Up Into the Mountains

So three cheers for you if you’ve kept up with my obsessive amount of blog entries over the past few days. I figured that I needed to get in as many as possible, as this will be my last one for at least three weeks.

That’s right. Three weeks without my elaborate descriptions and contemplations on travel in the subcontinent. I hope you’ll be able to manage.

In the mean time, I’ll be heading right up into the mountains of the Annapurna Region in Nepal. It’ll take me about three weeks to go around the Annapurna Circuit, a famous “tea house trek” going to a max elevation of just over 5000 meters. Unlike trekking in the rockies however, you don’t need to carry food, a tent, stove, and many supplies. This is because you stay at reasonable well maintained guest houses every night on the trail. Thus, I think it will be quite a different hiking experience than what I’m used to.

In addition to the beautiful views and probably standing higher than I ever will in my life, I’m looking forward to some interesting conversations with the different village people I meet. A particularly interesting concept will be the topic of road construction in the previously “undisturbed” trail area.

Many tourists have treated this as an extremely negative impact on the beloved mountain region. However, I see it as an important step in infrastructure growth for agricultural extension, especially since most of the villagers are farmers. I’ll let you know what I found out upon return.

I’m hiking with two guys–one from Ireland and one from Vancouver. Another engineer and a specialist in media communications; so I’m certain there will be some interesting conversations and discussion to go along with the local observations.

Since I’ve got to finish my packing and get ready for an early morning tomorrow, I’ll leave things there. Enjoy your next few weeks, and I’ll look forward to catching up with everyone when I’m back in internet contact. Take care!

Non-Written Communication

I was able to post a FEW photos on my Flickr page (Kolkata, Puri, Darjeeling, and Johdpur). Check it out at:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/8673624@N04/

Shoeshiners and Starbucks

There’s an interesting paradox that I have observed both in India and Nepal now (mostly in the urban centres): the prevalence of shoeshiners.

Now maybe I’m a little ‘new-school’, but I tend to consider shoe shining an activity you do yourself when heading out to an especially fancy occasion. (Formal event, job interview, etc). Maybe I also don’t take good enough care of my shoes, but I don’t really keep regular loafers polished on a day to day basis. Perhaps because the majority of guys are more like me in this case, shoeshiners in Canada seem to be mostly found at airports, office buildings, and high quality gym clubs. (As my gross simplification).

What a stark difference here!

In the non-tourist areas of most parts of the cities, you will find a shoe shiner on almost every second corner. Albeit, they don’t have luxurious seats or newspapers to read while your shoes are being shined; but they are nonetheless for the purpose of keeping yourself clean and presentable.

I didn’t really consider the bizarreness of this until today, when I had just been having a conversation with some other foreigners about the unfortunate state of griminess within Kathmandu. Dusty roads, polluted air, garbage in the streets, and open gutters. So as I passed a few shoeshiners, I was pondering the “dirtiness” of the cities in India, and now Kathmandu. How could this dichotomy exist? Why would you even want to get your shoes shined when it was quite likely you were going to be walking down a gravel road through mud in the very near future?

But then something sort of clicked for me.

For the cleanliness of the city is really not connected to any part of the culture. Rather, it is simply a product of limited funds for social services–particularly in the area of municipal environmental infrastructure. When a government is struggling for its citizen safety in the harsh conditions of “extremist group” activity (Read: those living in poverty with demands for better livelihoods), creating solid, water, and refuse management systems is probably not at the top of the priority list.

Therefore, it seemed to me that the success of shoeshiners is akin to the historical success of the Starbucks coffee chain (ignoring the situation that they are currently in). In the same way that middle class North America desired to experience their “ten minutes of luxury” every morning with the boutique espresso experience, I think the middle class Indian and Nepali man desire the “cleanliness” experience of shoe shining.

What do you think? Is this an obtuse, insensitive conclusion, or does it perhaps bring some degree of reality?

Organization! Before chaos… into Nepal.

Is your interest piqued yet?

If you know me well, then you know I LOVE to be organized. Some people might consider this to be a little sickly, but I thrive on to-do lists, timelines, goal-setting (see previous post), and more (ie. GANTT Charts). A highlight in travelling is being able to keep crazy organized in your back pack with many different sized mesh bags (thank you Nicole!) and of course, the bic four colour pen.

