so I could see just how close we were to the edge of the small, shoulder less road. In many places the road was a single lane, which doesn't matter all that much because Indian's drive as if they are the only driver on the road. We came within an inch of cars (no VGE) as he passed on curves, passed when he saw another driver approaching us. I actually felt very confident in the driving ability of Tashi, (Tibetan for “luck”), our driver......it was all the other driver's I was worried about.
Our second stop of the day was at the LikirMonastery, most notable because it was first founded in the 11th century and then re-established by another school of Buddhism in the 15th century. This ancient structure has a twenty five foot outdoor statue of the Future Buddha, Maitreya, built in the 1980's.......from my point of view it really corrupts the integrity of the monastery. Incidentally, the current Dali Lama's brother is the Lama running the Likir Monastery.
The next stop was the Basgo Gompa... one of the highlight's of the Indus Valley. It is a World Heritage site and was crumbling until UNESCO and some local forces have joined forces to restore it. The site sits on top of a mountain with panoramic views of the valley which is dotted with stupas. I have to admit that after the first flight of steps, D&K took their leave and went up to monastery and walked around the gompa, I 'm not sure if it was the altitude, the end of the day or my lack of being in shape but I said I'd be happy to wait. I was sitting enjoying the view and imagining what life must have been like during that time when Tashi climbed up the hill to join me. We had a limited conversation because of language limitations and I laughed to myself at his sense of chivalry not wanting me there alone! POWER IS OFF AGAIN AND I CAN'T SEE …..HOPE IT WILL COME ON AGAIN SO I CAN FINISH THIS BEFORE I FALL ASLEEP. I'm back and regret that my description's of what I am seeing do not do justice to Ladakh or for that matter McCleod Ganj (which I still need to write about) or India itself. I wish that I was a better writer, had more time and that at the end of the day I wasn't so tired.
Tuesday, May 25th
It is really easy getting settled into Leh, the rhythm of life has already been established for me. I'm up a little before I hear the jet planes in the distance, which is a few minutes after six. Shortly after that I hear the family of this guest house beginning their day. I hear the sound of the straw brooms sweeping the terrace and walks. The high pitched voice's of the women probably talking and the sound coming from the kitchen. Speaking of kitchens.........last night Sonam gave me a tour of the new kitchen being at the guest house. It is completely modern: custom made, which are being made by woodworkers from Nepal, cabinets, marble counter tops, a big stove, a huge sink and burled wood walls. I asked him what they were going to do with the old kitchen, which we were all in for the puja the second day we were here. He said they would use the new kitchen for preparation of the guest's food but the old kitchen, which is a traditional Ladhki kitchen will be used by them. He said that when Ladhki's entertain family and friend's it is always in the kitchen........not that different from being home in
Wheaton!
At approximately ten minutes after seven each day that we have been here an old man and woman come walking down the road with an unruly yak, a couple of cows and several donkey's. They both have switches to keep them moving and I hear them shouting, what I can only imagine are commands to the animals and not to each other. I haven't any idea of where they are coming from and where they are going to.
We have breakfast here each morning and except for the one morning when it was too cold we eat out on the terrace in front of the guest house The sun is bright and warm so even if it is a bit chilly we are soon warm and comfortable. Breakfast consists of : black tea, roti (Indian style bread), butter, apricot jam (apricots are grown here), honey and omelets.
Breakfast brings up the topic of food. I have to admit that I had reservations before coming here worrying about what I was going to eat. I had Dal before and I knew if nothing else I could eat Dal (beans) and rice. Lord knows it wouldn't hurt to drop a pound or ten. Needless to say, I have not lost any weight and probably gained a few. The variety of food available in McCleod Ganj was enormous and as a matter of fact the best food I have eaten so far was there. In MG, as in Delhi and here in Leh the restaurant menu has an Indian, Italian Israeli, Chinese and Continental section. I do have to admit that regardless of what I have eaten the food all seems to taste the same. Doug and Kristen love Indian food and it seems that they generally order it. I had a funny experience in a restaurant in Alchi yesterday. On a dessert menu they had “banana pan cake” and “chocolate pan cake.” The thought of a nice piece of chocolate cake sounded good to me and I assumed it would be a piece of cake baked in a single layer pan. When it was brought out to me it was a big crepe filled with chocolate. D&K knew it was it was what they call a pancake. Regardless, it was delicious and big enough for the three of us.
Doug had a beer with dinner last night and if you asked D&K what they miss the most in terms of US foods they would both say good beer. The beer Doug had was KINGFISHER beer. Kingfisher is a large Indian conglomerate owning an airline by the same name, dairy's along with other businesses The bottle reads that the alcohol contents MIGHT be between 3.5 and 5.5. If Forest Gump was in India he would say “beer is like a box of chocolates.....you never know what your going to get”. Beer and Wine are sold in stores called “English Wine and Beer Shop.” Kristen bought a bottle of Indian wine the day I arrived but we were too busy and then too tired to every drink it.
Kristen as you all know is this sweet Glen Ellyn girl who you would think of as being very vulnerable in this dog eat dog envirnoment (I think that would be a pretty fair broad assessment of Indian life). Well folks, think twice! Yesterday she and I were in a long line at a ATM station and after a long wait it was our turn to go into the room and this Indian man tried to step in front of Kristen and in a micro-second she shoved her body right in front of him and gave him a look a Clint Eastwood kind of “go ahead, make my day” look. He tried getting in front of her one other time and she wouldn't budge. She is good with merchants and taxi drivers as well.....firm but always giving them a smile. I am really impressed with the way Kristen has adapted to life in India.
One afternoon in Mcleod Ganj, I went to Kristen's English Conversation class. It was fun seeing her in the classroom and it was obvious that her student's (all adults) respect her (they address her as “Teacher”) and like her as well.
Another afternoon Douglas and I went to be volunteer English Conversation Partners' at The Gu-Chu-Sun, an association which provides free English and Computer Classes to former Tibetan Political Prisioner's. I was paired with a Tibetan nun, who was imprisioned by the Chinesse for three year's. She was arrested because she was protesting. After she was released from prision her family got enough money (she was the oldest of 8 children born to farmer's parent's) to help her get to Nepal and eventually she got to India and to Dharmasala. She told me two of her brother's became monks and were arrested and imprisioned for protesting in last year's demonstration's again the Chinesse. At one point I asked her if she had any questions she would like to ask me about my life and she perked up and wanted to know how old I was and if I had cake on my birthday? Her year studying at Gu-Chu-Sum was almost over and she will have to return to her nunnery about forty miles from MG ...she didn't seem too happy about the prospect since she said she would not be able to use her English skills. Needless to say, it was an eye opening experience for me and I know I gained far more from talking to her than she got in return.
Another day in MC Doug and I went to Dharmasala to the Gangchen Kyishong Complex (this is where the Tibetan Government in exile has their headquarter's). The Library of Tibetan Works and Arhives is in this complex and this is where Doug has been doing his Tibetan language training. The complex is relatively small and yet it is able to get the message of the Free Tibet movement out to the world. Apparently there is an entire government in place here ready to move in and take charge if Tibet is ever granted it's freedom. Unfortunately for these dedicated and proud people it will most likely never happen.
Doug and I also went for a little hike (we took a rickshaw up and down to the village) through a small Indian village above MG and The Tibetan Children's Village. The name of the village was Naddi and most of ithe inhabitant's are GADDI people. They are an ethnic group of shephards. The village was interesting...women doing laundry, tending gardens and talking to each other just like women do all over the world. There seemed to be an absence of men and I am assuming that they were probably with their flocks higher in the mountain's. The village was obviously poor, but for the most part clean and it's residents looked happy. The kids were cute and dressed in school uniforms on their way to a school we saw in the valley.
