Drokpa Journal

Dates Traveled: September 2001 - July 2002
(I spent a total of about 6 1/2 months actually in India during that time)

April, after my travels in Sri Lanka
Back to India

A short 40-minute flight back to Trivandrum in India had me asking, “Where did all these people come from? Who turned up the heat? Is all this noise necessary? And why can’t you understand that I don’t need a rickshaw?”

Kovalam

First stop back on the sub-continent was south of Trivandrum in the beach town of Kovalam. It was the offseason, so accommodations were cheap, but there were very few people. Those of us that were there saw a beach that was now black instead of white, and thus extremely hot. Did enjoy hanging out at night in restaurants watching movies and eating fresh seafood. Took a trip further south into Tamil Nadu one day to visit the palace of Padmanabhapuram, which was good.

Kollam & Backwater Trip

Next stop, Kollam, where I scheduled a few backwater trips. The first was in a small boat punted along a canal and lake, where I witnessed coir making. They take the fibers from the coconut and weave them together to make a very strong rope. The following day I boarded a larger boat for the 8-hour trip from Kollam to Alleppey through the backwaters. A very relaxing day, as I simply sat on deck and watched the world go by. It was a more relaxing mode of transportation than the bus/train, but neither backwater trip were as good as similar trips I’d had in Honduras or Nicaragua, as these in Kerala weren’t as primitive.

Fort Cochin

From Alleppey I caught a bus and ferry to Fort Cochin, which was a relaxing little place where I celebrated my third New Year - this time Hindu. As throughout the backwaters, there are many Chinese fishing nets on the coast of Fort Cochin. These are platforms in the water with a long counter-balanced arm. This arm extends out to four poles, which hold the 4 corners of a net. The net is lowered into the water, raising the long arm. After some time, 4-5 men haul on ropes to lower the arm, thereby raising the net. Pretty interesting to watch. At night, you could go down by the water, pick your seafood, and have a little shack there fix it for you for next to nothing. I also braved the excessive heat to walk to the palace, which had some well-preserved murals on the wall, and then continued through the aromatic spice market.

One night, I went to a famous Kathakali play. You could arrive early and watch them prepare their makeup, and then there was a brief demonstration of facial expressions and hand motions, since Kathakali is a non-speaking performance. However, only in India can you be deafened by a ’silent’ play - the drums and cymbals were a bit loud! The performance was good, the makeup expressive, and the costumes spectacular. A normal play lasts for many hours - maybe 6 to 9, but this was just over one hour to account for our limited attention spans.

Munnar Hill Station

As it was excessively hot on the Kerala coast, I opted to head inland to the hill stations. Higher elevations, and cooler temps. From the offseason of the coast to the high season of the hill stations. A 5-hour bus trip had me arriving at Munnar, situated at 1524 m. It was a nice little town, with a good market and some possibilities for short hikes in the area. It was good to stretch the legs again. A few days later I was heading towards Top Station. I was waiting for a bus - along with 4 other travelers, but when it was late we opted for a share jeep. Like most hill stations, the jeeps are a main means of transport, and like other forms of Indian transport, they are overcrowded. The jeep can comfortably accommodate 10, so the Indians pack in 18. Most distressing is the 5 in the front seat, such that the driver doesn’t sit behind the steering wheel, but is pressed against the door. We had gone about halfway when another jeep came careening around a bend in our lane. The two jeeps made contact along the entire side, swapping paint, glass, taillights, bumpers, etc. I was on the opposite side and so unhurt, but a couple women got some cuts - one requiring stitches. Figure we were lucky, as I later heard of several that have been killed or badly injured. Once I finally reached Top Station I found a guy to take me trekking for the day. We set out on what was to become a 9-1/2 hour trek. We saw tea plantations, local villages, tribal villages, good scenery, deer, and bison. Back at his place it was dinner (cooked on wood-burning stove) by candlelight (no electricity). A good day. The following day he pointed me towards the correct path and I started walking down with all my gear. After 3 hours I came to a small village where I caught the first of 4 buses to eventually take me up to 2100 meters and Kodaikanal.

Kodaikanal

I really enjoyed Kodaikanal, and I’m not just saying that because of the many shops selling homemade chocolates! It’s situated on a lake, and there are some walks in the vicinity with great views. The cooler temperatures at that altitude had me feeling like a new man, and I enjoyed the little walks. The best thing I saw during one of my hikes was a woman cutting the green on a golf course. She was simply sitting there and pulling any grass by hand that was too tall. Welcome to India, where there are many hands to do small tasks.

Udhagamandalam (Ooty)

A 9-hour bus journey from Kodaikanal had me down to the hot plains and then back up to 2240 meters and Udhagamandalam (Ooty to his friends). Spent a little over a day here, and enjoyed the well laid-out botanical gardens, but didn’t like Ooty as much as the other hill stations I’d visited.