When I’m on the go from city to city, I like to have a timeline of where I’ll be at what time, how I will get there, how long it will take, etcetera, etcetera. As I made my way to the Nepal border crossing, I was feeling particularly pleased with myself:

• I had my passport photos all ready to go for my visa application.
• I was informed with all the happenings in Nepal due to my rigorous check of the Nepal news sites and Canadian Department of Foreign Affairs.
• My dates were set, but flexible for doing my trek, and getting back to Varanasi to see the famous Ganges river.
• I’d even booked my train ticket for the busy ride between Varanasi and Agra–which isn’t until April!

Sounds pretty perfect right?

WRONG

Upon checking into my hotel, the reception boy kindly informed me that there was in fact a strike/demonstration going on between Kakarbhitta (the border town I was at) and Kathmandu (where I needed to go). Without the road being blocked, I had planned on taking two days to travel by bus, since the roads are in bad shape as it is, and travelling at night is not usually a wise idea.

However, NOW buses were having to travel either north through areas where there were ‘poor quality roads’ (did they even exist at all?) or south into the Indian state of Bihar, where most tourists don’t travel due to the instability of the state. (READ: being held at gunpoint to give all your money and possessions). Needless to say, neither of these options particularly appealed to me. But in my weariness of scams, I was not entirely sold that this entire ‘blockade’ was really happening.

So here’s my point of crucial observation.

I could either take the moment as chaos, and wallow in self pity in my hotel room for how harshly my perfectly laid plans had been destructed (Which, despite how childish I make it sound, is actually rather appealing at the time) or I could ‘make the most of it’ and enjoy my time in this not-so-hoppin border town.

Two great things came out of this: (I chose option number two)

1. I got to retain my organizational value by making of seven point plan for how I would mitigate the situations, thinking of sub-plans for any case that could arise. You might think of such an activity as tedious or unenjoyable, but I happen to be thrilled by such pursuits. (Big shout out to my mom who served a crucial role in some “reverse outsourcing” research while I slept—can it get any more efficient?) The only down side was that I could not formalize my mitigation plan in a beautifully formatted word document.
2. I had a few really great encounters in this small, boring and unexciting border town:

• A man from across the border in Indian who worked in marketing, and was trying to sell a “Ripley’s: Believe it or not” book. After giving me his best effort with the pitch, we keenly discussed the difficulties in marketing strategies to different types of people in different countries. Incidentally, I was able to include a good anecdote from Tea Room.
• A back alley pathway led me to a quaint “river side” pathway. I put it in quotation marks because the water was really a tiny creek in the dried up riverbed. How are the harsh agricultural practices relating to water use affecting the recharge rate for water needs in the coming generation? How will this be further affected by climate change affecting the glaciers in the Himalayas?
• A number of great conversations with a Brahman (high caste) math teacher who I shared a spot with at the airport while waiting for our flight. He had some interesting convictions on the nature of intelligent high school students going abroad for university, only to remain there after finishing their studies. He felt that it was important for the people to remain in the country so that they could contribute back to their own economy. The prelude to some startling similarities with Ghana that I did not witness as greatly in India.

I did make it to Kathmandu just fine (though out a bit more money than I expected). In terms of the experience, I couldn’t imagine two days involving such a mix of spontaneous observation with strict organizational pursuits.

Moral of the story? Make the most of your situation.

The Tea Room — A perfect throwback

Darjeeling is arguably one of the best places in the world to visit when you’re as crazy about tea as I am. My enthusiasm is a mix of natural caffeine appreciation and fond memories of my old Tea Room days. (Which were two years ago now–how time flies).

The tea plantations in Darjeeling were originally started when the British expanded their rule in India, looking to break the monopoly China held over the famous plant (which, as you know, is particularly well enjoyed in the UK). The hill climate and soil proved to be a particularly potent place for the tea plant (camelia sinensus) to grow, and so became the famous Darjeeling tea.

I made my way down to a tea plantation nearby to the Darjeeling town sight called “Happy Valley”. The signs were littered with a ‘Harrod’s’ logo, which, unbeknownst to me, is a very high quality retailer in Britain. Unfortunately, the factory at the bottom of the hill was not in operation because the tea leaf picking does not begin until May. However, it was pretty incredible to view the hillside flourishing with the bright green bushes, and imagine the teams of pickers gathering all the perfect ‘buds’.

What I did encounter at the bottom of the hill was a friendly lady offering tea tasting lessons. Could there be a better activity for me?

I think not.

The first item to get out of the way is the name of the most famous Darjeeling tea:

Super fine tippy golden flowery orange pekoe one

Now say that ten times fast.