When we fly out of Leh tomorrow I will feel as if I am going back to India despite the fact that I have never left it. McCleod Ganj and to a greater sense Leh seem a world away from the India of Delhi, Amristar and Jammu. The air is clean, the pace is slower and the people are different; not only ethnically but, if I were to make a comparison with the US.....they are like midwesterner's.
Doug has been encouraging me to get up during the night and go out on the balcony and look at the stars. Last night I did and I have never seen anything like it. The heaven's looked like an astronomy book. I never imagined their could be so many stars in the sky, The moon is almost full so the only thing that could have made the stars brighter would have been no moon lighting the sky. Jim G....it would have been your star gazing dream come true!
Doug is woring for Rustic Pathways again this summer and beginning a few days after I leave he will be leading trips from Delhi to Ladahk taking, what I consider, very lucky teenager's to this part of the world. Hopefully it will make a lasting and meaningful impression on their life's.
Hopefully, we can find an internet cafe with a good connection and send this off today....otherwise it will be tomorrow in Agra.
LEH, LADAKH
This is such an incredible world; here I am writing this on a notebook computer, looking down from my guest house balcony at two old (at least I think they are old, I have a feeling you age very quickly in this rugged climate) Ladakhi women toast barley over an open fire. In the background I hear the sounds of cows and yaks and once in awhile the sound of jet and prop planes from the Indian Air Force flying in the distance.
Before leaving McCleod Ganj, yesterday, I spent an hour writing and if I may shamelessly say a pretty good blog only to have erased it. Doug suggested that I work in a document and paste it into the blog....here is hoping it works.
The trip from MG to Jammu is about 150 miles. It took us about six and a half hours to travel the distance. Doug and Kristen did make the observation that we did have a very careful driver (which means he didn't make every effort to make scare the living daylight out of us) and when we crossed over into Kashmir we got held up at the border. Truck, buses, cars, beggars and vendors all trying to get through the boarder, pay their road taxes (our driver not only had to pay the tax but a bribe as well – he was really angry about it, telling the police “why do this to me, I'm from Kashmir”). The driver left us in the running car (thank goodness, it was over a hundred degrees outside) and went to pay a second tax, at that point in time I felt as if I was in a movie scene where the crowd turns on the car of a foreigner. People starred into the car window's looking at us, beggars knocked on the window, cows would saunter by (yes, in the mist of all this traffic.....cows walking or laying down wherever they pleased). Men were carrying around small round grills and grilling vegetables and some sort of meat (mutton or chicken?), these small grills were were placed on folding tray holders, which when the vendor moved to another location he would put under on arm and carry the grill with his other. He would then go up to cars and buses and sell his fare and move on his way.
When we entered Jammu, a city of approximately one million people and I was taken back by the military presence. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.
Early the next morning we went to the airport in Jammu for our Air India flight to Leh, Ladakh. Ladakh encompasses 56% of the land in Kashmir and only 2% of it's population. I read that it is one of the least populated places on the planet.
Cars are not allowed to walk into the airport, you walk in by foot, going through the first of what were to be six inspections: x-ray, metal detectors, frisking and for female passages hand inspections of your purse. Carry on bags are not allowed. Stationed throughout the airport were armed Indian soldier's. We had five more security checks and at the last inspection point my purse was emptied until they found what they felt was suspicious – an oberlite! Thirty year's of airport travel, at home and abroad, never once has an oberlite been confiscated!
Flying over The Himalayas was a breath taking, humbling experience. For whatever reason you were not allowed to photograph the mountains through the plane windows.....Kristen just finished taking picture's (she had the window seat) when the announcement was made that photography was prohibited. The approach to Leh was literally like coming down from the clouds....the white, rugged peaks of the Himalayans, their majesty was replaced by the brown, lunar like bleakness of the hills surrounding Leh. The Leh Airport is part of the Indian military and everywhere you looked you saw razor wire, camouflaged bunkers, soldier's and guns. I have never seen such a strong military presence but then again I have never been so close to a :hot spot” before. Doug read that the U.S. Special Forces sometime train here, along side the Indian Army because the terrain and condition's are similar to Afghanistan.. This morning I heard (here it is again.....another “sound”) airplane's flying overhead. My immediate, albeit irrational thought was “Pakistan is invading”. I have a new found recognition of the fear which Indian's and Pakistani live with each day.
I also have to mention this that right how I am closer to Kabul than to Delhi. Mother, I know hearing that will make your heart skip a beat.....but by the time you read this I'll be back in Delhi. I won't be able to send this until then...
We are staying at a little guest house called “Silver Cloud “, Our room has a lovely balcony over-looking the snow capped Himalayan mountain's and approximately a ten minute walk from the center of Leh. The guest house is built in the traditional Ladakhi style, mud baked bricks, covered with more mud and ornately carved pined trim. Straw is used for insulation and considering the fact they have long, cold and snowy winter's here it must work well. The interior of our room is in the traditional style, beamed ceilings, hand carved post and woodwork and a beautiful wooden floors with hand made Ladakhi rugs. We have three beds, each one of them about eighteen inches high, ( resembling a wooden platform with a three inch foam covering over the sleeping surface.. Note to reader: It isn't very comfortable so. I got up during the night and put one of the heavy bed quilt's under me and it did seem to make the bed a tad softer). There is no central heat in the guest house but we do have a space heater AND our own western toilet. Tonight at 8:30 we will have some hot water for showers. The owner of Silver Cloud speaks passable English and with Doug's Tibetan and his smattering of Ladakhi we manage. The owner's Mother is this smiling old woman who has a weather warned tanned skin and a big broad smile with white teeth .She is hunched over and is dressed in traditional Ladakhi dress and jewelry.
He also has a very nice wife, who speaks some English and two servants, one girl aged eleven and I guess the other woman to be around twenty. The eleven year old smiles at us all the time and speaks a little English, which she told me she learned in school. She is busy helping with putting in the garden and when we were served breakfast on the patio this morning she brought food back and forth from the kitchen. The older sister works all the time; from the time we go to sleep and when we wake up she is back outside working, she prepared our morning breakfast and tea and is busy inside as well as outside.
I was the first one up this morning and put on my down vest (I slept with long underwear under neath my pajamas) and went out to the balcony, right underneath me were two women toasting barley under a wooden fire. This went on all day. Both women were older and again dressed in traditional clothing were later joined by the older daughter of this family. The owner was outside and told me about what they were doing, I asked if it was OK to photograph them and he said yes. I told him I was interested in the local culture and later on he told Doug that a monk was coming to do a Puja (ritual ceremony – probably blessing and purifying the kitchen and home) and asked if we would like to watch. We of course, jumped at the opportunity, and sat cross-legged on cushions (truth be told; D and K sat cross-legged my old bones couldn't bend for a half hour). This wasn't your ordinary tourist experience, but then again I hope we are anything but ordinary tourist. Oh........we had some of the barley with our breakfast....it was delicious.
Doug hired a car and driver and we drove to three locations: 1) Thiskey Monastery 14th century 2) Shey Palace, the former summer capital of the Ladakhi Kings and 3) Stok, the former residence of the Ladakhi royal family. My personal favorite was Thiskey Monastery which looks like the Potala Palace in Tibet. Kristen and I were told by a monk that a Puja, (this particular one is held only once a year ) was going on and we could sit in the corner of the room and observe the ritual. We were given the unusual opportunity to sit, watch, and listen (SOUNDS AGAIN) to the monk's chanting, smelling incense burning and to witness an ancient Buddhist Puja . We were getting up to leave and another Monk approached us and wanted to show us the Mandala (made out of sand , which will be destroyed to represent the in-permanence of life), butter sculptures and numerous different Buddha's.