Hampi

I decided to break my onward journey, so dropped back down to Mysore for the evening before catching a 10-hour overnight bus to Hospet and then a 1/2-hour bus to Hampi. The ruins here were excellent, set among boulder outcrops and banana trees. It was extremely hot, which is why it’s the offseason - most are smarter than to be here with the 45 C/113 F temps, but not yours truly. Because of that, many restaurants were closed, but the up-side was that I got a decent room for US$1.49.

Badami

Next stop, Badami, and it’s impressive cave carvings, temples, and forts. It was also fun to wander the narrow streets of the town and see what the locals were up to.

Goa

As of my trip to Panaji, I’d decided that I was taking too many long bus journeys on too many overcrowded and outdated buses on too many atrocious and bumpy roads with too many inconsiderate people in too hot a climate. I thought I may snap, as it was simply too hot for anything. More endurance than enjoyment at that time. I’d talked to some locals, and they said it was even hotter than normal. Lucky me. I had planned on hitting the remote beaches of Gokarna (Karnataka state) and Palolem (Goa state), but transportation was difficult in the offseason, so I went directly to the capital of Goa - Panaji. I spent a few days in the area, making the short trip to Old Goa and the massive Portuguese churches, though much of my time was spent trying to stay cool. I was actually glad to see the Indians down there from Mumbai as miserable as I was and sweating just as much.

It was while in Goa that I once again encountered a lack of common sense that can make travel in India so frustrating. Previously I’d witnessed what happens at railway crossings. Rather than all vehicles waiting in their lane until the train passes, they take the opportunity to ‘pass’ other vehicles - spreading out sideways along the road. Unfortunately, they haven’t seemed to learn that the people on the opposite side are doing the same thing, so when the train finally passes nobody can move - there is simply a stand-off of vehicles across the tracks. Another case is people attempting to board a bus/train before others have gotten off. Anyway, the latest was this - I was at a restaurant. The menu indicated they serve tomato sandwiches, cheese sandwiches, and onion sandwiches. Therefore, it seemed only natural that I should be able to get a cheese and tomato sandwich, right? Wrong.

“Sorry, Sir, not possible.”
“But you could serve me a tomato sandwich?”
“Yes”
“And you could serve me a cheese sandwich?”
“Yes”
“But you can’t put both on one sandwich?”
“No”

And I guess that’s right, because I never got my sandwich. Now I’d also been told earlier in the trip that “Everything’s possible in India with backsheesh”, but I didn’t really feel like resorting to bribery for a simple sandwich.

Mumbai (formerly Bombay)

As it was early May in Goa, there weren’t many travelers, and extremely hot, I opted to not go to any of the beaches. Instead, I made my way directly to Mumbai. As far as big cities go - particularly big Indian cities, Mumbai wasn’t bad. It had some great market streets where one could wander aimlessly; a nice setting along the water where one could stroll at sunset; and a fish market at Sassoon docks that provided great sights - if not smells, early in the morning. Add to that the fact that Mumbai is a modern city, so it was easy to take care of tickets, etc., and it was a relatively hassle-free couple of days.

Ellora & Ajanta Caves

From Mumbai I made my way to the World Heritage Sites of Ellora and Ajanta caves. Ellora was quite impressive, as there were a total of 34 caves - 12 Buddhist, 17 Hindu, and 5 Jain, from the period of about 600-1200. Some were 2-3 stories in height, with huge pillars left for strength/decoration. There were intricately carved Buddhas, Hindu Gods, carved panels, ornate facades, and even a simulated wood-ribbed ceiling in one. Most spectacular was the Hindu Kailash temple, which took 7000 workers 150 years to complete, as they had to remove 200,000 tons of rock. I was impressed with the effort, skill, and imagination to create all the caves/temples from a blank cliff face.

The 27 Buddhist caves of Ajanta are known more for their detailed frescoes, though in truth they were in poor condition and difficult to see the details. I didn’t think the actual cave carvings were as detailed as those at Ellora, but since the Ajanta caves predated those at Ellora, that is understandable.

Bhopal & Sanchi

I next made my way to Bhopal. Now why would anyone willingly come to the site of the world’s worst industrial accident, which occurred in 1984 when there was a toxic leak from the Union Carbide plant? It was either deal with 18 year old toxic gas or present-day Hindu-Muslim rioting in the state of Gujarat…I opted for Bhopal. Actually, Bhopal was simply the nearest place to stay and reach the Buddhist ruins of Sanchi, where there were some impressive stupas and monastic ruins containing detailed carvings.

