The next chapter

I'm back in the US, and I've started working at Wollam Gardens, a cut flower farm in Virginia. If you have any interest in keeping up with this new era of my life, I'm gonna try and post some pictures, accounts, and maybe some occasional recipes at my other blog: http://peaceanddirt.blogspot.com/

Namaste

Last Day

Today is our last day in India. It's pretty heart-wrenching to be leaving here, and I can't believe the time is over. We've met so many great people, and seen and done so much. Kolkata became a sort of home away from home while we were here. But it is time to move on I suppose. I'm confident that, as hard as it is to leave, it will be good to be home once I get there (especially after the long and arduous flight process). I also have some great things to look forward to. Next week I will be starting a 10 week internship at Wollam Gardens, a cut flower farm in Norther Virginia, that I'm tremendously excited about. I think the people there and the work will be really good. After that Daniel and I will be working at Tree and Leaf, an organic vegetable farm, through the Fall.

For today I think we will do a bit more walking around, taking in what we can while we have to opportunity, and then eventually take a cab up to the airport. We fly out tonight at 8PM and get to Washington DC around noon tomorrow.

50 Years of Freedom Struggle

During our time here in Darjeeling we've been witness to various events surrounding the 50th anniversary of the uprising in Lhasa, Tibet that resulted in the exile of the Dalai Lama and numbers of Tibetan peopl, most of whom came into India. There is a pretty sizable number of exiles here in Darjeeling, so there have been several marches and demonstrations in the past few days. The most powerful one that we had the opportunity to see was last night, a rally and march organized by the Tibetan Women's Association of Darjeeling. At the rally on the Chorwasta some people were handing out sheets of paper discussing the action and the aims of the organization, as well as the struggle of the Tibetan people, particularly women. "The Tibetan Women's Association appeals to Chinese people, and women's groups across the world to join us in our fight for justice and freedom, not only in Tibet but in any regimes across the world where a women's body is ruled by the state." The rally was followed by a march through the town, with people chanting, holding flags and candles. The march came full circle back to the Chowrasta that evening, where the people placed their candles on the paved ground spelling out the letters "Save Tibet" in fire. Then everyone in the massive gathering let out a song, maybe a Tibetan anthem though I'm not sure.

It's nice to have a face to the Tibetan freedom struggle that's not Bono or Lisa Loeb, but rather a Tibetan face.

Holi Hai!

Today is Holi, a major Indian festival that means you have people rubbing colored powder on your face all day. Daniel and I both got pretty covered. The kids seemed to really enjoy rubbing it into his beard. Holi is known as the Festival of Colors because of the use of bright pigments (purple, pink, red, yellow, green, blue) and is a way to usher in Spring. It originated as a celebration of the death by fire of a demoness named Holika, and the subsequent survival of a devotee of Lord Vishnu. Wikipedia gives this synopsis:

"The main day, Holi, also known as Dhulheti, Dhulandi or Dhulendi, is celebrated by people throwing coloured powder and coloured water at each other. Bonfires are lit the day before, also known as Holika Dahan (death of Holika) or Chhoti Holi (little Holi). The bonfires are lit in memory of the miraculous escape that young Prahlad had when Demoness Holika, sister of Hiranyakashipu, carried him into the fire. Holika was burnt but Prahlad, a staunch devotee of Lord Vishnu, escaped without any injuries due to his unshakable devotion."

Today we are in Darjeeling, and the Holi celebrations alone have made it a pretty good time. We got here yesterday evening, a day late, due to a Darjeeling strike. We got up Monday morning, checked out of our hotels, and lugged our packs down to the Gangtok jeep stand only to be turned away saying there was nothing going into Darjeeling because the roads were blocked off due to striking. Dejected, we decided to spend the rest of the day lounging, eating, shopping, and strolling down the Marg. Luckily everything worked out getting here on Tuesday, and I am so happy to be back in Darjeeling. I think I left my heart here when we went to Gangtok.