SUNDAY, MAY 25TH
We woke up to cold this morning.....I downed the silk long underwear I brought with me, put on a polartec shirt and down vest....that should keep me warm. In a relatively short period of time, my attire, kept me over-heated and hot! Fortunately, Doug had a backpack with him and it wasn't before too long he was shoving both Kristen and my jacket's into his pack. We walked through the the maze of stone fenced homes and said “Jew-Lay)” to everyone we met. People are very friendly. All the homes are surrounded by stone walls and dung covered lanes run through this community like a maze. Inside the walls you find tidy homes, terraced garden's and an occasional yak, cow or goat. The home's of Buddhist family's are marked by prayer flags flying proudly in the wind. The landscape here is for the most part brown but the bright yellow, green, red, and blue of the prayer flags compliment the green tree's (which are not indigenous to the country but have been brought from somewhere else and planted) and garden's and the landscape is cheerful and inviting. Currently the season is late spring; the lilac bushes, apple tree's , and iris are all in bloom. The garden is being planted at the Silver Cloud and when harvested will feed the family and the guest for the coming year.
We ventured into the old city where Muslim baker's were baking bread in the oven's that resembled the tandoori oven's used by the Indian's. Muslim butcher's were selling meat displayed (intestines, organs and cuts of meat I coudln't recognize) out on an open shelf next to their shop doors. The Muslim population is around 40% and the Buddhist population is around 60%. The vast majority of the Muslim population came as immigrant's about five hundred years ago and live, for the most part, problem free together. There are two Mosque's in town and we hear the sound's of the call to prayer during the day.
After a good climb to the top of the old Palace we had a quick lunch and went our separate way's. Kristen went back to the Silver Cloud, Doug went to check on our day trip to ALCHI tomorrow and I the roamed the shop's. Being the fun group we are we are spending the evening reading. We were without electric power awhile ago, but after hearing the sounds of a gasoline generator being started we now have power. It is almost nine o'clock......I think I'll call it a night and hopefully write more tomorrow.
Monday. May 24th
Kristen and I are back at the Silver Cloud after a exciting, adventurous day. I am amazed at all that Doug knows about Ladakh and this whole region. His study of comparative religion is extended way beyond Buddhism, etc. Doug is still in town using a telephone to make check on our reservation's for the trip to Agra. Incidentally, there will be a full moon when we are there.......how incredibly romantic, I hope D&K enjoy it.
When K and I opened the gate to come into the courtyard it looked like a party was going on.....in a way it was. The owner's of the Silver Cloud are having major stone work done on pathways and they have worker's here (complete with some cute little children who Kristen and I would have loved to brought up to our room to play with). The owner's work all the time; I am always up before six and when I go out on the balcony I see them sweeping, moving tables outside so we can have our breakfast downstairs on the terrace, or working in the garden. We found out that the eleven year old girl and the other girl who are here are not the children of the owner's but relatives children from a remote part of Ladakh called Zanskar. The owner's two children are in private boarding school's in Delhi and the daughter has just won a full scholarship to the United World College and plans to practice medicine. The work ethic of Sonam and his wife is incredible.
Doug hired a driver and a jeep to take us to Achi, a monastery which The Smithsonian Magazine had a major article about a few month's ago (thank you Daddy...because of you, I read it!)
Achi is an 11th century monastery, which because of its remote location was never sacked by any of the invaders who conquered Ladakh over the century's. (Note to reader: Ladakh became part of India in 1947 when the British partitioned the country, before then it was it's own kingdom) I'M STOPPING RIGHT NOW....NO POWER AND I'LL NEED TO WAIT UNTIL THE GASOLINE GENERATOR GETS STARTED. WHEN K AND I CAME BACK SONAM TOLD US HE WAS SO SORRY.....NO HOT WATER BUT HE WOULD BRING US A BUCKET OR TWO SO WE COULD WASH. A HOT HOUSE FLOWER I AM NOT!
Back to today......D and K had headlamps and I an oberlite in order to see the interiors of the two temple's at Achi. The color's were still vibrant and well preserved. One temple did have some deep cracks in the plaster, which have been made worse by blasting done by the Indian Army for a new dam being made on the Indus River. Speaking of the Indus, it was exciting seeing a river that in seemed so remote when I studied Geography in school. The road to Achi was a cross between a Great America roller coaster and Russian Roulette. I sat in the front seat with the driver so I could see just how close we were to the edge of the small, shoulder less road. In many places the road was a single lane, which doesn't matter all that much because Indian's drive as if they are the only driver on the road. We came within an inch of cars (no VGE) as he passed on curves, passed when he saw another driver approaching us. I actually felt very confident in the driving ability of Tashi, (Tibetan for “luck”), our driver......it was all the other driver's I was worried about.
Our second stop of the day was at the LikirMonastery, most notable because it was first founded in the 11th century and then re-established by another school of Buddhism in the 15th century. This ancient structure has a twenty five foot outdoor statue of the Future Buddha, Maitreya, built in the 1980's.......from my point of view it really corrupts the integrity of the monastery. Incidentally, the current Dali Lama's brother is the Lama running the Likir Monastery.
The next stop was the Basgo Gompa... one of the highlight's of the Indus Valley. It is a World Heritage site and was crumbling until UNESCO and some local forces have joined forces to restore it. The site sits on top of a mountain with panoramic views of the valley which is dotted with stupas. I have to admit that after the first flight of steps, D&K took their leave and went up to monastery and walked around the gompa, I 'm not sure if it was the altitude, the end of the day or my lack of being in shape but I said I'd be happy to wait. I was sitting enjoying the view and imagining what life must have been like during that time when Tashi climbed up the hill to join me. We had a limited conversation because of language limitations and I laughed to myself at his sense of chivalry not wanting me there alone! POWER IS OFF AGAIN AND I CAN'T SEE …..HOPE IT WILL COME ON AGAIN SO I CAN FINISH THIS BEFORE I FALL ASLEEP. I'm back and regret that my description's of what I am seeing do not do justice to Ladakh or for that matter McCleod Ganj (which I still need to write about) or India itself. I wish that I was a better writer, had more time and that at the end of the day I wasn't so tired.
Tuesday, May 25th
It is really easy getting settled into Leh, the rhythm of life has already been established for me. I'm up a little before I hear the jet planes in the distance, which is a few minutes after six. Shortly after that I hear the family of this guest house beginning their day. I hear the sound of the straw brooms sweeping the terrace and walks. The high pitched voice's of the women probably talking and the sound coming from the kitchen. Speaking of kitchens.........last night Sonam gave me a tour of the new kitchen being at the guest house. It is completely modern: custom made, which are being made by woodworkers from Nepal, cabinets, marble counter tops, a big stove, a huge sink and burled wood walls. I asked him what they were going to do with the old kitchen, which we were all in for the puja the second day we were here. He said they would use the new kitchen for preparation of the guest's food but the old kitchen, which is a traditional Ladhki kitchen will be used by them. He said that when Ladhki's entertain family and friend's it is always in the kitchen........not that different from being home in
Wheaton!
At approximately ten minutes after seven each day that we have been here an old man and woman come walking down the road with an unruly yak, a couple of cows and several donkey's. They both have switches to keep them moving and I hear them shouting, what I can only imagine are commands to the animals and not to each other. I haven't any idea of where they are coming from and where they are going to.
We have breakfast here each morning and except for the one morning when it was too cold we eat out on the terrace in front of the guest house The sun is bright and warm so even if it is a bit chilly we are soon warm and comfortable. Breakfast consists of : black tea, roti (Indian style bread), butter, apricot jam (apricots are grown here), honey and omelets.