Khajuraho - The Kama Sutra in Stone

Next stop (and don’t misinterpret the speed with which this happens. This is India, after all, so it was a bus journey split over a couple of days) - Khajuraho. There were some nice Hindu and Jain temples in what is termed the Eastern complex, but it was the infamous temples in the Western complex that are the main attraction. The 10 temples in this well-manicured, walled enclosure are covered with detailed carvings. There are various scenes of everyday life, and celestial maidens that pout and pose, but the most popular carvings are the erotic one’s which seem to bring the Kama Sutra to life. You name it and you could see it carved in stone.

Agra Area

I needed to pass back through Agra, so took a short day-trip out to Fatehpur Sikri, the capital of the Mughal Empire between 1571 and 1585, and now a World Heritage Site (which meant I paid 250 rupees - about US$5, to enter, and locals paid 10 rupees). There were some massive sandstone buildings, a mosque patterned after the one in Mecca, and more intricate carvings. In all, a nice place to wile away a few hours simply wandering about. The worst part about the day-trip was seeing the ‘dancing bears’ chained along the roadside and made to perform. Same can be seen with monkeys. Sad.

Jaipur

I next headed to an area of India that most people enjoy - the state of Rajasthan. This is the same state where I attended the camel fair in November of last year, so had great expectations. My first stop was Jaipur - the pink city, so called because of the red sandstone used in the buildings. There are impressive gates through the wall into the old city, and many bazaars and shop areas - mostly dealing in gems and textiles. I enjoyed wandering aimlessly through the narrow streets of the old city. At one point I had about 20 small children following me - we were a noisy procession, so everybody had to pop their head out of their home/shop to see what all the commotion was about. One interesting stop in Jaipur is the observatory, which was a large courtyard filled with various instruments designed to observe and measure the stars and planets. Looked more like a courtyard of modern art. My first night in town I was wandering deserted streets after dark getting back to my room when I had the following conversation with a rickshaw driver who jumped out and ran over to me:
“Hello friend, can you tell me about life in Europe?”
“Uhh…I’m from the States.”
“But you’ve probably traveled to Europe, right?” (A quick recovery on his part)
“Yes.”
“Maybe we can go have a drink and you can tell me about it.”
“No thanks. Not interested in being drugged and robbed tonight. Maybe some other time.”
He didn’t seem too put out by the comment, so I figure I was close to the truth. He simply seemed too eager to get me to have a drink in some small out-of-the-way shop. Always an adventure.

The following night I decided to partake of a Hindi movie at a well-known-in-India theater. It wasn’t the same as I expected and had seen before, as this was a recent film with some of India’s top actors. They still overacted, and there were a couple song/dance sequences, but it wasn’t a typical Bollywood ‘masala’ (a bit of everything) movie. I obviously couldn’t understand most of what was said, but could follow the plot. It was interesting to hear English words/phrases thrown in - seemingly at random, and to see that the actors - most notably the men, didn’t look Indian. I’d noticed previously in print ads that when they want to indicate something is trendy or modern, they use Western people, or Western-looking Indians. This is also apparent in the fake brand-name clothing that the young Indians have taken to wearing to emulate the West. The world is becoming homogenized, and even parts of India are falling in.

Udaipur

I next visited Udaipur, and really enjoyed the city. The former palace where I was staying had a great rooftop restaurant with views over the lake and other palaces. Now some of you may get the wrong impression if you see that I stayed in a former palace, so I need to set the record straight - cost for the night…US$2.13. Can’t complain. I liked the feel of Udaipur, with its narrow streets, lake, numerous palaces, relaxed atmosphere, nice museums, traditional performances, and numerous rooftop restaurants. My place was typical of the area, as it showed 2 movies every night, with one of them being the James Bond movie, Octopussy. The reason? A lot of the movie was filmed on location in Udaipur, so you could watch the movie and then check over your shoulder to the Lake Palace and confirm - “Yep, that’s the one in the movie.”

Hill Station of Mt. Abu

As I was again tired of battling the 40+ C degree heat (104 F), I made my way to the only hill-station in Rajasthan - Mt. Abu, to relish the temperatures for a few days at the 1200-meter level. I enjoyed wandering around Mt. Abu, with its requisite hill-station lake. There weren’t many Westerners, but the place was loaded with Indians escaping the heat of the plains. I was greeted in Mt. Abu with a new mode of transportation. It was basically a wagon such as you had as a kid - 8″ deep, 3 1/2′ long X 2 1/2′ wide, mounted on 8″ wheels. A few people can sit in this and be pushed along - preferable by a Rajasthani man in a bright turban and curled mustache. Makes for some good pictures. The most incredible sight in/around Mt. Abu - and probably ranking as one of the best things I saw in India, were the Dilwara Jain temples about 3 km from town. There were 2 main temples, begun in 1031 and 1230 respectively. The main temples have intricately carved marble pillars, ceilings, friezes, etc. The detail is incredible. The entrance had a three-dimensional lotus flower opening up from the ceiling down towards the floor, framed by many other carvings. It was forbidden to take pictures of the temples, so I actually broke down and bought a few, as otherwise one can’t imagine the nature of the temples. Spectacular. I was probably more impressed with them than the Taj Mahal.

