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Sunday, August 29, 2010

at the end of things

Well, I dropped the ball on my last 2 weeks of blogging about India. Even now, only 3 months later, a lot of the details such as names and places and order of events are hazy, but I'll do my best.

We took a long overnight train from Mumbai - Delhi. I was happy to be leaving the crazy overcrowded city, and excited to see more of the countryside, but it turns out the Val and I felt relatively unprepared for the chaos of Delhi. We shoved our way off the train and followed the mob helplessly to the taxi stand. Competing our way for a fair tuktuk price, we took a short ride to a hotel that was more expensive than the average room in Delhi. It was 50$/night, which still doesnt seem to steep, but it was a small price to pay for the comfort it included. Delhi was just as crowded as Mumbai, but dirtier, and way more intimidating. Furthermore, we arrived during the height of the hot season, just before the monsoon was to come. THis meant 120 degree temperatures. We knew that come midday, we'd find the sanctuary of our airconditioned hotel room extremely comforting.

The first day, we took a private car ride to Agra, which was three hours away. It was also my birthday, and was the most surreal, incredible way to spend it. We arrived at the Taj Mahal at 6 am, just as the doors opened, to see the sunrise. I've seen pictures of it before, but nothing prepared me for the extreme whiteness, the size, and the feeling of awe that comes with seeing it in person. It was built as a tomb for the wife of one of the kings, several hundred years ago. The stone work was beautiful, and it is no wonder it is such a famous landmark in the world. We hired a tour guide to take us around the city. He showed us other things in Agra such as the stone masons who work on the Taj Mahal, the Agra Fort, and a delicious breakfast place. Just half a day in Agra seemed to be enough, and we headed home after that. On the night of my birthday, we went out to a bollywood movie. Unfortunately the movie was entirely in hindi, but we got the jist of it. We ditched out at intermission, however, because it was approaching 9 pm, and Val and I were a little skittish about Delhi after dark.

We caught a flight the next day to Bagdogra, where we hoped to catch a ride to Darjeeling, which is 2 hours away. When we arrived in Bagdogra, however, we discovered that Darjeeling was holding a strike for the following three days, and if we were to travel there, we would have trouble finding hotel rooms, food, and even water. We decided to head to Sikkim instead, a province that would be our launching point for ou Himalayan trek. It was still a race against the protesters, however, as the city we landed in was to have a strike the following day. WE were literally running around the city (catching rides on cyclos) to find permits to enter sikkim, photo copy machines for our visas, and a taxi ride that would take us into Sikkim. We caught the last taxi out, which happened to involve us squeezing into the backseat of a tiny jeep, holding our bags on our lap. We were off on the 6 hour journey on bumpy, unimproved mountain roads, towards the capital of Sikkim, Gangtok. We arrived late at night, and luckily found a room just before the quiet town literally locks all of its doors at 8 pm. We realized after this hectic day, that India is not like SE Asia... you cant just go with the flow. There are too many people, and too many different regulations and limitations to do everything last minute.

We woke up the next day to find ourselves in the beauty of the Himalayas, with incredible views in the midst of this quiet mountain town. I love the province of Sikkim. THe people are unasuming and incredible helpful, and the strict regulations make it seem very much unlike India. It is far less crowded, and things had much more order and cleaniness. We found an agency that would let us join the 8-day trek we had in mind, up to the mountain of Kanchanjunga. We were to join a group of 12 other tourists, leaving from an even SMALLER mountain town.

My entire trip had been filled with ridiculous car ride experiences. Four people on a motorcycle, weaving through the streets of Phnom Penh.... Long bus rides filled with Cambodian tourists with no airconditioning... A sleeper bus in Thailand where an elderly American man slept on my shoulder and I was trapped by the window... Seven hours on a broken down bus... private taxis that were rented with a driver for 20 bucks a day.... tuktuks... cyclos... the list goes on. But nothing compares with that 6 hour journey to Yuksum. Our driver was either drunk or crazy, or maybe both, and he took every hairpin mountain tourn at 100 km/hour. One time a bus was headed straight for us and I literally saw my life flash before my eyes as we narrowly avoided falling off the cliff. We stopped at least 9 times for bathroom breaks, to buy snacks off the side of the road, to yell at school girls walking home, to send messages to their friends, to stretch our legs, to switch drivers. It was a sitcom. But we made it to Yuksum, met with our group, and left the next day on our 8 day trek.