Breakfast brings up the topic of food. I have to admit that I had reservations before coming here worrying about what I was going to eat. I had Dal before and I knew if nothing else I could eat Dal (beans) and rice. Lord knows it wouldn't hurt to drop a pound or ten. Needless to say, I have not lost any weight and probably gained a few. The variety of food available in McCleod Ganj was enormous and as a matter of fact the best food I have eaten so far was there. In MG, as in Delhi and here in Leh the restaurant menu has an Indian, Italian Israeli, Chinese and Continental section. I do have to admit that regardless of what I have eaten the food all seems to taste the same. Doug and Kristen love Indian food and it seems that they generally order it. I had a funny experience in a restaurant in Alchi yesterday. On a dessert menu they had “banana pan cake” and “chocolate pan cake.” The thought of a nice piece of chocolate cake sounded good to me and I assumed it would be a piece of cake baked in a single layer pan. When it was brought out to me it was a big crepe filled with chocolate. D&K knew it was it was what they call a pancake. Regardless, it was delicious and big enough for the three of us.
Doug had a beer with dinner last night and if you asked D&K what they miss the most in terms of US foods they would both say good beer. The beer Doug had was KINGFISHER beer. Kingfisher is a large Indian conglomerate owning an airline by the same name, dairy's along with other businesses The bottle reads that the alcohol contents MIGHT be between 3.5 and 5.5. If Forest Gump was in India he would say “beer is like a box of chocolates.....you never know what your going to get”. Beer and Wine are sold in stores called “English Wine and Beer Shop.” Kristen bought a bottle of Indian wine the day I arrived but we were too busy and then too tired to every drink it.
Kristen as you all know is this sweet Glen Ellyn girl who you would think of as being very vulnerable in this dog eat dog envirnoment (I think that would be a pretty fair broad assessment of Indian life). Well folks, think twice! Yesterday she and I were in a long line at a ATM station and after a long wait it was our turn to go into the room and this Indian man tried to step in front of Kristen and in a micro-second she shoved her body right in front of him and gave him a look a Clint Eastwood kind of “go ahead, make my day” look. He tried getting in front of her one other time and she wouldn't budge. She is good with merchants and taxi drivers as well.....firm but always giving them a smile. I am really impressed with the way Kristen has adapted to life in India.
One afternoon in Mcleod Ganj, I went to Kristen's English Conversation class. It was fun seeing her in the classroom and it was obvious that her student's (all adults) respect her (they address her as “Teacher”) and like her as well.
Another afternoon Douglas and I went to be volunteer English Conversation Partners' at The Gu-Chu-Sun, an association which provides free English and Computer Classes to former Tibetan Political Prisioner's. I was paired with a Tibetan nun, who was imprisioned by the Chinesse for three year's. She was arrested because she was protesting. After she was released from prision her family got enough money (she was the oldest of 8 children born to farmer's parent's) to help her get to Nepal and eventually she got to India and to Dharmasala. She told me two of her brother's became monks and were arrested and imprisioned for protesting in last year's demonstration's again the Chinesse. At one point I asked her if she had any questions she would like to ask me about my life and she perked up and wanted to know how old I was and if I had cake on my birthday? Her year studying at Gu-Chu-Sum was almost over and she will have to return to her nunnery about forty miles from MG ...she didn't seem too happy about the prospect since she said she would not be able to use her English skills. Needless to say, it was an eye opening experience for me and I know I gained far more from talking to her than she got in return.
Another day in MC Doug and I went to Dharmasala to the Gangchen Kyishong Complex (this is where the Tibetan Government in exile has their headquarter's). The Library of Tibetan Works and Arhives is in this complex and this is where Doug has been doing his Tibetan language training. The complex is relatively small and yet it is able to get the message of the Free Tibet movement out to the world. Apparently there is an entire government in place here ready to move in and take charge if Tibet is ever granted it's freedom. Unfortunately for these dedicated and proud people it will most likely never happen.
Doug and I also went for a little hike (we took a rickshaw up and down to the village) through a small Indian village above MG and The Tibetan Children's Village. The name of the village was Naddi and most of ithe inhabitant's are GADDI people. They are an ethnic group of shephards. The village was interesting...women doing laundry, tending gardens and talking to each other just like women do all over the world. There seemed to be an absence of men and I am assuming that they were probably with their flocks higher in the mountain's. The village was obviously poor, but for the most part clean and it's residents looked happy. The kids were cute and dressed in school uniforms on their way to a school we saw in the valley.
When we fly out of Leh tomorrow I will feel as if I am going back to India despite the fact that I have never left it. McCleod Ganj and to a greater sense Leh seem a world away from the India of Delhi, Amristar and Jammu. The air is clean, the pace is slower and the people are different; not only ethnically but, if I were to make a comparison with the US.....they are like midwesterner's.
Doug has been encouraging me to get up during the night and go out on the balcony and look at the stars. Last night I did and I have never seen anything like it. The heaven's looked like an astronomy book. I never imagined their could be so many stars in the sky, The moon is almost full so the only thing that could have made the stars brighter would have been no moon lighting the sky. Jim G....it would have been your star gazing dream come true!
Doug is woring for Rustic Pathways again this summer and beginning a few days after I leave he will be leading trips from Delhi to Ladahk taking, what I consider, very lucky teenager's to this part of the world. Hopefully it will make a lasting and meaningful impression on their life's.
Hopefully, we can find an internet cafe with a good connection and send this off today....otherwise it will be tomorrow in Agra.
I'm looking out my window at The Taj Mahal!
After a long day; a early morning flight from Leh to Delhi and then a five hour car drive to Agra we are here! Doug is going to up-load the posting's from the last few days which I was unable to send because of internet problems. We have wi-fi in our rooms here at The Taj Hotel (talk about seeing different faces of India) so I hope that tonight I'll catch up on the past few days. The trip has been so much more than I anticipated it to be........I'll share some more of my impression's and unique experience's tonight...
Monday, May 17, 2010
McCloud Ganj - I woke up to the monks and faithful chanting.
I woke up early this morning to the sound (there it is again....the SOUNDS I associate with this trip) coming from H.H. The Dali Lama's Temple, which is down the hill from where I am staying in McCloud Ganj,Hinachal Pradesh. Before I start talking about my stay in McCloud Ganj I'd like to play catch up and write about the days prior to getting here.
Going to Amristar, Punjah.....
I was surprised at what I perceived to be the lack of beggars on the streets of Delhi. Mind you,there were beggars, but not hordes of them which was my preconceived perception of what the street's of Delhi would be like. We left The Singh Son Hotel early around 6:30 in the morning as the city was just beginning to wake up....and what I hadn't seen before was evident; squatter's in their make shift homes, individuals asleep on the pavement and the beggar's...they were all there. The distance we traveled was from the Karol Bagh neighborhood to Delhi's North Railroad Station which did not take us through any slums, but nevertheless it was hard to see human beings and especially children living under these condition's. Inside the station there were also people sleeping.....were they stranded traveler's or homeless, I'm not 100% sure, perhaps a little of each. The train station itself was old, crowded, yet I assumed that the people walking, running and just sitting (or as they often do in India, "haunch'] all knew where they were going and what they were doing. After it all....it was a train station and station's all over the world lend themselves to that kind of organized confusion. Yesterday, I read in the newspaper that two people were trampled to death at the Delhi station when a track change had been posted and a stampede occurred as passengers were trying to get to the newly posted track. I think I need to revise my previous statement about "organized confusion" and go with "the station is utter chaos". Doug had purchased first class Air Conditioned (at this point in time you might wonder why I mention AC or Air Conditioned Taxi's all the time .....not all taxi's, hotels, restaurants and trains are air conditioned...when you have AC you pay a higher fare or rate. Air conditioning is still a luxury even when you live in a climate that has temperature's in excess of 100 degrees months on end.) tickets for us to travel five hours to Amritstar in the Indian state of Punjab. In Hindi, Punjab means "the nectar of the Gods". Punjab is the richest state in India and it's inhabitants are 56% Sikh. Punjab is also the the bread basket of India.