This morning we were finally able to see the mountain! The views of Khangchendzonga, the third highest peak in the world, are one of the main tourist draws to the area and absolutely stunning. We climbed the observation deck at the top of our guest house this morning, hoping, hoping, hoping that the fog had cleared enough and then seemingly out of no where, floating in the sky atop the mist were the peaks. It's hard to adequately describe how mind blowing they are. It's clouded up again this afternoon, but it should be clear again in the morning.

We took a stroll down to the Bhutia Busty Gompa, a shrine which holds the original copy of the Tibetan book of the dead, and had some polite conversation with a monk there. The picture to the side is of a mural there. After lunch we headed to the Darjeeling Zoo. We were welcomed there by a lively Himalayan Black Bear, and continued on the path to see leopards, Tibetan wolves, Bengal and Indian tigers, and even a snow leopard, a personal highlight for myself who decided when I was 6 that it was my favorite animal. We did all this, mind you, covered in pink and purple pigment. The locals got a real kick out of it and a number of people asked to have their picture taken with us.

Only one more full day in Darjeeling, then it's back to Kolkata on Friday morning. We will jeep down to Siliguri, then overnight train it back to the city.

Gangtok, Sikkim

Today Daniel and I finished everything on our "Gangtok To Do List." Since Friday afternoon we have been staying at a travel lodge on Tibet Rd in Gangtok, Sikkim. Sikkim is an Indian aberration of sorts. It is far more ethnically Nepali, and has the highest percentage of Buddhists living in the state. Also, Ganktok seems to be pretty affluent in comparison to any other city I've been in. It looks like most people enjoy a relatively middle class existence. So, Sikkim only became a part of India in 1976, and before that it was an independent state. In hopes of fostering pro-Indian feelings, the Indian government has given Sikkim some pretty major tax breaks. Oh, and it's much cleaner than any other city. There are litter free and no spitting zones, something I don't think you could successfully enforce anywhere else in India. I've also noticed there are liquor stores and bars everywhere; in most of India it's pretty hard to get a drink.

Mahatma Ghandi Marg is the main downtown road, and cars don't have access to the brick streets. A line of flowers and fountains stretch down the center of the street with shops and restaurants lining either side; something altogether more European than Indian. We've spent a lot of time there in the evenings drinking tea on the benches. Last night we made the acquaintance of a Sikkimese rapper named Jimmy there (again, this is a place of aberrations).

Gangtok rests on a mountain, at the top of which is a park called the Ridge. It's a long green space that offers some pretty good views of the city below. At the north end of it is a large flower exhibition center. It's orchid blooming season so on Friday afternoon we were able to see maybe a hundred different varieties on display there, along with some other really lovely fauna.

Saturday involved an expedition to the Namgyal Institute of Tibetology on the other side of the city. We reached it by means of the Damovar Ropeway, a relatively new zip line car sort of thing that takes you down and over a wide valley. The Tibetology Institute was amazing and one of our first really up close and personal encounters with Buddhism here. It's a museum sort of thing, displaying indescribably beautiful and tremendously old things like statues, thankas, and various sacred implements. The second floor of the building is a massive scroll library. There were scrolls there from the 7th and 8th century, exhortations on or discussions of the life of the Buddha or the nature of emptiness.

Just up the hill from the Institute is a large stupa flanked by Buddhist schools for boys. We were able to look in on one of their sessions at this sea of little boys in red robes looking at their little tablets, while the grown up monks at the front of the room were playing drums and horns, spreading incense and making offerings. We've started calling some of these little boys Buddha babies. Some of them are so young, and can't be older than 5 or 6 and they are kind of all over the place.

W were greeted by a host of young monk boys today on our excursion to the Enchey Gompa, apparently Gangtok's most impressive monastery and temple. Our trip their involved a pretty hearty walk up hill, but it definitely proved itself worthwhile when we got there. We were able to hang out in the courtyard for a while making conversation with some of the Indian tourists visiting, with drums and chanting in the background. From the monastery we scrambled a little further up hill to Ganesh Tok, a view point/Hindu temple high above the city for some good views and a cup of tea. I think we probably walked 7 or 8 km in all today, half of it uphill, so we'll be taking it easy for the rest of the time in Gangtok.

Tomorrow we return to Darjeeling.