The trek did not begin well for me. I felt fine until lunch time, where I came down quite suddenly with a fever, and some major stomach issues. I had the chance to turn around, but I really did not want to miss out, and kept hiking the tourturous 12 miles to our first hut. There were several times where I thought I would collapse, and I think I was so out of it that I can barely remember most of the journey. I spent the entire 8 days of the trek in that disastrous state, and only upon returning back to America and visiting the doctor, did I discover that I had Giardia. It was the most pain I had ever been in, second only to my broken ankle.

The Himalayas are unlike any mountain range I had ever seen. Steeper, bigger, and more difficult terrain. They are constantly in a cloud, and you are lucky if you get the chance to see the highest peaks. We hiked to a viewpoint where we saw Kanchanjunga, the third highest mountain in the world. Even suffering from Giardia, I could definitely appreciate the miracle of the moment.

After our trek, we went to Darjeeling, where we luckily found a place to stay. Turns out that just a few days before we arrived there, a local politician had been murdered in front of everyone. In fact, one employee at a restuarant we visited, showed me the grousome photo of his neck that had been hacked into by a machete. THe town was protesting it while we were there. Although people kept telling us to be careful, I felt far less danger there than in Delhi, or Mumbai, and it was actually an interesting experience to see the police and protestors occasionally marching through the street.

We spent our three days in Darjeeling reading books, drinking tea, and walking around in the cooler mountain air. It was nice to kind of do nothing while we were there, and just enjoy our last few days in India before we started the trip home.

It took me more than 48 hours of travel to make it back to Denver. We left Darjeeling at 7 am on Friday. We took a 2 hour bus ride to the airport in bagdogra. We had a 2 hour plane ride back to Delhi, followed by a 7 hour layover in the Delhi airport. Val and I split ways for the first time in 4 months, and I flew 10 hours to Frankfurt. I had a 7 hour layover in the Frankfurt airport, where i was shocked by modern bathrooms, internet, newspapers and more. I felt like I had emerged from the twilight zone and was reentering the world again. From Frankfurt I had a 7 hour flight back to Denver, which turned into 10 hours when we made an emergency landing in Montreal. I made it back to Denver finally at 8 pm on Saturday night, and slept more soundly in my family's westernized bedroom than I had in the last 5 months.

Looking back on it all now, it seemed like a world apart. To relive the every day through my journals and pictures, I am amazed at everything I saw, experienced, and felt. That part of the world is so different from my own. I never stopped being nervous, scared, excited, or confused... And the adjustment back to my life in Estes was a lot harder than I couldve imagined.

Of course I experienced culture shock, but it was more than that. I felt suddenly alone without Val around me all the time... sharing my food, my room, and my life with me. I also felt very startled at the sudden change in lifestyle. Having a car again, seeing my friends and family again, having real life responsibilities again. THe first week I returned, I had to deal with issues like Giardia, a stolen credit card, the purchase of new tires, a $2,000 debt to my parents, finding an apartment,and finding a job. I was overwhelmed by life here as much as life abroad.

There is so much I learned from my experience over there, that I can just now understand. It is more than a compare and contrast between the East and the West, and the contrast between lifestyles, outlooks, personalities, etc. I am no expert, and I feel like I just dipped my toes into the massive lake that is the world, but I have a little understanding of the themes. I now have an idea what poverty is like. I know what overpopulation looks like, and I know what problems can arise (like lack of water and diseases like Giardia). I have seen the negative consequences of mass genocide, and the beautiful personalities of a whole country such as Cambodia. I have seen the positive and negative effects of tourism, the intense contrast between the rich and the poor, and what the difference between a corrupted government and an absent government. THere is so much to learn from other cultures, and while the experience might be incredibly hard, it is priceless. I'm happy now in Estes Park, in my comfortable apartment, my profitable jobs, and my wonderful friends... and I truly get how lucky I am to have this. But the world is still out there, and there is so much more to see and do and learn.

1 comment:

  1. What an incredible experience that you summarize so eloquently.

    ReplyDelete