The train was old but clean. When the train left the station a bearer appeared dressed in clothing which I associate with the British Raj; complete with a turban type hat. He offered us a choice of newspapers in either Hindi or English (the majority of papers are printed in English and many of the Indian's in the train choose the English paper's). Next, a woman appeared and gave each passenger a rose and offered hard candy. Again, as if these two server/bearers took turn taking care of us the man appeared again giving us bottles of mineral water. Later we were offered coffee or tea with biscuits followed by a breakfast of corn flakes served with warm milk which DFO says is the morning cereal norm), omelets, and a side dish of peas, green beans and cheese. This was followed by more tea and coffee. Later we were given apple juice. The breakfast service took about two hours and was really nice and the attempt at offering "first class" was probably very Indian because the food was plated on plastic, and the tray the server's used looked like an old beat up oil pan.
When we arrived in Amristar I was finally in the India I had imagined! It was total chaos: people shouting, constant motion, beggars, Sikh's not only wearing turbans but wearing knifes or small looking sabers belted around their cloaks, men dressed in clothing I had never seen before, men dressed in the dhoti (I associate with pictures of Gandhi when he lead the struggle for India's independence from Britain), women dressed in colorful clothing adorned with sparking appliques that blinded you in the bright sunlight, sounds of horns constantly blowing and voices competing to be heard......it was what I was looking for and here I found it ALONG WITH A TEMPERATURE OF 114 degrees! It made me absolutely delirious with excitement. Doug quickly found us a three wheeled motorized open-air taxi and off we were to our hotel OR at least we thought! The driver stopped and said he could go no further (in retrospect we think he didn't know where the hotel was) and said we needed to get a rickshaw. We were out on the street and Doug quickly found a rickshaw driver to take us the rest of the way. We piled ourselves, my two bags and D's two small pieces of luggage into the rickshaw. We went down streets that were just wide enough for the rickshaw and lined with what once must have been beautiful wooden buildings with carved ornamentation which time and lack of proper maintenance has made look as if they would fall down any minute. The street level floors were occupied by merchant's sitting crossed legged on rope cots and the upper levels were house or apartments. Merchant's of the same kind are lined up on the same streets next to each other.....one street which was particularly interesting to me housed fabric merchants......colors, patterns and all types of fabric made the gray-brown shabbiness of the street dance with life! We did encounter a problem along the way.......along with having a driver who had to walk the rickshaw a great deal of the time (Doug said next time he would be sure NOT to hire an old guy) this driver, also did not know where the hotel was. He stopped twice and asked for directions, the third time Doug got out of the rickshaw and went with him (we were staying across from The Golden Temple....how hard could it have been?} I would like to have complained about the heat but one look at that exhausted, dripping in sweat old man made me resolve not to complain.
Later that afternoon Doug hired a driver and an AC car and we drove to Atari to watch the boarder closing. If you go on YouTube and do a search for Atari Border Ceremony you can see what we saw...........and to think that this happens each night, 365 days a year, even during the heat of the Indian-Pakistan problems it is amazing. The security was very tight..you could not take anything with you, not even a camera case (although cameras were allowed, purses and packs were not). You had to separate into male/female lines and were patted down by Indian soldier's (male/female). Because we were foreigner's we were directed to a V.I.P. seating area to view the ceremony. Before the ceremony started, Indian women and children were allowed to run up and down the street right up to the boarder gate car ring the Indian flag. Music started pouring out of a loud speaker.....it was Bollywood JAI HO sort of music and Indian women, children and a hand full of young western women began dancing.......I felt like I was watching a Bollywood movie.....everyone was smiling, having fun and the several thousand people in the stands were all cheering. This euphoria was enhanced by the 118 degree temperature, I had never seen anything like it. The music stopped and a tall man dressed in western civilian clothes came on to the street with a microphone (he reminded Doug and I of Bernie Botheryod he was tall,looked like him and he had the same commanding voice). He began shouting out things like VICTORY TO MOTHER INDIA and the crowds would repeat it and then he would encourage them to be louder and louder.........all this with a nuclear power, the country's resolved enemy less than fifty yards away. I could have never imagined this sort of nationalism. Being patriotic and proud of your country is one thing but this sort of behavior, which by all appearances was sponsored by or at the very least sanctioned by the military is terrifying. When I came to India I vowed that I would not make any value judgement's...
When we got back to Amristar and the evening cooled down to around 100 degrees we walked to The Golden Temple......hundred of people were sleeping on the cold marble for the evening (Doug and Kristen stayed in a private room there three years ago as guest of the Temple). The temple feeds about 40,000 people regardless of race, creed or color each day at no charge and they do not ask for donations either. We were asked on several occasions where we were from and if it was OK if we were photographed. When we went back to the temple the next morning we were once again asked the same questions. Before going back to the temple we walked over to the site of a massacre (I should remember the date of it, I'm sorry I don't . British soldier's under the command of their general opened fire and over a thousand Indian's were killed. A park is now memorializing the site and India's eternal light is placed in this park. In this somber setting we were asked multiple times to be photographed by young Indian's who obviously like westerner's.
A quick word about Sikhism.......there are approximately 26 millions Sikh's living around the world. In English the word SIKH translates to student or disciples. The basic tenant of Sikhism advocates the pursuit of salvation through disciplines, medication on the name and message of God. Sikh men are easily identified by the turban's covering their hair (which a true believe does not cut), his beard. At the Golden Temple, the holiest site for Sikh's you also see some of the other signs of their religion: the sword or saber worn on their person and a gold, silver or brass bangle bracket which is worn by Sikh men. Sikh's have a reputation for being fierce soldier's and it was two of Indira Gandhi's most loyal Sikh bodyguards who assassinated her. This assassination was a direct reaction to her sending Indian troops and occupying the Golden Temple.
Late in the morning we left via a hired jeep and driver to make the five hour drive to McCloud Ganj. The ride through the Punjah state via car as the day before via train took us through farming areas. We could see sunflowers in the fields, corn (vendors on the streets in Armistar selling corn on the cob and even pop corn),beans and crops that we didn't recognize. It appeared that the larger farms had one tall chimney structure were they fired bricks and all over the landscape you would see thatched beehive looking structured which apparently sheltered dried dung used as fuel.
We did see some chicken farms (large barrack like structures) but other than that the only livestock we saw was on the road......cattle cows, water buffalo. Irrigation trenches were everywhere and in the distance you could see some farmers with tractors (Daddy.....a few Fords) and of course plows being pulled by donkeys and buffalo. Time went by quickly with so much to look at.....then we left Punjab and the landscape and roads began to change. Hinachal Pradesh is the Indian state where McCloud Ganj is located. During the raj, the British established hill stations to escape the summer heat of Delhi and other Indian cities where the English were established. The roads up to these towns are narrow, winding and not for the faint of heart (more about Indian roads/drivers and horns later). I have to admit that I had my eye's closed a great deal of the time and often thought about Kristen's comments about driving in India...."I thought I was going to die".
Doug telephoned Kristen as we left Dharmasala and climbed to McCloud Ganj, she was already at my guest house anxiously awaiting our arrival. When our car pulled up to the Pema Thang there she was...her smile as bright as the sun and happy to see both of us.