The name comes from the fact that the ‘super fine tip’ is picked at the very beginning of the season (pekoe one) to create a tea that is golden orange from a plant with flowers. Yeah. The name seems a bit out of order, but she was really proud of reciting it, and getting me to struggle in repeating it back to her. Another interesting fact is that this tea only needs to be steeped for five seconds! (Most teas require between three and five minutes).

You will be happy to know that I proceeded to ace the ‘tea smelling’ test. (I guess all that “expert knowledge” from the Tea Room wasn’t a complete hoax).

The experience was a great deal of fun, though I wish I could have learned some more information about the crop’s role as a cash crop. The tea growing region extends over into Nepal, and I think it plays a much more significant part here, sheerly based on the reduced income of the country and the heavy reliance on agriculture. I’ll try to learn some more and keep you posted.

Darjeeling Limited

Alright. Onto the more exciting observations from my time in Darjeeling.

My favorite moment was sitting in a Buddhist Monastery on a cool, misty morning surrounded by about twenty different monks, ranging in age from about fifteen to eighty, dressed all in red and yellow, and chanting intently to the prayer flags in front of them. Despite an underwhelming interior to the goompa (what monasteries are called)  in comparison to many of the beautiful Hindu temples, it more spiritual than anything else I have visited during this trip.

As I descended switchbacks on a hill sides, smiling at the different people I encountered (clad in their north face down jackets or beautiful woolen shawls), the chanting grew graually louder and louder. When I finally turned the corner and saw the monastery, it truly felt as though I was in Eastern Asia. The stepped pagoda design with the red coloring and gold peaks is something that I have now learned actually came from Nepal. However, this architecture accompanied the Buddhist religions movement East where the pagodas are perhaps more famous.

When I entered the pagoda itself, I felt so welcome! There was no priest coming to hassle me for a donation, or take me on a tour of the temple in a way that prevented me from passively observing what was happening. Instead, I took a few minutes to look around, and was then invited to sit by a monk who was about my age. How incredible is that!? I sat for about ten  minutes taking everything in, and becoming increasingly curious about the Buddhist practice.

Now, from Nepal, I am quite interested to learn how the experience compares to my encounters of Tibetan Buddhist here, and especially during my trek through the mountainous Annapurna.

Further, I am also curious to intrinsically evaluate whether I am less critical of the Buddhist (as well as Hindu) traditions and practices because they are native to the sub continent. In comparison, I was quite critical of how Christianity had been imposed (to an extent) upon the people in Ghana through imperialism and missionary work, and how an oft-encountered conviction for this religion created very startling world-views (especially of the west). I haven’t been having the same uncomfortable feelings of critique here, but wonder if that is only because it’s not a product of imperialism?

My other experiences included a visit to the local zoo (where animals were in much better care than I expected), a tour through the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, and an early morning (read 3:30 am) wake up for the sun rise at a nearby hill. My acceleration through the zoo made me realize just how spoilt we are in Calgary with the fantastic range of animals. Learning about the many tremendous Everest mountaineering attempts got me very excited for my Nepal trekking. And the beautiful sunrise was the perfect conclusion to my time in Darjeeling.

The Workman Refocusing

Wow. This has got to be the lengthiest time for me between blog posts.

Please know that this was in fact not due to being away from the internet, and was simply a product of my fantastic relaxation time in Darjeeling. Of course, I have a few things to update on (including an exciting trip into Kathmandu where I am writing from), but I’ll break it up into a few different readable posts.

The most poignant observation from my time in the famous hill station of Darjeeling was the overwhelming laid back nature of the different people I met and observed. Being quite used to the out-going attitude of everyone that I have met so far, this was quite the interesting environment to enter! What it led to was a solid few days of self reflection. Of course, travelling on my own, this has been a major part of my trip. However, being set in the mountains with this amazing culture in authentic Darjeeling tea shops was perhaps the best setting.

So the biggest highlight from my introspection?

My realization of how incredible and unique this journey is. Yes. I know how cliche that sounds. But let me put it this way, when else in your ENTIRE LIFE are you able to pack up everything, leave all friends and family, and explore fascinating foreign geography for THREE MONTHS!? In thinking about where I’ll be in the future, I find it hard to imagine when I’ll be able to have this type of experience again.

Thus, I must give a cheesy shout out to my parents for providing the support to enable this trip. It’s really meant a lot, and has been such an incredible opportunity for experiencing diverse and vibrant cultures, as well as setting my own focus for the short and long term time to come.

