When we last left off I was sitting in a little internet cafe/convenience store / barber shop in India waiting out my last days. Having seen all I care to see in Pushkar I decided to hop a train to Jodpur. I figured what's one more city, one more fort and one more "the most extravagant maharajah's palace in all of India". And what's more hassle from rip-off artists, more having Indians shoving their kids in front of me to take pictures, signing more autographs (can you imagine going home and bragging to your friends that you actually met a white guy? Like on TV and in the movies?)
I had my own paparazzi in India. My excursion to Jodpur played out as expected. I saw the fort and the palace and they were beautiful. I signed some autographs and decided to have some fun with the locals. Now when they asked, "Are you a WWE wrestler?' I would do my best (or worst) Hulk Hogan. "Yeah Brother! (Flex the double biceps pose) Whatcha gonna do when the 24" pythons get a hold of you! (Now kiss each biceps and flex again)" The Indians loved this.
It was my last day and I was alone with time to kill before my 7:00 evening train to Delhi. So I decided to find a decent restaurant, ordered some korma and biryani and sat reading Gandhi's autobiography. Good stuff. As the waiter served my food a man approached me, he introduced himself as Sham (rhymes with palm not ham...stay tuned) Sham invited me to join he and his wife Bindu for lunch as she enjoyed speaking with tourists and it was their 2nd wedding anniversary. What the hell I've got 4 hours to kill.
So after 30 minutes of excruciating small talk mediated by Sham (I guess culturally his wife was not supposed to talk directly to another man, plus her English was about as good as my driver Raj's) He invited me to their family home to celebrate their anniversary with the whole family.
SHAM: "Please, I'd like to invite you to our home for a traditional Rajasthani dinner. Please come meet my family. Talk with my uncle."
ME: "OK" ( I was a bit hesitant but then again I've spit giraffe shit, had my ear pierced by some rastas in a jungle and survived a terrorist plot. What the hell?) "But, I have to catch the 7:00 train back to Delhi, my hotel is directly across the street from the station"
SHAM: "No problem, I take you to my home, you eat, then I take you to your hotel so you can pick up your bags. I'll have you to the station at 6:30'
ME: "Sounds cool to me"
I figured I'd take a rickshaw but Sham insisted on driving me. I thought how kind, the only reason I accepted his offer was because I assumed he drove a car. Ten minutes later I was whizzing through the mayhem that is Indian city traffic (see my previous post) on a motorcycle wedged between Sham and Bindu. We arrived at the family's home where I was greeted by Sham's uncle, aunt, nieces, nephews and daughter.
Feeling empty handed I asked if I could bring some dessert, so Sham took me for a ride to grab some Indian treats. But, not before hitting the liquor store. "Don't tell Uncle I drink beer", said Sham as we shared our first 8% alcohol 650ml beer (in separate cups of course). Soon after he said, "I want you to give uncle 1000 rupees (~$23) as a gift and I'll give you 1000 rupees later.
Ah-cha! Ah-cha! the other foot had fallen. And I'm thinking "Seriously, do I have 'Asshole' written across my forehead in Hindi?" Then I realized that my bag with all of my stuff are at his house and I don't know where I am. Then Sham started getting a little belligerent and I came to the realization ,"Oh shit! this guy is drunk! What do I do?" I explained that I don't have 1000 rupees and that my ATM card was in my luggage back at the hotel (BS it was in my money belt hidden under my pants). Sham was now visibly pissed. However, being twice his size and starting to get steamed at his gumption and the situation at large, I stepped up to him. With his face starring me in the chest I looked down into his eyes while exhaling through my nostrils into his face. I grabbed him by the shoulders, giving them a "friendly massage" (I bet I broke every blood vessel in his trapezius muscles) I explained "My good friend, let's go back home. Uncle is expecting us." Then I smiled as I starred into his soul. At this point I believe Sham realized that he pissed off Hulk Hogan and the 24" pythons were about to unleash the fury on him.
So we hopped back on the bike and headed home. En route we hit a cow.
"Holy shit Sham! you hit the holy cow! Your going to hell man!", I exclaimed. Good thing we weren't going to fast, it was more of a love tap. I laughed to myself imagining he was thinking, "I've just slapped the gods in the face." while I was thinking, "Hmm, T-bone". I don't know what it is about my journey and my encounters with large mammals. First the charging elephant, than hitting the whale with the boat and now this.
