I'm suffering from writers block... How can you keep people interested in your story if there are no uncomfortable conditions or hidden twists? And here I thought I had a chance at being a good writer. Anyone can tell a story if the events alone can hold the audience's attention. It's relaying the info when things are good that separates a writer from a hack. I fear that I may fall into the latter category, but I'll give it a go just in case.
In short, things are good. But before I explain what I've been up to, I should elaborate on my motives behind this 7-month journey. For the benefit of those who may not know, I've always wanted to go to Nepal. And specifically, to see Mt. Everest. So much that I planned this entire journey with this trekking section as the focal point. Basically, no one but my parents would have known that. So yes, there was an underlying method to my apparent madness described through the ordeals of the previous entries. Knowing that trekking in the Himalayas was in my future has been my lifeline more than once. I am the ass and it is my carrot dangled in from of me as I stumble through India and Africa.
The time had finally come and it has been a surreal experience. My expectations were met as soon as I got on the bus for the "8 hour ride." I used the quotations because that was supposed to be the time it took to get us to Jiri (the starting point of the trek). 2 flat tires tend to add on a little, though. More like 12 hours. But nothing could have gotten us down. Do you want to know why? We rode on the roof the entire time. The road wound through the foothills up and over the passes. We made ourselves seats in the luggage and stared at the vista of mountains on the horizon. This was probably my first actual sight of Everest but I'm not counting it because I couldn't pick it out of the lineup.
So the bus was an unexpected bonus to an already incredible trip. I think I will spare my audience the details of our day-to-day activities during the walking part and lump them in together as best I can.
The trip took 21 days. We walked an average of 7-9 hours in total per day. My only criticism was that someone should give a little lecture to the Nepali culture. They are firm believers making straight lines from point A to point B. The first 7 days were spent climbing straight up a peak, then straight back down to a river. It had me dreaming of all those nice flat lake walks around the Twin Cities. And I mean straight up... no switchbacks or anything. We were given a thorough butt kicking for a while and I reached previously unheard-of amounts of sweat excretion on a daily basis.
Which leads me to another major point. How much food do you think you have to eat to avoid losing weight on a trip like this one? I'm afraid that was a genuine question because we haven't found the answer yet. Here is an example of our daily ingestion:
Breakfast- 2 egg omelet, large pancake with jam, coffee.
2nd breakfast- about 300 grams of cheese with a box of crackers.
Brunch- trail mix
Lunch- Dal Baht. This is the national dish of Nepal and deserves an explanation. It's a heaping plate of white rice, a vegetable curry, and a lentil sauce all mixed together. They keep refilling your plate until you cry or pass out (or both)... it's ok, but I miss Indian food.
Mid-afternoon Snack- usually more crackers and a snicker bar.
Dinner- At least 2 entrees and an appetizer. And don't forget the apple pie.
That was our best effort and it did no good at all... We are skinny. So much that I'm afraid of getting yelled at when I return home in a month. Sorry Dad, I tried. Please tell Jackie that we will have to double our chocolate milkshake efforts over xmas.
The trip itself was essentially two stages:
Jiri to Namche Bazaar (8 days)- Up and down and up and down until you can't take it any more. Almost no one does this part. They prefer to skip it and I understand why. More for us, though, and we enjoyed being the only tourists on the trail
.
Namche to Everest Base camp and back (13 days)- Entirely above tree line. 3500 meters to start, then up to 5500 meters in elevation at the highest point... I don't know how to describe the beauty of those mountains except to say that there is no way to capture it in a picture (we tried a lot, though). It's the kind of beauty that can suddenly make you want to cry and you don't know why.
I got my first real glimpse of Mt Everest watching the sunrise on October 17th. How do I remember the date? Because it marked exactly 5 months of travel to get there. How cool is that? Do you want to know what I felt when I saw it? ....Eh. It's not actually what you would expect. The others in front of it stole the show. But I did make this realization... It is true when you hear that the journey is more important than the destination. For me, it turned out to be more about getting to Everest than being there. It took me exactly 5 months to get there and seeing it made me realize just how great everything else has been along the way. Sorry about the use of an old cliche, but it was the best I could think of.