My other reflections surrounded goal setting for the remainder of my trip. Gee, I’m just really cramming all the embarassing tidbits into one post, eh? Well anyway, we did this in Ghana, and though the context is vastly different where I am now, I think the value of doing a ‘goal setting’ process is quite valuable. Basically, we thought about the time we had spent in Ghana and with KITE so far, what had gone well, what had gone not so well, and how we would optimize our time for the remainder of the internship.

And I’ve done the same now:

1. Have more conversations with local people. Not only this, but ask deeper questions–going beyond the standard “what is your name”, “where are you from”, “how do you like …” provides much more interesting responses, and a greater opportunity for learning. It can be tiring and overwhelming, but is by all means worth it at the end of the day.
2. Become more observant. I realize that in an effort to ‘seem confident’ and ‘ward off touts’, I often walk too fast, miss what is around me, and don’t have time to think critically about the culture that I’m experiencing. Therefore, I’m going to slow down, chill out, and smile more.

If you made it this for, thanks for reading. This is sort of my outlet to ‘stay accountable’ with my goals. If you don’t hear more stories of conversations with people, or detailed observations of what I’m experiencing–please, please, please: send me a rude email.

Why I Can’t Stop Grinning

The Contrast

Most important, perhaps,  is the ever formidable factor of contrast. And so, before keying in on what made today so good, I will key you in on a memorable sleeping experience from last night.

Situated in the “transport stop over town” of New Jalpaiguri (or NJP as it is locally called) between Kolkata and the many West Bengal hill towns, I stopped at the first hotel from the train station. After briefly checking out a room, I agreed to 175 rupees (about 5 dollars), dropped my stuff, and went to search out some dinner. Mediocre at best. A large pile of rise with two luke warm varieties of “sauces” which seemed more like hot water with a bit of salt and chillies added in.

Satisfied with some after dinner chai, I settled down in my (now noticeably dirty) bed to do some reading. Unfortunately, I couldn’t seem to digest more than 3 or 4 sentences at a time because I was constantly swatting away pesty mosquitos. With irritation, I lathered on bug spray and “clapped” as many dead as I could and climbed back into bed reflecting on how I had given away my bug net only 6 days earlier in Puri because I thought I was now on the ‘bug free’ track.

Wishful thinking.

I lasted maybe an hour before a whole new swath of mosquitoes seemed to have found me. I repeated my routine, and finally turned the lights off for bed. Now, for the first time on my trip (and one of the few times in recent history), I have trouble getting to sleep. I sort of dose off for a bit, only to be woken up by an incessant buzzing around my face. My malaria fear precaution forces me to bunch the blanket (which was also dirty) around my face in a sort of “coverage” from the bugs.

Eventually I fell asleep for a bit, but was woken up about every 1.5 hours by the bugs around my face. I would get up, drench myself in deet, clap them dead, and go back to sleep. Tiring. Frustrating. And somewhat fear inducing.

Seven am I’m up and packing my things to head to the train station. Curiously, the mosquitoes are gone. However, when I’m walking to the (also dirty) bathroom in the corner of my room, I notice a dense black pattern on the window screen.

Guess what?

That dense black pattern = 50-60 mosquitoes

Gross. Looks like my laziness ended up in finding roommate comfort in a mosquito nest. Fingers crossed for no malaria! (Come on prophylaxis).

Today’s Story

Four separate factors make me realize why I can’t stop grinning today.

1. An eight hour journey into the West Bengal hills. This journey, however, is on a tiny little train which you only have to think of your old toy train sets to imagine. (Appropriately enough, it is called the “toy train”). I locked in a window seat, and couldn’t take my eyes away from it for the entire journey. We started in a lush, green, environment–almost like Vancouver island. As we started zigzagging higher, the landscape changed remarkably. The trees became taller and less dense; tea plantations intertwined with the natural surroundings; and deciduous gradually adjusted to coniferous–to match the equally adjusting temperature. As we climbed, we weaved in and out of what seemed to be impossible settlements perched on the ridge of cliffs. Not only that, but they were vibrant! Filled with chatting school kids in uniform, business people, and buildings.
2. I am now in Darjeeling. This beautiful town is set on a steep hill side, and is filled with tea shops, temples, and landmarks; all in view of the amazing Himalayas. I get to spend a week here–hiking, tasting tea and reading, and of course exploring at large.
3. My guest house feels like the Banff Springs. Actually. I’ve got four huge windows looking into the valley. A big desk for writing, planning, and reading. A double bed for sprawling out with four cozy (and clean) blankets. Hot water. A closet. Space. And best of all–no mosquito net.
4. A tremendous update email. These are the BEST to get while you are traveling (especially from animated people who are great writers). This put a successful cap to a great day, and before turning in, I’m going to enjoy a quick meal.