Jodhpur

On my journey to the blue city - Jodhpur, I saw many women carrying spittoon-shaped metal containers of water on their heads. I’ve also seen many local women - typically wearing a red outfit, with heavy jewelry and white (formerly ivory, now plastic) bracelets up each arm…enough bracelets to virtually cover each arm. Very picturesque. Jodhpur has many narrow, winding streets, but I was eventually able to make my way up to the imposing fort that dominates the hill at the edge of town. After wandering through the museum and royal rooms, I simply sat overlooking the old city. There are many homes painted various shades of blue - some with green doors/shutters…a combination I’ve always liked. All houses have a flat roof with short railings, so I saw many people on their roofs at sunset, with many kids attempting to fly the small kites that are prevalent throughout India and Nepal. A tranquil scene. Back in town, and from the rooftop of my guesthouse, I could look up to the fort, which was lit up at night. Also serene.

Jaisalmer

Another city, another color of the rainbow…the golden city of Jaisalmer, which sits in the Thar desert. I enjoyed wandering around the narrow streets, looking at the numerous havelis (mansions) and roaming within the walled fort. It was especially nice to see the sandstone buildings shining golden in the setting sun. The Rajasthani men/women were also beautiful to see in town - the men in their bright turbans, pointed shoes, and mustaches curled up at the ends, the women in more subdued colors, but with heavy jewelry and more of a sexy top than the normal sari in other parts of India. There was a group hanging about on the streets - playing instruments and trying to sell some cheap trinkets. I asked to be able to take a few pictures and they agreed, but for a price. The cost? I had to buy the group of 10-15 people tea, and biscuits for the kids. The best $1.50 I’d spent in some time.

Jaisalmer, like other cities in this region, has a large border security force - larger when I was there due to the India-Pakistan fighting in Kashmir. In fact, it was while I was in Jaisalmer that many Western countries told their citizens to get out of India as it looked as if there would be war. However, being in the area it seemed as if there wasn’t anything to worry about. Yes, there was a large buildup of military personnel on both sides - supposedly 1 million troops on the border. I’d been seeing troops moving towards Kashmir at every train station I’d been in since the Indian parliament was bombed on December 13th, so it was nothing new. Besides, the Kashmir issue has been going on since 1947, with a couple of short wars since that have solved nothing, so it simply seemed like business as usual.

Camel Safari

I was in Jaisalmer in early June. What does the Lonely Planet guidebook say about Jaisalmer? “Many places offer a low-season discount between April and August - but you’d be crazy to come here during this time, as Jaisalmer becomes hellishly hot.” Confirmation - I’m an idiot. You need more proof? I booked a two-day camel safari out into the desert. There were 4 of us - me on one camel, my ‘camel man’ Ketah, and his 11 year old son and 11 year old nephew on the other camel. I would have opted for something better if there were other travelers in town to share the experience, but on my own I simply opted for the standard trek - which wasn’t exactly remote. We stopped for lunch of curry and chapattis cooked over a fire, and also had a bit of the bird that Ketah had killed by slingshot - from the back of his camel! After waiting out the heat of the day we remounted our trusty steeds and walked to our campsite for the evening. After a good dinner and a few beers we bedded down for the night, which was simply blankets in a dry, sandy riverbed. We were telling stories, Ketah was singing, and we were enjoying looking up at the sky when, just before drifting off to sleep, Ketah said, “This is the season for snakes. In fact, my brother told me to make sure his son sleeps in the middle and not on an outside edge in case there is a problem.” Guess that explained the sleeping arrangements - Ketah and I had our blankets on the outside of the kids’. “Ketah - a suggestion. You may want to work on your ability to allay fears before you open your own guiding service!”

There are times when I’m in a strange situation that I wonder what others are up to. Having ridden my camel to this spot; lounging on a blanket in a dry, sandy riverbed; watching satellites and shooting stars dance across a starry stage; listening to the singing of a turbaned Rajasthani man; and hearing the farting of the camels picketed 20 yards away (for you’d be hard-pressed to find a more gas-filled bag of fur than a camel) was a moment that definitely made me wonder what family/friends were up to. And at 3 AM I was wondering why I couldn’t be wherever family/friends were, as the hot wind continually blasted us with sand throughout the night. I looked 10 years younger in the morning, as the grime of old age hand been sandblasted away, but everything was covered in sand as well. And what did we awaken to? A snake slithering across the sand about 20 meters away - poisonous according to Ketah. We also awoke to wild peacocks - the bird of Rajasthan, racing across the riverbed. I’d said before that I never got used to seeing kangaroos in the wild in Australia. The peacocks of Rajasthan were the same for me. It always seemed strange to see them running across the desert from the window of a passing bus. In the two days of ’safari’ I was on the camel for a total of about 8 1/2 hours. Much better than the 5 minutes I’d managed in Egypt several years ago, but it was more comfortable than I’d remembered.