Jai Maa Gorkhaland

Long live Gorkhaland; the clarion call of the region surrounding and encompassing Darjeeling, India. It is technically part of West Bengal, but the people here are decidedly not Bengali and assert a separate identity and government. They want their own state, separate from Bengal, and the cries for separation are everywhere. You start seeing flags and signs declaring Gorkha rights as soon as you get out of Siliguri, the transfer point where we took the jeep up to Darjeeling. The movement has vowed to officially establish a separate state by 2010, and I wish them the best of luck because Darjeeling is nothing like the rest of the state. For the time being, people have undertaken various forms of generally non-violent resistance against the Bengali government, primarily by acting as if the state is already theirs. Licence plates, for example, changing their vehicle numbers from WB for West Bengal to GK for Gorkhaland. Also, I have heard of some tax resistance and striking.

I'm sitting in Gangtok, Sikkim at the moment, where we will be for the weekend but we will head back to Darjeeling on Monday morning to stay for the rest of the week. More on Sikkim later, but first I want to catch up on Darjeeling. It's pretty safe to say that we totally fell in love with this town, known as the Queen of the Hills. It started with the pretty magical journey from Siliguri, climbing into the Himalayas by jeep. So, the Himalayas are really big, and we are still not even that far into them. I'm not sure of elevations or anything, but the steepness and magnitude of the mountains we've seen is really amazing. You are supposed to have great views of snow-capped peaks, but so far the mountain mist has been an impediment to that. We are hoping that any day the weather will clear.

Also, the culture of the people in Darjeeling, and the mountain towns in general, is a relief after the stress, hassle, and noise of big Indian cities like Kolkata and Varanasi. This change of pace and temperament is definitely welcome right now. Also, the temperature is considerable cooler; another relief after almost 95 degree days in humid Kolkata.

We got to Darjeeling Tuesday afternoon and checked into a charming spot called Andy's Guest House, run by a Mrs. Gurung who is one of the nicest, most honest and straightforward lodge keepers we've met so far. Also, the cleanest and cutest lodging. From there, we began to wander. Through a narrow path of street stalls selling produce and food, we reached the Chowrasta, a sort of town square. No cars are allowed here so it's a sort of paved park, and social focal point for Darjeeling. It's a great spot to sit looking onto the mountains with a cup of tea and some momos, Tibetan vegetable dumplings which have recently become my new favorite food.

From the Chowrasta we made our way up the hill, and stumbled into Observatory Hill, probably the holiest site in the city. It is sacred to both Buddhists and Hindus, with a shared temple at the top of the hill. As we walked toward the complex we could hear bells ringing from various temples, and see the hint of Buddhist prayer flags strewn amongst the trees. The sounds got louder and the prayer flags got thicker until finally we were at the top and in the middle of this totally magical place. The picture below is a section of the prayer flags, and only begin to hint at the enormity of the place.

Another one of Darjeeling's more notable attractions is the Toy Train on the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The Railway is a two foot wide narrow gauge line that runs from Siliguri to Darjeeling. It was built between 1879 and 1881, and still uses a steam engine. The use of the narrow gauge at the time was a major innovation in trying to combat the steep and treacherous mountain terrain that the railway needed to cover, and was crucial to the development of the Darjeeling region. We took a two hour round trip joy-ride on the steam train to Ghoom, where you get a half hour for tea and a peak at the railway museum there. Apparently Mark Twain took the railway up during his visit to India and said it was "the most enjoyable day I have spent on this earth."

Oh, also we went to the botanical gardens there which were really cool. Lots of good fauna. Like I said, we are in Gangtok, Sikkim at the moment but will be making our way back to Darjeeling on Monday, in time to celebrate Holi in a more Hindu part of the country.

Varanasi, the Eternal City

On Friday night, Daniel and I cabbed it over to the train station to make our way from Kolkata to Varanasi for the weekend. On the way over I discovered that I, in my infinite brilliance, had got the time of the train wrong so we arrived at the station at 8:20 PM , 20 minutes after it pulled out of the station. Great, just great. But we didn't give up hope, and went in to see if we could some how, by some grace of God, book a later train. The Kolkata train station is a beast unto itself, a mammoth thing that swallows you whole.