Hope a day comes along like this for you sometime soon. It feels great. I’m still grinning.

Almost Arrested

You bet.

First, a bit of background.

I’m four weeks into my trip (can you believe it?), and though I am still amazed at the many sights I’m seeing, I have an inkling feeling I’m starting to glaze over visuals I’m getting more used to. (Brightly colored saris, crowded vegetable markets, decrepit old buildings, etc). Hence, as I embark on my first day of sightseeing in Kolkata, I’ve made the conscious effort to take LOTS of photos.

Now, after a full morning of walking, I’ve made my way from the Treasury Building past the old City Council to the High Court. Camera flashing all the while, I enter the latter; and immediately notice a fantastic shot on my right. The sun lighting up dusty air between a range of pillars ornamented with chubby European babies at the top.

Snap. Snap.

…Pause.

“Excuse me sir, what are you doing?”

I glance around to see a guard dressed in white and black approach me.

Uh oh.

“Why are you taking pictures? You must ASK before you take snaps in a government place. Why did you not ask?”

Already attracting an audience around me, I immediately put on my most polite face and begin apologizing.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea you needed to ask. Would it be alright if I took some photos?”

With the crowd bulging out around us, the guard inquires, “Where you from?” to which I tell him Canada.

“What!? But Canadian people are so formal and polite. Why did you not ask?!”

I explain again that I am very sorry, and will delete the photos. I had no idea it was such an important place, and would be much more careful in the future.

Now, however, an older man with long white hair and a beard (dressed somewhat shabbily) emerges out of the crowd to aggressively request my passport.

“How do we know you’re Canada? Where’s your passport?”

Being pretty much the most important document you carry while traveling, I wasn’t going to hand it over to this random, helter skelter. So I told him that it was at my guest house (a lie–it was in my money belt), but he could look at my driver’s license. I hand it to him, only to have it launched back at me in disgust.

“This will NOT work! Why do you not have your passport?”

I stand there becoming increasingly uncomfortable while ‘white hair’ converses with guard. I lean forward, and inquire to the guard, “I’m sorry, but who is this man?”

“I am a Judge of the High Court of India!” white hair replies.

“He a Judge of the High Court of India!” the guard echoes.

Before I know it, I’m whisked over to a plastic lawn chair (the crowd follows), and have ‘white hair’ lay down a few more lessons.

“You are a foreign citizen! You must carry your passport with you everywhere. And now (picture him aggressively pointing at me), you will go to JAIL! Do you know what that means in Canada? JAY – EL!”

Tipping point. I stand up, uncover my money belt, and pull out my passport for the guard. By the time I look up, I could only see white hair trailing away through the crowd.

In a few moments, the guard confirms that I am legitimately a Canadian citizen with a tourist visa, and that I was allowed in to visit. (The other guards meanwhile trying to disperse the crowd).

Though I was a bit annoyed at ‘white hair’, I don’t think I would have handled the situation much differently if it happened again (other than being more cautious with my snaps around government buildings of course). Thus, I kind of just dismissed the incident and wandered about. The guard, however, came to relieve a bit of guilt and sort-of apologized to me.

It turned out to just be an affirmation of him stopping and telling me how foolish I was for taking photos without asking permission. I said I was sorry again, and he went on his way.

A humbling experience, I suppose, and one that could have very much left a bad taste in my mouth about “those mean Kolkata people”. However, when I reflected on it, would my experience really have been all that different in Turkey? Germany? Singapore? Canada? For one, it was very foolish to act with the normal “tourist confidence” in an extremely important government building. For two, though I hate to generalize, in a location teaming with opinionated lawyer/judge types, you must expect a much greater likelihood of getting into a confrontation.

At the end of the day, an important lesson learned and a great story for the travel memories.

Apologize

Communicating from abroad is very easy these days. Unfortunately, with communication via email, blog, and phone, I sometimes forget where I have mentioned certain things. And hence, I just realized that you don’t know why I haven’t been posting any more photos.

Is it too late to apologize?

When you connect your camera to most computers here, viruses are immediate transfered to your memory card, making it impossible to take any more photos. I recovered everything I had taken in Rajasthan after a bit of a scare in Udaipur, but made the decision that I will wait until I’m back in Canada to post them all online.

I know it’s much less exciting to look at photos after the fact, but I promise I’ll do some good compilation albums which will take up only a minimal amount of your time.