We gave ourselves 6 days of rest/internet splurging before starting another trek. Here are my questions I can't answer about all the world events we missed... When did the Rockies become good? There are fires in California? Is Hillary really going to be president? Brett Favre isn't dead? ... Really?!
So we were left with many questions on our mind, but no time to dwell on them. It was onto the 7 day Annapurna Trek, or victory lap, as we like to call it.
We treated this trip a little differently than the previous one. It was time for a new set of goals because we had already earned our merit badges for physical accomplishment. So here they are... Apple pie every night (no exceptions), 1kg of chocolate to be eaten freely, and as many fake stories and patronizing smiles to be handed out to other trekkers. Our last fake story was that I'm an aspiring Astronaut and Lindsay is a cowgirl. I saw her lasso-ing a herd from my rocket ship and we ran away together. It's more interesting than repeating the same old story about two kids from Colorado. The patronizing smile part goes a little like this... Head cocked, no teeth showing, hands on hips, preferably when you are descending a hill they are climbing. It takes some practice, but the end product is well worth it.
You may not understand our reasoning for all of this, but how else can you keep laughing if you spend everyday with the same person? We've kept it up somehow, but the material is getting a little thin. We both agree that there may be a public wrestling match of sibling sized proportions in our futures. Our conversations have recently dwindled down to arguments over whether the word "poop" is an onomonopia (you know... pooooooo...p. You can tell which side I'm on. Feel free to weigh in), or reenacting old SNL skits. The latest laugh is from the superfans (da Bears!). "Hold on! Hold on! The name of the hurricane... is Hurricane Ditka!" I'm sorry if that isn't funny for you, but it's enough to make me smile just writing it down.
28 out of the last 34 days have been spent walking and I have a great deal of respect for Lindsay (mostly newfound). Not just for putting up with me, but for the amount of pain she's been through. She started experiencing knee pain on the 2nd day of the Everest Trek and it hasn't gone away since. Anyone who can relate to that pain will tell you that the last thing you want to do with a bad knee is climb and descend mountains everyday. But she never complained. She is the toughest person that I have ever met and deserves all the credit in the world... I gave her the spirit award for the trip. You know, the one they always give the fat kid at track and field day?
This has been a hard update to write. I tried once 2 weeks ago and couldn't finish. I think it was because I hadn't gotten the closure that I was looking for. I found it on the roof of the bus riding back after our 2nd trek. It was going out the way we came in and it felt like I had finished something important. Except this time we got caught in the rain. But hey, it makes for a fitting end right?
So now it's on to bigger and better things. Maybe some White Water Rafting, or bungee jumping. We'll have to see. All I know for certain is that there is another long train trip in my future too because my flight is out of Mumbai on December 4th (that's 55 hours of trains away right now). So stay tuned because things are going to get interesting.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
A Lifetime in a Week
I think I was still in the North of India when I last wrote. The prospect of pushing "back" and checking from the previous post gives me the shivers. Waiting for these dial up connections have put years on my life. Or maybe it's just been the events of the last week.
So lets do a quick recap of Leh, or paradise as I like to call it. It's a small Buddhist village where we stayed in a guesthouse filled with beautiful gardens. Every male is a gentle old man that greets you with genuine kindness when you walk past. It sounds a little like this. "JOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLAAAAAAAAAYYYYY!!!! Jule jule jule jule." In reality, they are saying "jule," which means hello/goodbye/please/thank you in Tibetan. I loved that place. We rode camels to the border of Tibet and drove the group crazy by singing the entire score from "Aladin" (again). Yes, we are American. I've come to terms with that. The prospect of leaving a place like Leh for a place like Delhi makes you wonder what you have done wrong. Maybe it's from a past life. That's what a Buddhist might say.
Delhi was Delhi all over again, but at least we knew what to expect this time. I want to add two more articles to my list of things on/in the streets. A man with elephantitis of his "you know what," and human excrement. Yes human... and I am winning the race for how many times we can step in it in our sandals. Or losing. Let's just say I've done it more than once.