Bikaner

I next headed to Bikaner, where I simply wandered through a few palaces, the fort, and museums, and enjoyed the narrow streets and life of the old city. My biggest disappointment while in Bikaner was that I didn’t go 30 km south to Karni Mata Temple - aka. the rat temple. I guess there are hundreds of thousands of rats that have free reign over the temple, as they’re considered reincarnations of mystics. It’s considered auspicious for rats to run across your feet (which of course are bare - this is a place of worship), and it’s very good luck to spot a rare white rat. Next time. This was my last town in Rajasthan, but I really enjoyed the state - so much color, many forts and walls on surrounding ridges, and friendly people.

Amritsar

Another town, another religion - Amritsar, and the Sikhs. Basically one bald guy wandering about a city where the religion dictates that men shouldn’t cut their hair. I went to the Golden Temple, and happened to catch it on a festival day, so there were many Sikhs there bathing in the lake, etc. A great atmosphere. The Golden Temple is magical - situated in a lake, with its gold dome shining in the sun.

Remember how I said that most Western countries had told their citizens to leave India, but that I considered it to still be relatively safe? Well, I now offer proof, as one evening I took a tuk-tuk the 30 kms from Amritsar to the Pakistani border, and I’m still here to send an update. It has to rank as one of the most bizarre rituals I’ve ever witnessed. The border security forces from each country - who looked as though they’d just stepped off the covers of a military GQ magazine, went through their drills/marching/barking of orders. There were concrete bleachers on the border for each ‘teams’ supporters - which must have numbered several hundred Indians (and me as the lone Western combatant), and I don’t know how many Pakistani’s on the other side. The security forces lowered their respective flag and then slammed the border gates shut for the day. This happens every night. It actually seemed like an Olympic event, with supporters from each side hurling insults across the border, and waving their respective country’s flag. The only indication that this was a potential war zone were the tanks and soldiers I had to pass about 1 km from the border. Memorable.

McLeod Ganj

After 2 months of exclusively 40 degree C heat - mostly 45 degrees (and subsequently not feeling like eating and losing 14 kgs/30 lbs), and not seeing other travelers, I made my way to McLeod Ganj. Situated at about 1700 meters, the cooler temperatures were a welcome relief. However, it was a bit of a shock, as in 10 minutes I saw more travelers than I’d seen combined in the previous 2 months. The main claim-to-fame of McLeod Ganj is as the home of the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan government in exile. I enjoyed hanging about for a few days - checking out monasteries, relaxing, enjoying the views, and witnessing the various institutions to preserve Tibetan culture.

Journey to Ladakh

I took a 10-hour bus ride to Manali, which was packed with Indians escaping the heat. The following morning I boarded an early-morning bus for the 6-hour trip to Keylong (had to stand or sit on my pack in the aisle the entire time, as I didn’t have a seat), and then left at 4 AM the following morning for the 15-hour bus trip to Leh in the region of Ladakh. The road - such as it is, crossed two major passes - one at 5060 m, and the other at 5328 m, making this the world’s second highest motorable road (highest is also in the Ladakh region). The road was mostly unsealed, and switch backed precariously along mountains, with a raging river flowing below. The roads are very narrow, so when we’d meet oncoming traffic it was always entertaining. Sometimes I would look out a window down to the ground, only to realize that we were so close to the edge, and the slope was so steep, that my first sight of land was the river hundreds of feet below. I didn’t see any buses down at the bottom, but did witness a few of the goods carrying trucks that hadn’t managed to negotiate the road (though that didn’t stop us from hitching free rides in these later in the trip. Found out why there were trucks on the bottom - no power steering. Thought we were going over a couple of times!). The scenery for the journey from Manali to Leh was spectacular, with snow-covered peaks, steep scree slopes, barren plateaus, and picturesque monasteries. It probably ranks as the most amazing road trip I’ve taken.

Leh

Leh - situated at 3505 m, is the capital of the region, and a great little town where I immediately felt at home. The people are more Tibetan in look and tradition, and very friendly. We were continually greeted with a smile and, “Jule” - pronounced joo-lay, which means hello, goodbye, please, and thank you in Ladakhi. There are many winding paths connecting the main areas of town, and there is an old palace and gompa (monastery) on the ridge above town. Climbing to a vantage point one is amazed at the contrasts of the region - the snow-covered peaks in the background; the barren, lunar-landscape look of the foreground area; and the green little oasis of Leh forged out of the desert-like surroundings. Leh is cut off from the world for about 7 months of the year, and the physical appearance of the locals reflects this harsh environment, as they are very hardy, with rugged ‘working’ hands.