My room here at Pema Thang is perfect. The room itself is simple, clean and most importantly for me....has a western toilet and shower. The plus is the balcony which over looks the Kangra Valley, the Dali Lama's Temple and Residence. Above the balcony and projecting out for the next fifty or sixty yards are prayer flags (Lung-Ta, literally meaning wind horse) which flutter in the wind (another SOUND I won't forget) The other sound which I can hear is the monks chanting, a deep throat ed sound....ummmmmmmm. In the distance I can see monks and faithful Buddhist doing the Kora (Circumambulating the temple)and spinning cho-kors (prayer wheels) as they make their way around the temple.
I will write more tomorrow...for the past half hour I have been writing in the dark and I want to post this before the battery on my computer runs out. This is the second night we have had a big lightning and thunder storm and the rain coming down on the tin roof is even louder than the sound of monkeys running on it during the night. The monsoon's are not suppose to begin for several weeks......I wonder if they are starting early?
Going to Amristar, Punjah.....
I was surprised at what I perceived to be the lack of beggars on the streets of Delhi. Mind you,there were beggars, but not hordes of them which was my preconceived perception of what the street's of Delhi would be like. We left The Singh Son Hotel early around 6:30 in the morning as the city was just beginning to wake up....and what I hadn't seen before was evident; squatter's in their make shift homes, individuals asleep on the pavement and the beggar's...they were all there. The distance we traveled was from the Karol Bagh neighborhood to Delhi's North Railroad Station which did not take us through any slums, but nevertheless it was hard to see human beings and especially children living under these condition's. Inside the station there were also people sleeping.....were they stranded traveler's or homeless, I'm not 100% sure, perhaps a little of each. The train station itself was old, crowded, yet I assumed that the people walking, running and just sitting (or as they often do in India, "haunch'] all knew where they were going and what they were doing. After it all....it was a train station and station's all over the world lend themselves to that kind of organized confusion. Yesterday, I read in the newspaper that two people were trampled to death at the Delhi station when a track change had been posted and a stampede occurred as passengers were trying to get to the newly posted track. I think I need to revise my previous statement about "organized confusion" and go with "the station is utter chaos". Doug had purchased first class Air Conditioned (at this point in time you might wonder why I mention AC or Air Conditioned Taxi's all the time .....not all taxi's, hotels, restaurants and trains are air conditioned...when you have AC you pay a higher fare or rate. Air conditioning is still a luxury even when you live in a climate that has temperature's in excess of 100 degrees months on end.) tickets for us to travel five hours to Amritstar in the Indian state of Punjab. In Hindi, Punjab means "the nectar of the Gods". Punjab is the richest state in India and it's inhabitants are 56% Sikh. Punjab is also the the bread basket of India.
The train was old but clean. When the train left the station a bearer appeared dressed in clothing which I associate with the British Raj; complete with a turban type hat. He offered us a choice of newspapers in either Hindi or English (the majority of papers are printed in English and many of the Indian's in the train choose the English paper's). Next, a woman appeared and gave each passenger a rose and offered hard candy. Again, as if these two server/bearers took turn taking care of us the man appeared again giving us bottles of mineral water. Later we were offered coffee or tea with biscuits followed by a breakfast of corn flakes served with warm milk which DFO says is the morning cereal norm), omelets, and a side dish of peas, green beans and cheese. This was followed by more tea and coffee. Later we were given apple juice. The breakfast service took about two hours and was really nice and the attempt at offering "first class" was probably very Indian because the food was plated on plastic, and the tray the server's used looked like an old beat up oil pan.
When we arrived in Amristar I was finally in the India I had imagined! It was total chaos: people shouting, constant motion, beggars, Sikh's not only wearing turbans but wearing knifes or small looking sabers belted around their cloaks, men dressed in clothing I had never seen before, men dressed in the dhoti (I associate with pictures of Gandhi when he lead the struggle for India's independence from Britain), women dressed in colorful clothing adorned with sparking appliques that blinded you in the bright sunlight, sounds of horns constantly blowing and voices competing to be heard......it was what I was looking for and here I found it ALONG WITH A TEMPERATURE OF 114 degrees! It made me absolutely delirious with excitement. Doug quickly found us a three wheeled motorized open-air taxi and off we were to our hotel OR at least we thought! The driver stopped and said he could go no further (in retrospect we think he didn't know where the hotel was) and said we needed to get a rickshaw. We were out on the street and Doug quickly found a rickshaw driver to take us the rest of the way. We piled ourselves, my two bags and D's two small pieces of luggage into the rickshaw. We went down streets that were just wide enough for the rickshaw and lined with what once must have been beautiful wooden buildings with carved ornamentation which time and lack of proper maintenance has made look as if they would fall down any minute. The street level floors were occupied by merchant's sitting crossed legged on rope cots and the upper levels were house or apartments. Merchant's of the same kind are lined up on the same streets next to each other.....one street which was particularly interesting to me housed fabric merchants......colors, patterns and all types of fabric made the gray-brown shabbiness of the street dance with life! We did encounter a problem along the way.......along with having a driver who had to walk the rickshaw a great deal of the time (Doug said next time he would be sure NOT to hire an old guy) this driver, also did not know where the hotel was. He stopped twice and asked for directions, the third time Doug got out of the rickshaw and went with him (we were staying across from The Golden Temple....how hard could it have been?} I would like to have complained about the heat but one look at that exhausted, dripping in sweat old man made me resolve not to complain.
Later that afternoon Doug hired a driver and an AC car and we drove to Atari to watch the boarder closing. If you go on YouTube and do a search for Atari Border Ceremony you can see what we saw...........and to think that this happens each night, 365 days a year, even during the heat of the Indian-Pakistan problems it is amazing. The security was very tight..you could not take anything with you, not even a camera case (although cameras were allowed, purses and packs were not). You had to separate into male/female lines and were patted down by Indian soldier's (male/female). Because we were foreigner's we were directed to a V.I.P. seating area to view the ceremony. Before the ceremony started, Indian women and children were allowed to run up and down the street right up to the boarder gate car ring the Indian flag. Music started pouring out of a loud speaker.....it was Bollywood JAI HO sort of music and Indian women, children and a hand full of young western women began dancing.......I felt like I was watching a Bollywood movie.....everyone was smiling, having fun and the several thousand people in the stands were all cheering. This euphoria was enhanced by the 118 degree temperature, I had never seen anything like it. The music stopped and a tall man dressed in western civilian clothes came on to the street with a microphone (he reminded Doug and I of Bernie Botheryod he was tall,looked like him and he had the same commanding voice). He began shouting out things like VICTORY TO MOTHER INDIA and the crowds would repeat it and then he would encourage them to be louder and louder.........all this with a nuclear power, the country's resolved enemy less than fifty yards away. I could have never imagined this sort of nationalism. Being patriotic and proud of your country is one thing but this sort of behavior, which by all appearances was sponsored by or at the very least sanctioned by the military is terrifying. When I came to India I vowed that I would not make any value judgement's...
When we got back to Amristar and the evening cooled down to around 100 degrees we walked to The Golden Temple......hundred of people were sleeping on the cold marble for the evening (Doug and Kristen stayed in a private room there three years ago as guest of the Temple). The temple feeds about 40,000 people regardless of race, creed or color each day at no charge and they do not ask for donations either. We were asked on several occasions where we were from and if it was OK if we were photographed. When we went back to the temple the next morning we were once again asked the same questions. Before going back to the temple we walked over to the site of a massacre (I should remember the date of it, I'm sorry I don't . British soldier's under the command of their general opened fire and over a thousand Indian's were killed. A park is now memorializing the site and India's eternal light is placed in this park. In this somber setting we were asked multiple times to be photographed by young Indian's who obviously like westerner's.