But I've described Delhi before so let's get to the point. Our plan was to find a flight to Kathmandu and get out as fast as possible. That should be easy right? WRONG! Here's a little known fact. There is not one seat available on ANY flight to Kathmandu from ANYWHERE in India until mid-October... I didn't see that coming. After an hour or two of fretting, we concocted a plan to make a trip out of it. Here is a small overview of the immediate future for us from that point. Train to Agra (Taj Mahal), overnight train to Varanasi (Ganges River), overnight train to Gorukphur (shithole), bus to border, bus to Chitwan Nat'l Park in Nepal. Four full days of travel in all and some experiences that have put greyhairs on my head.
So this is my opinion of Agra. "Rickshaw! Rickshaw! Postcard! Postcard! Where are you going? Where are you going?" This was the chorus that followed us through the streets. We drew a lot of attention and only deserved a small fraction of it. But what can you expect? We were in the most "touristy" place in India. To not see it coming would be like visiting Mt Rushmore and acting surprised to see cheesy T-shirts and small plasitc sculptures for sale. That being said, however, the Taj Mahal was worth checking out. Every piece of marble is perfectly handcarved and placed. It suited my OCD mind too because the structure is perfectly symetrical down to the millimeter. We whiled away most of the day taking extra goofy pics and causing some general distress among the middle aged and older demographic of tourists that surrounded us.
We thought we could save some stress by adding a layover night to our journey and sleeping in a bed in Agra. It didn't exactly work out that way. The plumbing in our hotel went awry somehow that evening while we slept. We were greeted with an unpleasant sight from the hallway in the morning and it was the smell that actually woke us. Bad omen? Maybe.
Let's just skip the events of the rest of our 2nd day in Agra for this post... I wouldn't mind having those hours of my life back.
So we got out of town in search of the next big adventure. I should point out the obvious here and say that trains are not the easiest place to sleep. They stop every hour or so and men walk up and down the hallway yelling "chai!!!" I would like to insert a sidenote here that I love my mother. She gave me a small stash of sleeping pills a long time ago and I found my emergency to use them. She is the reason why I made it through.
Varanasi takes an extreme amount of patience to enjoy. This city is overflowing with people and the Ganges river is not much of a sight, although it does have record amounts of fecal matter. But, it is the place of origin for the Hindu religion and people travel from everywhere to bathe in the Ganges. We spent the day fighting off cute little girls trying to sell us Karma candles and taking in all the vibrant colors. I hope I never have daughters because they will walk all over me. They can sense my weakness because they know I think their cute.
The torrential rains started shortly after dark and we were forced to head to the Varanasi train station a few hours early. We had heard that it was busy, but I think I can safely say that is the biggest understatement I have ever heard. There are literally piles of people. Train stations are a good place for people watching. It was mostly just people watching us, though. Here is a list of things we observed during our brief visit: thousands of Indian people, 4 white tourists (including us), and a dirty begging child that grabbed us in the dark when the power went out. We found a place to sit and played cards. Not because we wanted to, but because we had to. We ignored the stares and our play was only interupted twice. Once by an old man wearing a green plastic bag for a hat. He stopped, walked up to us, put his hand on his knees and his face about 12 inches from our. His stare was like he was looking at fish in a tank. It's hard to prepare for that sort of interaction. Here is our dialogue:
Lindsay: Mike, what do I do?
Mike: I guess just ignore him.
L: How?!!
M: Well, let's try to think of the reasons why we shouldn't kill ourselves.
(pause)
M: Ok, I have one. We have some gum to chew. That's it, though.
He did leave eventually and we have a new inside joke to laugh about. The second interuption was one that makes you think a little. There was a cow making the rounds through the station. Who owned him? Which train was he riding? Which bunk would he be on? How can he avoid stepping on people here when I can't? Here's the tricky part, though. He was on the middle platform. That means he would have had to go up and down a flight of stairs and a walkway to get to where we saw him. Hmmmmmm. Another thought nugget to occupy my time.