We made it back to the house where the women had prepared a lovely dinner, they even packed me a doggy bag. Now considered a friend they asked to exchange addresses. So I jotted down and gave them Sapienza's address and hugged everyone good-bye. Sham took me to my hotel and I gave him 200 rupees, enough to cover the beer and food, then ran to catch my train.
That was it! India had taken all I could give. After a day in Delhi, I caught a cab to the airport. When I arrived at Indira Gandhi Airport I walked through the front door backward. Facing outward with both hands raised in the air I saluted the best way a boy from Jersey knows how.
A few hours later as I sailed through the clouds I reflected on my short time spent on the sub-continent. I was spent, I wanted to go home, to a clean home with no cows in the street or people dropping a deuce on the side of the road. Then I looked out the window to see the peaks of the Himalaya poking thousands of feet through the clouds. Instantly all the soul sludge evaporated and was replaced the same sense of awe I experienced upon seeing the cliffs meeting the blue ocean in Cape Town.
We landed in Kathmandu and I found exactly what I was looking for. The people were warm and friendly. And while the shop keepers still hounded me, they accepted "no thank you" as an answer. Nobody stares at me in wonderment nor takes my picture. The streets are clean as are the guest houses and all of the shitting occurs in toilets, where it belongs. I think I have found Nirvana.
I've been staying in the Thamel section of Kathmandu, a vibrant bizarre, a jumble of tourists and locals dotted with centuries old temples and pagodas. The streets buzz with vivid colors, a cacophony of sounds and the rich aromas of spice and incense. And while I enlikened occasional smells of India to the porta-potty in the parking lot of a Giant Stadium tailgate, Kathmandu smells more like the inside of Giant Stadium during a Phish concert. It smells like weed here, often. While the valley sits at 4,500 feet. I get the impression that the elevation isn't the only thing that qualifies this city as high. I also get the impression that my name translated in Nepalese is "Hash" because as I walk the streets, everyone walks by me, looks at me as says "Hash? Hash?"
Following a few days of kicking around Kathmandu I decided to head south to the low-lying jungles of Chitwan National Park. It's been months since I left Africa and I was in the mood for a wildlife expedition.
The bus left Kathmandu at 7am and for the following 7 hours we rode along steep cliffs over looking the Karayuni River. The view was magnificent and sometimes terrifying as vehicles routinely overtook one another around blind turns. The sky was clear and blue and the walls of the river valley were almost iridescent green, this is the end of monsoon season. A few hours into the journeyI looked out the window as we were stopped in traffic. It was here that I came to the stunning realization, "Oh my God, this entire valley is covered in marijuana plants" (Hey B-head, I think I found your Shangri-la) Epiphany! Now I understand the Kathmandu tourist culture, this put my earlier observations into perspective.
We pulled into Savrahar, a village of the indigenous Tharu people where I stayed in a local guest house they made of mud. The following morning I headed out into the jungle with my guides Shiva and Ram, and Mae another traveler from China. Unlike Africa where I spent my time on a truck driving through manicured roads with certified guides who carried CB radios and rifles. We hiked through virgin tropical jungle in 90 degree heat through 25 foot tall grass.
Ram and Shiva walked the whole thing in flip flops armed only with bamboo sticks they fashioned into walking sticks to fend off Bengal Tigers, Sloth Bears and Rhinos (I figured, hey they grew up here, they know what they're doing). As we walked throughout the day we stopped periodically to take a drink of water, admire the incredible views of the Himalaya rising 7000 meters in the distance
and to pull leaches off of our bodies. We stopped for lunch after 5 hours, then pressed on into sunset. That evening we spent the night in another Tharu village. After covering 18Km, sleep came with no problem.
The following morning we hiked on through the village and caught a bus. The four of us climbed onto the roof to enjoy the view. Over the next 40 minutes we rode through villages and talked. I was heading back to Savrahar for an afternoon elephant-back safari, but I learned that there would be a transit strike the next day so I had to catch the next bus to Kathmandu or risk getting stuck in the jungle.