Eventually we got to someone who told us there was a train later that night, at 11:45 and to go to the booking office. After making our way through the labyrinth to the booking office, I then had to battle my way through 50 Indian men to even talk to someone about booking another ticket. People here don't ques for things... you just get into this pile of people and try to push your way to whatever your trying to get to. As soon as you feel like your close, in swoop three more men in front of you so it feels like one step forward is countered by three steps back. I was getting pretty exasperated, between the chaos of this booking thing and the dejection of knowing that I had so royally messed up the train thing to begin with. In this moment of weakness though, I met an older American gentleman, also trying to battle his way through the line, who said he and his wife were trying to get to Varanasi too. He took pity on me in my plight, but also gave me heart to carry on the struggle. It so happened had an extra set of tickets. It was for an earlier train, and 2nd class (which is pretty classy). He tried to get them to just switch the tickets over to Daniel and I, but they would have none of this due to some technicality. In the end, I just bought another set of tickets at the window, but it was so kind of this guy to try and help us out that in the end I was happy to have the opportunity to meet him and his wife.

So, while things certainly didn't work out as planned, we got our Varanasi tickets, and at 11:45 boarded the train. A million hours later, with the call of "chai, chai, garam chai" ringing in our ears from the constant repetition on the train, we arrived in Varanasi.

Mark Twain once wrote, "Benares (Varanasi) is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together." I think it is probably one of the most important cities in the world. First of all, it is one of the oldest continually inhabited cities in the world. Also, its indescribably sacred to Hindus, as well as Buddhists and Jains.

The main part of Varanasi, know as the old city, is a vast labyrinthine network of narrow streets running alongside the Ganges crammed with shops and innumerable temples. Between the city and the water are the ghats, which is an area of stairs leading down to the shore. There are over a hundred ghats along the whole stretch of the city. Most ghats are cites of bathing, but others are for cremation. It is thought that anyone who dies and is cremated here will be released from the cycle of maya and transmigration. Our hostel was right next to Meer Ghat, one of the cremation ghats. While it is fine for tourists to go out on these ghats to watch the ceremonies and the burning pyres, one can't help but feel a little intrusive and out of place. It was remarkable how many bodies were carried through the narrow street next to our hotel, covered, flowered, and carried by a host of chanting men down to the water. It seemed to happen at least a 4 or 5 times an hour.



The every morning and evening there are Pujas (sacrificial ceremonies) along the water. The most spectacular of these is performed at Dashashwamdeh Ghat, reportedly created by the god Brahma to welcome Shiva as the primary deity of the city. Our two nights there we watched the evening puja, Aarti, which is dedication of fire and light in this instance to the Ganga, Shiva, Surya (Sun), Agni (fire), and most importantly the singular divinity of the universe. It was definitely a spectacle. There were seven or eight young priests lined up along the river bank on elevated platforms. Also, singing and music projected through a sound system. Lots of flowers, lots of incense, and lots of fire. I thought it was pretty amazing. Many people take boats out to view the ceremony from the river, and release little floating leaf boats filled with flowers, candles, and prayers onto the water. Its a tremendous thing to see all the little candles floating on the water, hundreds and hundreds of them.




Our time in Varanasi was spent mostly just wandering along the water watching people and boats, cremations, boys playing cricket, the goats, cows, water buffalo, dogs. Also, there are a couple of really choice tourist cafes one of which is a German Bakery where I got an amazing Cappuchino, definitely a treat after all the Nescafe.

On Monday morning we woke up at 4AM to begin the next leg of our journey, to a very different sort of place: Darjeeling. Our train left at 5:45 in the morning, and didn't get to our stop, New Jalpaiguri, until after midnight. It isn't even that far away, maybe 730km, but the damn train just kept stopping, half the time in the middle of a field somewhere! It was a long ride and we were definitely happy to step off that train, though it meant staying in the town of Siliguri for the night, a pretty unimpressive place. From there we got a jeep the next day to Darjeeling, but I should write more about that whole journey in another instalment. Suffice it to say, we are in Darjeeling and it is amazing here.