Let's speed up the pace here. Our train did come (one hour late), Gorukphur IS a terrible town and there is no reason to go there, the bus to the border of Nepal was 6 hours and not the 2 we thought it was, we endured four hours at the border waiting for our crowded bus to leave, and yes, we DID get a flat tire 1km out of town. It rained the entire time too. But we made it to Chitwan National Park. All we wanted was a shower and a good night sleep. There is no way to describe how dirty we were, so I won't. We didn't get it. There was no water pressure and I slept in a bed with blood stains.
I'm sorry for being so graphic but I'm trying to paint a picture here. Things needed to start getting better soon... They did. We switched hotels and the sun came back out (in my soul and outside). Then we spent 3 days in a village in South Nepal. We took canoe safaris and jungle walks. We rode elephants in search of rhinos and tigers, then we swam with them and they sprayed me with water from their trunks. I had just enough time to visit the elephant breeding center and feed the babies cookies before catching a bus to Kathmandu (where I am now).
Together, we feel like we have been tested. We passed, but barely. I feel like I've lost a little innocense along the way. But the upside is that we are weathered and these Nepali touts and scam artists here in Kathmandu seem soft to me. They don't know what we've been through to get here. The end product is that I have this feeling like everything is going to be alright now.
We leave tomorrow to trek to the base of Mt Everest for the next 22-30 days. We've earned it. Hopefully the next post will be all gum drops and lolly pops. Boring for you, but sweet relief for me. Wish us luck and I'll be in touch.
So lets do a quick recap of Leh, or paradise as I like to call it. It's a small Buddhist village where we stayed in a guesthouse filled with beautiful gardens. Every male is a gentle old man that greets you with genuine kindness when you walk past. It sounds a little like this. "JOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLAAAAAAAAAYYYYY!!!! Jule jule jule jule." In reality, they are saying "jule," which means hello/goodbye/please/thank you in Tibetan. I loved that place. We rode camels to the border of Tibet and drove the group crazy by singing the entire score from "Aladin" (again). Yes, we are American. I've come to terms with that. The prospect of leaving a place like Leh for a place like Delhi makes you wonder what you have done wrong. Maybe it's from a past life. That's what a Buddhist might say.
Delhi was Delhi all over again, but at least we knew what to expect this time. I want to add two more articles to my list of things on/in the streets. A man with elephantitis of his "you know what," and human excrement. Yes human... and I am winning the race for how many times we can step in it in our sandals. Or losing. Let's just say I've done it more than once.
But I've described Delhi before so let's get to the point. Our plan was to find a flight to Kathmandu and get out as fast as possible. That should be easy right? WRONG! Here's a little known fact. There is not one seat available on ANY flight to Kathmandu from ANYWHERE in India until mid-October... I didn't see that coming. After an hour or two of fretting, we concocted a plan to make a trip out of it. Here is a small overview of the immediate future for us from that point. Train to Agra (Taj Mahal), overnight train to Varanasi (Ganges River), overnight train to Gorukphur (shithole), bus to border, bus to Chitwan Nat'l Park in Nepal. Four full days of travel in all and some experiences that have put greyhairs on my head.
So this is my opinion of Agra. "Rickshaw! Rickshaw! Postcard! Postcard! Where are you going? Where are you going?" This was the chorus that followed us through the streets. We drew a lot of attention and only deserved a small fraction of it. But what can you expect? We were in the most "touristy" place in India. To not see it coming would be like visiting Mt Rushmore and acting surprised to see cheesy T-shirts and small plasitc sculptures for sale. That being said, however, the Taj Mahal was worth checking out. Every piece of marble is perfectly handcarved and placed. It suited my OCD mind too because the structure is perfectly symetrical down to the millimeter. We whiled away most of the day taking extra goofy pics and causing some general distress among the middle aged and older demographic of tourists that surrounded us.