While I could've easily spent the next week chilling with Ram, Shiva and their family, I needed to get back. See I was lucky enough to be granted a visa to visit Bhutan, the last of the untouched Himalayan Buddhist Kingdoms. According to the books, only around five thousand tourists a year are allowed in. I applied when I landed in Nepal and I was chosen. I'll be taking a five-day excursion to Bhutan tomorrow afterward I'll return to Nepal to visit Mt. Everest and trek through the Himalaya so stay tuned.
A few hours later as I sailed through the clouds I reflected on my short time spent on the sub-continent. I was spent, I wanted to go home, to a clean home with no cows in the street or people dropping a deuce on the side of the road. Then I looked out the window to see the peaks of the Himalaya poking thousands of feet through the clouds. Instantly all the soul sludge evaporated and was replaced the same sense of awe I experienced upon seeing the cliffs meeting the blue ocean in Cape Town.
We landed in Kathmandu and I found exactly what I was looking for. The people were warm and friendly. And while the shop keepers still hounded me, they accepted "no thank you" as an answer. Nobody stares at me in wonderment nor takes my picture. The streets are clean as are the guest houses and all of the shitting occurs in toilets, where it belongs. I think I have found Nirvana.
I've been staying in the Thamel section of Kathmandu, a vibrant bizarre, a jumble of tourists and locals dotted with centuries old temples and pagodas. The streets buzz with vivid colors, a cacophony of sounds and the rich aromas of spice and incense. And while I enlikened occasional smells of India to the porta-potty in the parking lot of a Giant Stadium tailgate, Kathmandu smells more like the inside of Giant Stadium during a Phish concert. It smells like weed here, often. While the valley sits at 4,500 feet. I get the impression that the elevation isn't the only thing that qualifies this city as high. I also get the impression that my name translated in Nepalese is "Hash" because as I walk the streets, everyone walks by me, looks at me as says "Hash? Hash?"
Following a few days of kicking around Kathmandu I decided to head south to the low-lying jungles of Chitwan National Park. It's been months since I left Africa and I was in the mood for a wildlife expedition.
The bus left Kathmandu at 7am and for the following 7 hours we rode along steep cliffs over looking the Karayuni River. The view was magnificent and sometimes terrifying as vehicles routinely overtook one another around blind turns. The sky was clear and blue and the walls of the river valley were almost iridescent green, this is the end of monsoon season. A few hours into the journeyI looked out the window as we were stopped in traffic. It was here that I came to the stunning realization, "Oh my God, this entire valley is covered in marijuana plants" (Hey B-head, I think I found your Shangri-la) Epiphany! Now I understand the Kathmandu tourist culture, this put my earlier observations into perspective.
We pulled into Savrahar, a village of the indigenous Tharu people where I stayed in a local guest house they made of mud. The following morning I headed out into the jungle with my guides Shiva and Ram, and Mae another traveler from China. Unlike Africa where I spent my time on a truck driving through manicured roads with certified guides who carried CB radios and rifles. We hiked through virgin tropical jungle in 90 degree heat through 25 foot tall grass.
Ram and Shiva walked the whole thing in flip flops armed only with bamboo sticks they fashioned into walking sticks to fend off Bengal Tigers, Sloth Bears and Rhinos (I figured, hey they grew up here, they know what they're doing). As we walked throughout the day we stopped periodically to take a drink of water, admire the incredible views of the Himalaya rising 7000 meters in the distance
and to pull leaches off of our bodies. We stopped for lunch after 5 hours, then pressed on into sunset. That evening we spent the night in another Tharu village. After covering 18Km, sleep came with no problem.
The following morning we hiked on through the village and caught a bus. The four of us climbed onto the roof to enjoy the view. Over the next 40 minutes we rode through villages and talked. I was heading back to Savrahar for an afternoon elephant-back safari, but I learned that there would be a transit strike the next day so I had to catch the next bus to Kathmandu or risk getting stuck in the jungle.
While I could've easily spent the next week chilling with Ram, Shiva and their family, I needed to get back. See I was lucky enough to be granted a visa to visit Bhutan, the last of the untouched Himalayan Buddhist Kingdoms. According to the books, only around five thousand tourists a year are allowed in. I applied when I landed in Nepal and I was chosen. I'll be taking a five-day excursion to Bhutan tomorrow afterward I'll return to Nepal to visit Mt. Everest and trek through the Himalaya so stay tuned.