Cham Festival at Hemis Monastery

We were fortunate to have arrived just before a few major festivals, so we headed to the Hemis Gompa on two consecutive days to see what it was all about. The gompa was typical of those in the area - whitewashed, with a red band near the top, flat-roofed, and some gold Buddhist ornamentation on top. Basically looking like the Potala palace in Lhasa, Tibet, that you may have seen in pictures. The festival consisted of monks dressed in bright costumes, and wearing large, colorful, expressive masks. They would dance in circles around the courtyard to the sound of drums, cymbals, and horns played by other monks. It was an incredible spectacle. I spent about half my time watching the performance, and the other half watching the locals in attendance. The old men were rugged looking, but it was the old women that caught my eye. Some had a sort of top hat, while others were sporting brightly knit stocking hats - pink or green. Their hair usually fell in two long braids, generally tied together at the ends. They wore heavy, large jewelry - often involving turquoise, and sometimes sported shoes that curled up at the ends. The really old had a goatskin tied to their backs, while the younger women had an embroidered version instead. They often had lined, weather-beaten faces, strong working hands for the harsh environment, and were absolutely beautiful.

Tikse Monastery

One day we visited the Tikse monastery, which is a short bus ride from Leh. There are several buildings on the site, with the main gompa at the top. The entire complex is spread up a hill, and is quite dramatic when seen from below. Inside the gompa was nice, but on our descent we were invited into a nunnery, where the nuns were doing some chanting. Stepping into the darkened interior was like stepping into another time. The chanting of the 6-10 nuns was mesmerizing and soothing. The cost for witnessing such a beautiful moment? We were graciously given 3 cups of butter tea. Now those of you that have tasted butter tea know that that was a steep price to have to pay. I’ve always said that I can put up with just about anything in world drink/cuisine, but with butter tea one cup every few years is normally my limit. Three in less than an hour was above and beyond! On the way back to Leh we stopped at the Shey gompa and fort to have a look around.

Alchi

One day we took a bus, and then had to walk the final 45 minutes, to the quaint village of Alchi. Like Leh, there are snow-capped peaks in the distance, stark landscape in the foreground, and a beautiful green river bottom. In all of Ladakh you see people walking around with shovels. I talked to one young woman and she explained about the diversion of water and why there are the green crops in a seemingly desert landscape. One man is elected to serve as a water monitor for one year. Based on each family’s crop size, he determines when that family can receive water, and for how long. When a family is told that it is their turn - usually the day before, they walk up to the small channel - shovel in hand, open up a channel to their crops, and block the onward flow of water to other crops. When there time is up - which could be in an hour, the next person would go to a strategic place in the channel and divert the water to their crops. The honor system and trust in their neighbors is still alive and well in Ladakh. In Alchi, we checked out some of the old monasteries and wandered around enjoying the views.

Cham Festival at Lamayuru Monastery

The next morning we walked back to the road and caught a bus to Lamayuru - a village where they were having another festival similar to that which we witnessed in Hemis. After walking through the typical narrow, winding, rock-walled alleyways, and through ‘tunnels’ where houses were built over the alley, we arrived at the gompa. The gompa, surrounding buildings, stupas, mani stones, and prayer wheels were set spectacularly on a stark ridge, with commanding and beautiful views in all directions. Narrow paths clinging to sheer mountains - or through steep scree, could be seen in many directions. The festival itself felt more intimate - there were fewer people, and the dancing of the masked monks seemed more fluid/graceful, and more in synch with each other and the drumming/cymbals/chanting of the other monks. Again, I spent a great deal of time watching the colorful locals.

Local Festival in Saspol

For no real reason other than to see something new, we had decided to stop in Saspol on our way back to Leh. Must have been fate, because we (only 4 of us Westerners) stumbled into a village ceremony that was great. There had been a new silver and jewel stupa (Buddhist monument) built for the gompa. Everyone in the village had contributed, and so this was the celebration at the completion of the project. The head lama sat on stage and spoke briefly, and other important people from the village spoke as well. The rest of us sat on carpets arranged around the room. All the women were wearing their finest traditional costumes - tall hats, large jewelry, and embroidered or goatskin piece on their back. Three women were wearing headdresses that looked like something from the flying nun, and were covered with large turquoise and red coral stones. There was some drumming, dancing which we were invited to join, food was served, and copious amounts of butter tea and chang (a local homebrewed beer) were distributed. The old women serving the chang (they’d dip a pot into a large plastic garbage bucket of the stuff) would always pour me a cup and make me drink all of it immediately. They’d do the same with a second cup, before allowing me to sip the third. This went on for quite some time until one woman poured me a cup, said something in Ladakhi to the man sitting next to me, cackled a laugh and then walked off. I asked the guy what she said, and he replied, “This guy has been drinking like this for 5 hours and he’s not drunk yet!” Shortly afterwards I must have made her day, as all the chang caught up with me. Next morning…chang-over! It was amazing how welcoming the people were - inviting us into and allowing us to be a part of their celebration. This was what you always hope to encounter while traveling - real moments. This wasn’t some contrived event for our benefit, but true village life, and it was great to be a part of it.