We thought we could save some stress by adding a layover night to our journey and sleeping in a bed in Agra. It didn't exactly work out that way. The plumbing in our hotel went awry somehow that evening while we slept. We were greeted with an unpleasant sight from the hallway in the morning and it was the smell that actually woke us. Bad omen? Maybe.
Let's just skip the events of the rest of our 2nd day in Agra for this post... I wouldn't mind having those hours of my life back.
So we got out of town in search of the next big adventure. I should point out the obvious here and say that trains are not the easiest place to sleep. They stop every hour or so and men walk up and down the hallway yelling "chai!!!" I would like to insert a sidenote here that I love my mother. She gave me a small stash of sleeping pills a long time ago and I found my emergency to use them. She is the reason why I made it through.
Varanasi takes an extreme amount of patience to enjoy. This city is overflowing with people and the Ganges river is not much of a sight, although it does have record amounts of fecal matter. But, it is the place of origin for the Hindu religion and people travel from everywhere to bathe in the Ganges. We spent the day fighting off cute little girls trying to sell us Karma candles and taking in all the vibrant colors. I hope I never have daughters because they will walk all over me. They can sense my weakness because they know I think their cute.
The torrential rains started shortly after dark and we were forced to head to the Varanasi train station a few hours early. We had heard that it was busy, but I think I can safely say that is the biggest understatement I have ever heard. There are literally piles of people. Train stations are a good place for people watching. It was mostly just people watching us, though. Here is a list of things we observed during our brief visit: thousands of Indian people, 4 white tourists (including us), and a dirty begging child that grabbed us in the dark when the power went out. We found a place to sit and played cards. Not because we wanted to, but because we had to. We ignored the stares and our play was only interupted twice. Once by an old man wearing a green plastic bag for a hat. He stopped, walked up to us, put his hand on his knees and his face about 12 inches from our. His stare was like he was looking at fish in a tank. It's hard to prepare for that sort of interaction. Here is our dialogue:
Lindsay: Mike, what do I do?
Mike: I guess just ignore him.
L: How?!!
M: Well, let's try to think of the reasons why we shouldn't kill ourselves.
(pause)
M: Ok, I have one. We have some gum to chew. That's it, though.
He did leave eventually and we have a new inside joke to laugh about. The second interuption was one that makes you think a little. There was a cow making the rounds through the station. Who owned him? Which train was he riding? Which bunk would he be on? How can he avoid stepping on people here when I can't? Here's the tricky part, though. He was on the middle platform. That means he would have had to go up and down a flight of stairs and a walkway to get to where we saw him. Hmmmmmm. Another thought nugget to occupy my time.
Let's speed up the pace here. Our train did come (one hour late), Gorukphur IS a terrible town and there is no reason to go there, the bus to the border of Nepal was 6 hours and not the 2 we thought it was, we endured four hours at the border waiting for our crowded bus to leave, and yes, we DID get a flat tire 1km out of town. It rained the entire time too. But we made it to Chitwan National Park. All we wanted was a shower and a good night sleep. There is no way to describe how dirty we were, so I won't. We didn't get it. There was no water pressure and I slept in a bed with blood stains.
I'm sorry for being so graphic but I'm trying to paint a picture here. Things needed to start getting better soon... They did. We switched hotels and the sun came back out (in my soul and outside). Then we spent 3 days in a village in South Nepal. We took canoe safaris and jungle walks. We rode elephants in search of rhinos and tigers, then we swam with them and they sprayed me with water from their trunks. I had just enough time to visit the elephant breeding center and feed the babies cookies before catching a bus to Kathmandu (where I am now).
Together, we feel like we have been tested. We passed, but barely. I feel like I've lost a little innocense along the way. But the upside is that we are weathered and these Nepali touts and scam artists here in Kathmandu seem soft to me. They don't know what we've been through to get here. The end product is that I have this feeling like everything is going to be alright now.
We leave tomorrow to trek to the base of Mt Everest for the next 22-30 days. We've earned it. Hopefully the next post will be all gum drops and lolly pops. Boring for you, but sweet relief for me. Wish us luck and I'll be in touch.
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