A quick word about Sikhism.......there are approximately 26 millions Sikh's living around the world. In English the word SIKH translates to student or disciples. The basic tenant of Sikhism advocates the pursuit of salvation through disciplines, medication on the name and message of God. Sikh men are easily identified by the turban's covering their hair (which a true believe does not cut), his beard. At the Golden Temple, the holiest site for Sikh's you also see some of the other signs of their religion: the sword or saber worn on their person and a gold, silver or brass bangle bracket which is worn by Sikh men. Sikh's have a reputation for being fierce soldier's and it was two of Indira Gandhi's most loyal Sikh bodyguards who assassinated her. This assassination was a direct reaction to her sending Indian troops and occupying the Golden Temple.
Late in the morning we left via a hired jeep and driver to make the five hour drive to McCloud Ganj. The ride through the Punjah state via car as the day before via train took us through farming areas. We could see sunflowers in the fields, corn (vendors on the streets in Armistar selling corn on the cob and even pop corn),beans and crops that we didn't recognize. It appeared that the larger farms had one tall chimney structure were they fired bricks and all over the landscape you would see thatched beehive looking structured which apparently sheltered dried dung used as fuel.
We did see some chicken farms (large barrack like structures) but other than that the only livestock we saw was on the road......cattle cows, water buffalo. Irrigation trenches were everywhere and in the distance you could see some farmers with tractors (Daddy.....a few Fords) and of course plows being pulled by donkeys and buffalo. Time went by quickly with so much to look at.....then we left Punjab and the landscape and roads began to change. Hinachal Pradesh is the Indian state where McCloud Ganj is located. During the raj, the British established hill stations to escape the summer heat of Delhi and other Indian cities where the English were established. The roads up to these towns are narrow, winding and not for the faint of heart (more about Indian roads/drivers and horns later). I have to admit that I had my eye's closed a great deal of the time and often thought about Kristen's comments about driving in India...."I thought I was going to die".
Doug telephoned Kristen as we left Dharmasala and climbed to McCloud Ganj, she was already at my guest house anxiously awaiting our arrival. When our car pulled up to the Pema Thang there she was...her smile as bright as the sun and happy to see both of us.
My room here at Pema Thang is perfect. The room itself is simple, clean and most importantly for me....has a western toilet and shower. The plus is the balcony which over looks the Kangra Valley, the Dali Lama's Temple and Residence. Above the balcony and projecting out for the next fifty or sixty yards are prayer flags (Lung-Ta, literally meaning wind horse) which flutter in the wind (another SOUND I won't forget) The other sound which I can hear is the monks chanting, a deep throat ed sound....ummmmmmmm. In the distance I can see monks and faithful Buddhist doing the Kora (Circumambulating the temple)and spinning cho-kors (prayer wheels) as they make their way around the temple.
I will write more tomorrow...for the past half hour I have been writing in the dark and I want to post this before the battery on my computer runs out. This is the second night we have had a big lightning and thunder storm and the rain coming down on the tin roof is even louder than the sound of monkeys running on it during the night. The monsoon's are not suppose to begin for several weeks......I wonder if they are starting early?
Sometimes...even KVO is at a loss for words.
My initial intention was to write a posting each day. It has taken me this long to begin to put formulate my impression's into sentences. I have been jotting down single words into my journal. I thought that would be the most spontaneous way remembering my reaction's to My experience's and first impression's. The first two and a half days in India were over-whelming and I couldn't think (and I know that even at this point in time I will not do it justice) of how to express MY reaction to India. The two words that still come first to my mind are color and sound. If color has a birthplace it has to have been in India; the color of the saris and Sikh's turbans are incredible.....I can close my eye's and see an explosion of incredible color and color combination's.....never have I seen color like this before! Sound........horns (later I will write about horns), barking dogs (whoever said "only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun" should be happy to know that the dogs are obviously sleeping all day now and out barking during the night), the sound of Hindi, beautifully accented English, Urdu, - it isn't until you fall into a deep sleep that you stop hearing noise.
I think I was prepared for what I would encounter here so except for one occasion, (which I will talk about later)my only real shock was when D&K I were having ice cream on the roof of a building, over=looking Temple Road, here in McCloud Ganj when Doug said "don't be shocked but look behind you" and there was a big monkey on the railing of the balcony! Doug, Kristen and I were sitting on the balcony of my guest house room late this afternoon when three monkey's appeared on the roof across from us and earlier in the day we were at their apartment and monkey's were also on the balcony. I don't think I'll ever get use to them!
When I arrived in Delhi I was surprised to find an efficient, user-friendly airport. Indira Gandhi International Airport is old (Doug tells me that the domestic terminal is new) and well worn, albeit, not necessarily dirty ....it reminded me of LaGuardia Airport (sorry Judy). Doug was waiting for me and had a taxi waiting (actually he and the taxi waited for an hour and a half because of the flight delay - at O'Hare we were told they had to remove a passenger and then look for his/her luggage -no further explanation). Out hotel was clean and adequate. The hotel served a nice breakfast....it would have been nicer if I had known what to do with some of the food. For example: this nice man was telling me about the buffet choices and corn flakes looked like a safe, easy entry into the world of Indian cuisine (adventurous eater I am not). The next thing he showed me was, was curd and since I didn't see any milk, I put it on my cereal. When I sat down Doug looked at it and told me the milk was at the end of the buffet; out of stubbornness and not wanting the man to think I made a mistake, I ate it as
if this is what I do each day! The metro system is about two year's old, easy to use (all signs and instructions (written and oral) are in both Hindi and in English and a lot faster than battling the car/bus/ and truck traffic. Delhi is shrouded in a gray polluted haze and the number one cause of all this pollution is from gasoline motors. When you entered a metro station you had to put whatever you are carrying onto a metal detector and file into separate male/female lines to be patted down with a wand. The station is patrolled by police officer's caring automatic rifles. makes me wonder if this form of security will be coming to the New York subway or Chicago L before long.
The metro is of course crowded; at one point in time the door in our car wouldn't close...easy problem for passenger's to solve......don't get off, just shove yourself further into the car. Needless to say it was crowded as all get out (smelly too!)
That morning we visited Humayun's Tomb, he was the 16th century son of the mogul emperor Babar. From there we took a rickshaw to India Gate and then proceed to walk the two mile The Central Secretariat's. Along the way we witnessed a kind act of compassion. We saw a Bud hist monk laying on the grass, vomiting and obviously suffering from heatstroke (remember the "Mad dogs and Englishmen" saying.....well on this particular day it was a monk,Douglas and I who were out in the midday son). Two young Indian men came to the monks aid; one took his cloak, rolled up his own pants legs, took off his shoes and went into a canal running along the park and wet the cloak. He then rung it out and placed it over the monk. Doug gave the monk what was left of our water.
We spent most of that afternoon in the National Museum, had an early dinner and called it a night....talking about calling it a night, I am struggling to keep my eye's open so I will write more in the morning.....i HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE...I'm FADING FAST.h
I think I was prepared for what I would encounter here so except for one occasion, (which I will talk about later)my only real shock was when D&K I were having ice cream on the roof of a building, over=looking Temple Road, here in McCloud Ganj when Doug said "don't be shocked but look behind you" and there was a big monkey on the railing of the balcony! Doug, Kristen and I were sitting on the balcony of my guest house room late this afternoon when three monkey's appeared on the roof across from us and earlier in the day we were at their apartment and monkey's were also on the balcony. I don't think I'll ever get use to them!