Climb of Stok Kangri

The Ladakh region has some great treks. I had been looking into a three-week trek, but because there are no lodges such as along the Nepal trekking routes, it’s more difficult and expensive. As I didn’t have the time, the gear, or the money to do an organized trek (they wanted anywhere from US$40 to $100 per day) I decided to simply come back to the region some other year with my own gear to do it. However, I wanted to do something in the region, so I opted for a climb of the major snow-covered peak you see from Leh - Stok Kangri at 6123 m (20,089′). It required crampons and ice axes, but was pretty straightforward. The first day was a short trek to camp near a shepherds hut at 4200 m. I’d been telling Al, the other climber, about Ketah and his ill-timed snake warning, when our climbing guide came into the tent and said that this was the shepherd hut where a snow leopard had killed livestock the year before…and a few nights before. Again, not the best timing. The next day was a short hike to 5000 m and then an acclimatization hike in the afternoon, where we sat and watched the shepherds try to control their livestock over the vast mountains. On summit morning, we set off at 2 AM for the 6-hour climb to the top. Views from the top were good, but not crystal-clear, as I wasn’t able to see the second highest mountain in the world - K2, in Pakistan. Descent was tough, as the sun was melting much of the snow so we’d posthole up to our crotch. Tiring, but a good 4 days, and my new personal high.

Journey to Spiti Region

I spent a few days back in Leh simply relaxing and enjoying the environment before heading out of the region. First it was a 4 AM start and 16-hour bus back to Keylong. Seemed to be more snowmelt runoff than a few weeks ago, with most of it on the road. We went over one bridge sporting a sign “weak bridge - drive slow”. Thanks for that feeling of confidence. I don’t know about you, but if I read that sign I’m going to get across as quickly as possible. Our bus driver obviously felt the same. Speaking of signs, the Border Roads Organization had many ’safety’ signs along the road in Ladakh, stating things like, “Danger Creeps when Safety Sleeps”, or, “Better a Mr. Late than a Late Mr.”. They’re not as good as the old US Burma Shave signs, but I ask you, how can you top, “Don’t stick your elbow/out so far/it may go home in/another car”, or “Proper distance/to him was bunk/they pulled him out of/some guy’s trunk”, or the always entertaining, “On curves ahead/remember sonny/that rabbit’s foot/didn’t save the bunny”. But I digress…

Started the next morning as the previous day started - on the bus at 4 AM. Got to a junction, and then waited for another bus which was heading towards Kaza. The scenery was impressive - granite peaks, rivers, huge boulders strewn everywhere, barren peaks in foreground, and snow-capped peaks in the distance. The road was simply on some of the rocks that had been crushed a bit smaller. When you take into consideration all the factors - extremely rough road; sitting in the back seat, so more bounce for your buck…more like a roller coaster ride; enough dust in the bus to make breathing very difficult and to make people’s clothes/hair look gray; too hot, but couldn’t open windows because of aforementioned dust; it was 8 1/2 hours on that bus to go 140 kms (12 hours total on buses that day); it had been 16 hours on a bus the previous day; both days started around 2:30 AM (buses left at 4, though we were to report early and had to walk to bus stand), and it has to rank right up there as one of the most tiring bus trips I’ve taken. It certainly isn’t the worst I’ve done, but let’s just say I was happy when I finally arrived in Kaza, and ecstatic when I didn’t have to hop on a bus at 4 the next morning.

Kaza

I spent a few days wandering around Kaza, doing some short hikes in the region, and attending another ceremony at the Ki Gompa 14 kms from Kaza. It was much smaller than those in Ladakh, and not as interesting for me, as the locals don’t really dress traditionally in the Spiti and Kinnaur region - aside from a particular pill-box hat.

Tabo

I progressed to Tabo, which has an old gompa built in 996. It’s considered one of the most important monasteries in the Tibetan-Buddhist world, and is said to be the place where the current Dalai Lama will ‘retire’. These gompas looked as if they’d be at home in the southwestern US - instead of the flat-topped white gompas with red trim, these were more in shapes of mounds, with a mud covering.

Back to Delhi

I stopped in Rekong Peo to relax a few last days in cooler temperatures, before catching buses for the 18-hour trip through Shimla and into Delhi. I simply sorted out a few things in Delhi and bought some gifts while awaiting my flight out of the country.

India Is…

It was actually kind of sad to be leaving India, but I grew accustomed to it after 6 months and find myself referring back to it often in my subsequent travels. It could be extremely frustrating at times, but I’ll miss it. However, it got to the point where the chaos and unusual had become the norm, so it was time to go in search of other stimuli. It’s impossible to generalize and to summarize a country like India, but for me it will always be organized chaos - things get done, but I’m still not quite sure how. It will be people shuffling along, staring unashamedly at me, interrupting me, and always asking the same questions of me - “Hello. Where from? What is your good name? What is your job? How old are you?”. It will be noise, Internet shops set up for porn viewing (curtains or doors on the cubicle, monitors sunken into the tabletops, poorly lit), eating with my hands, squat toilets, bucket showers, and tea sellers…”chai-ah…chai-eeeeee”.It’s posing for pictures with strangers, people only buying one cigarette at a kiosk, and the girl following me for 15 minutes tapping on my elbow saying nothing but, “Hello”, and pointing to her mouth and stomach for food. It’s too many tuk tuks, Mr. India contests (skinny guys in their underwear bathing in public), and many hands doing simple tasks and manual labor (breaking rocks). It’s coming to grips with the entire country being treated as a toilet, and to grips with the caste system so as to not get others in trouble by holding the door for them. It’s the benefit to my social life - “Hello friend, chai? Hello friend, rickshaw? Hello friend, hotel?” and the always intriguing, “Hello friend, what you want?” If you name something that’s not in their shop, they’ll tell you to sit and in 5 minutes they’ll be back with said item.

Some have said it sounds as if I didn’t like India, but I wouldn’t have stayed for over 6 months if that were the case. I’m simply trying to paint a picture of traveling in a country that is unlike any other I’ve experienced. In India, all of life is on display in the streets - bathing, cooking, eating, sleeping, shaving, celebrations, business deals, arguments, and even death. You have a love/hate relationship with India, and often they can come within a matter of minutes of each other. The procedures, which are completely illogical and lacking common sense, can be very frustrating, but it can be offset a minute later by experiencing something amazing. India is an assault on the senses - the eyes see the beautiful people, colorful clothes, and amazing temples, but also witness the absurd, the archaic procedures, and the suffering. The ears hear the sellers - “Hello friend”, but also hear the shouts, the music, the touts, and the incessant horn honks - all at full volume. The nose gets to smell the many spices, incense, and aroma of good food, but also has to deal with the urine, excrement, and garbage everywhere. The mouth gets to taste the variety of foods, while the brain shuts down and tries not to think about how that street food was made or how long it’s been sitting there. Touch seems to be more about getting in touch with yourself, as India is full of “seekers” trying to find a guru to lead them in a certain direction. As a generality, the people are better educated and nicer in the south, it’s easier to travel there as transportation is more on time, and it’s cheaper.

Wherever you travel in India, if you’re there for a long time, you’ll invariably seek refuge from time to time to recharge - either by popping out to another country (Nepal, Sri Lanka), or by holing up in pockets of sanity such as Goa, Dharamsala, Ladakh, etc. In fact, many people will list a favorite place in India that I don’t consider truly India, but is more likely one of these retreat pockets, and I’m no different, with Ladakh being my favorite. The exception to this is generally Rajasthan. I’ve never thought this about another country I’ve visited, but India is probably a country where it pays to travel with another so you can tag-team the country - when one person is getting fed up the other can deal with hotels, tuk tuk drivers, touts, etc. I’ve always said living in the US is like walking around in a padded cell, as so much has been done so we can’t get hurt - and subsequently sue. I find it refreshing to be in countries where you have to take responsibility for your actions and pay attention. However, India goes the opposite way of the US and there are so many unsafe practices - overcrowding of buses, jeeps, trains, tuk tuks; bars over the windows of buses/trains (57 were burned alive in a train car while I was in India); and locking guesthouses so a person can’t get out in case of an emergency. You simply try to block most of that out of your mind.

Last, India is people…lots and lots of people. It’s over a billion, and will soon surpass China as the most populous country - in about 1/3 the land area. Most of the problems you encounter in India are either directly or indirectly related to too many people - hassles to buy tickets on public transportation, overcrowding on public transportation, touts and tuk tuk drivers trying to make a living, etc. In India, privacy and personal space are basically non-existent.

In all, India was an amazing experience - one not to be missed. There’s never a dull moment, but patience is an absolute necessity for travel throughout the sub-continent.

India Photos

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