When I arrived in Delhi I was surprised to find an efficient, user-friendly airport. Indira Gandhi International Airport is old (Doug tells me that the domestic terminal is new) and well worn, albeit, not necessarily dirty ....it reminded me of LaGuardia Airport (sorry Judy). Doug was waiting for me and had a taxi waiting (actually he and the taxi waited for an hour and a half because of the flight delay - at O'Hare we were told they had to remove a passenger and then look for his/her luggage -no further explanation). Out hotel was clean and adequate. The hotel served a nice breakfast....it would have been nicer if I had known what to do with some of the food. For example: this nice man was telling me about the buffet choices and corn flakes looked like a safe, easy entry into the world of Indian cuisine (adventurous eater I am not). The next thing he showed me was, was curd and since I didn't see any milk, I put it on my cereal. When I sat down Doug looked at it and told me the milk was at the end of the buffet; out of stubbornness and not wanting the man to think I made a mistake, I ate it as
if this is what I do each day! The metro system is about two year's old, easy to use (all signs and instructions (written and oral) are in both Hindi and in English and a lot faster than battling the car/bus/ and truck traffic. Delhi is shrouded in a gray polluted haze and the number one cause of all this pollution is from gasoline motors. When you entered a metro station you had to put whatever you are carrying onto a metal detector and file into separate male/female lines to be patted down with a wand. The station is patrolled by police officer's caring automatic rifles. makes me wonder if this form of security will be coming to the New York subway or Chicago L before long.
The metro is of course crowded; at one point in time the door in our car wouldn't close...easy problem for passenger's to solve......don't get off, just shove yourself further into the car. Needless to say it was crowded as all get out (smelly too!)
That morning we visited Humayun's Tomb, he was the 16th century son of the mogul emperor Babar. From there we took a rickshaw to India Gate and then proceed to walk the two mile The Central Secretariat's. Along the way we witnessed a kind act of compassion. We saw a Bud hist monk laying on the grass, vomiting and obviously suffering from heatstroke (remember the "Mad dogs and Englishmen" saying.....well on this particular day it was a monk,Douglas and I who were out in the midday son). Two young Indian men came to the monks aid; one took his cloak, rolled up his own pants legs, took off his shoes and went into a canal running along the park and wet the cloak. He then rung it out and placed it over the monk. Doug gave the monk what was left of our water.
We spent most of that afternoon in the National Museum, had an early dinner and called it a night....talking about calling it a night, I am struggling to keep my eye's open so I will write more in the morning.....i HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE...I'm FADING FAST.h
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Leaving today.....
If I'm not ready to leave at this very minute; there is truly something wrong with me. My bags have been packed for weeks, I've had my shots, I've said last minute good-byes to the T's and Jamie and the Bang shower week-end is history. I have to confess , I'm in love with Sophie Badia....she is so cute, her mind operates like the biggest computer IBM has ever made and she adores Bishop. (That old expression "love me, love my dog" does extend to cats, or at least mine).
Doug has given me last minute "just in case" instructions, told me the best place to exchange dollars for rupees. where to get a pre-paid cab and phonetic instructions on how to tell the cabbie where I want to go - The Singh Son Hotel in the Channa Market, near the Karol Bagh Metro. That will probably be the mantra I will be saying as a sleep tonight . The flight is fifteen hour's long and a non-stop Chicago - Delhi. . . I hope they have a good movie or two or three or four or.......that my Tylenol P.M. works.
I think I have memorized (my pronunciation is probably horrible and I won't be able to be understood) the following "Words to know" which DFO has told me I need to know:
NAMASTE (Hindi) Hello and goodbye (literally "I salute the divine within you")
SALAAM ALEIKUM (Urdu) Hello
DHAN-YA-VAD (Hindi) Thank you
SHU-KRI-YA (Urdu) Thank you
TA-SHI-DE-LEY (Tibetan) Hello
TU-JAY-CHAY (Tibetan) Thank you
JEW-LAY (Ladakhi) Hello, good-bye, thank you, It's good. DFO said it is the most
important word you can
know in Ladakh and by
far the most fun to say
Until I get to India ......Namaste
Doug has given me last minute "just in case" instructions, told me the best place to exchange dollars for rupees. where to get a pre-paid cab and phonetic instructions on how to tell the cabbie where I want to go - The Singh Son Hotel in the Channa Market, near the Karol Bagh Metro. That will probably be the mantra I will be saying as a sleep tonight . The flight is fifteen hour's long and a non-stop Chicago - Delhi. . . I hope they have a good movie or two or three or four or.......that my Tylenol P.M. works.
I think I have memorized (my pronunciation is probably horrible and I won't be able to be understood) the following "Words to know" which DFO has told me I need to know:
NAMASTE (Hindi) Hello and goodbye (literally "I salute the divine within you")
SALAAM ALEIKUM (Urdu) Hello
DHAN-YA-VAD (Hindi) Thank you
SHU-KRI-YA (Urdu) Thank you
TA-SHI-DE-LEY (Tibetan) Hello
TU-JAY-CHAY (Tibetan) Thank you
JEW-LAY (Ladakhi) Hello, good-bye, thank you, It's good. DFO said it is the most
important word you can
know in Ladakh and by
far the most fun to say
Until I get to India ......Namaste
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
In preparation for this trip I have been doing a considerable amount of reading beyond the usual travel guides. Doug has recommended several books as well as friend's - in the event you are interested in reading or at the very least perusing a few of these books, here is my "Working on my Bucket List" bibliography.
Doug recommended:
Journey to Ladakh - Andrew Harvey
In Exile from the Land of Snows- John Avendon
Beneath a Marble Sky - John Shors (Historical Fiction)
Kristen recommended:
In Spite of the Gods, The Rise of Modern India - Edward Luce
Ute recoomended and graciously loaned me:
The Age of Kali - William Dalrymple
Indian Summer - Alex Von Tunzelmann
India, A Million Mutinies Now - V.S. Naipaul (Fiction)
Judy recommended and I bought this book for a fast, easy read on the airplane:
The Space Between Us - Thrity Umrigar (Fiction)
I've been reading:
The Art of Tibet - Robert E. Fisher
Myths and Symbols in Indian Art - Heinrich Robert Gimmer
Staying On - Paul Scott (Fiction)
Doug recommended:
Journey to Ladakh - Andrew Harvey
In Exile from the Land of Snows- John Avendon
Beneath a Marble Sky - John Shors (Historical Fiction)
Kristen recommended:
In Spite of the Gods, The Rise of Modern India - Edward Luce
Ute recoomended and graciously loaned me:
The Age of Kali - William Dalrymple
Indian Summer - Alex Von Tunzelmann
India, A Million Mutinies Now - V.S. Naipaul (Fiction)
Judy recommended and I bought this book for a fast, easy read on the airplane:
The Space Between Us - Thrity Umrigar (Fiction)
I've been reading:
The Art of Tibet - Robert E. Fisher
Myths and Symbols in Indian Art - Heinrich Robert Gimmer
Staying On - Paul Scott (Fiction)
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Yesterday, was May 1st and I started my regiment of SUPER PROBIOTIC, digestive support, capsules to protect me from "Delhi-Belly"! I hope it works.....each capsule contains 20 billion active cultures of Lactobacillus Acidophilus and Bifidobacterium Lactis. Tommy and Jamie.... remember when you were little boys, if you were sick I would tell you stories about how the germs "the bad guys" were fighting a battle inside your body against the red and white blood cells (the "good guys") and that was the reason you were feeling badly? You both loved stories like that and loved adding your own creative and colorful details to each story. I am imagining that the 20 billion active cultures I will be ingesting each day will be fighting a battle against any germs that come my way! Germs beware: There will be a big battle if you start messing around with me and my SUPER probiotics!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)