Summertime

It is starting to get hot in Delhi, and one sign is that the ice cream trucks are out. They sit on just about every street corner from about mid afternoon until late night. It cracked the 90 degree mark today and will be 95 by the weekend. The mornings are still somewhat cool, but even these are starting to get warm. I no longer have to wear my sweatshirt when running in the morning It will continue hot until the monsoon season hits from June to September. During that time you definitely do not want to be here. It is like the Tucson monsoon, except that it goes on all day (and night). In truth, I can't imagine what that is like. But for the rest of the time here it is just going to be hot, hot, hot.

Anniversary Dinner

Since Jane is leaving for China on Tuesday, we celebrated our anniversary a few days early by spending the night at the Shangri La and going to a real Chinese restaurant. Fortunately, the Chinese restaurant happened to be located in the Shangri La. But first we had to verify its authenticity by asking if in fact the chef was from China. Once we were assured he was, we took our table. The restaurant offers food from Sichuan (where I was located), Yunan (a province nearby) and Cantonese cuisine (from Hong Kong). We started with a cold dish of chicken slices in a marinade. Jane, however, was not quite satisfied. It seems the dish did not quite resemble the Chinese original ("this one is not that one"). She delivered the same verdict on the tofu and fish soup. Not that it wasn't good, but that it was not like the Chinese original. She loved the shrimp dumplings, however, and the main dish, twice-cooked pork from Sichuan, was a dead on recreation of the Chinese original that I knew. We left stuffed, although we somehow managed to find room for desert at the coffee shop in the lobby. We also agreed to alternate restaurants, so that next year we will eat Italian on our anniversary.

Grub Fest

Today we went to Grub Fest, the annual Delhi food fest, and ate too much. We started with smoked ribs, which was without a doubt the day. Next was some chicken stick sort of thing that I was not crazy about. In order to get the taste out of my mouth I ordered a chocolate shake, which was not really a chocolate shake. I have learned to be expect to be disappointed by attempts at Western food over here. Then i was onto sushi, and ended up with a Nutella waffle with banana. No need to eat for a couple of days.

Back to Normal Life (again)

So we spend a good amount of our time running out to various shops and stores in the neighborhood. There is no supermarket with everything like in the States. The Indians seem to rebel at such a notion. Instead, there are shops for every little thing. A shop for yogurt and dairy products, a shop for small appliances and electronics, a shop for meat, a shop for dry goods, a separate stand for fruits and one for vegetables. It can be frustrating sometimes but is invariably interesting. At least we can usually find everything we need with just a quarter mile walk from our house.

And a shop for flowers!

Jane with her favorite vegetable guy, the only one who doesn't try to cheat her

Darjeeling Day, 5

We saved our biggest adventure for our last day in D. Not on purpose, but because the hike I was hoping to take in Siliguiri National Park would be an all day event that would require nice or at least walkable weather, and that had been in short supply during our first two days in D. But on Sunday the weather forecast for Monday looked superb, and so we booked a one day trek to Silkguiri National Park.

Our guide--a fortyish Tibetan named Dowa-- met us at six in front of our house at six. The day looked promising, the sun was already risen in a cloudless sky. Our vehicle was one of the ubiquitous hummer type vehicles that clog the streets of D. We drove two hours over roads badly in need of repair to recharge our starting point, the tiny village of Dahur. We ate our breakfast of noodle soup and dumplings in a nondescript tow table, concrete floor hole in the wall and set out.

The first part of the hike was going to be the toughest, an eight kilometer (5 mile) hike with a 1000 meter (3000 feet) elevation gain. At our first stop, after about an hour, we could see the Himalyan mountains in the distance. It would, unfortunately, be our last glimpse of them today, as clouds rolled in and not only obscured our view of the mountains for the rest of the trip but would threaten rain and cause us to cut our hike short.

Along the trail, Jane starts to take notice of the chestnuts lying on the ground and soon accumulated quite a haul. At our next stop, she grabs a rock and starts smashing them open and sampling their contents. By noon we reach the summit—a small village called Tonglu—and we can barely see our hands in front of our faces. Thankfully, this is lunchtime. We are offered tea and a choice for lunch of either noodle soup or chow mein in an unheated hut.

After a half-hour we start our descent down a broken down wreck of a road that is a challenge for even the sturdiest of four wheel drives. Thankfully, it is not long before we leave it and our back over rolling hills. By the end we have covered nearly twenty kilomterers.

We had planned to out for a big last meal at a nearby fancy restaurant but are so exhausted we simply stay in bed and watch movies and order room service from the hotel

Start of the hike, sunny but cold

Resting

Lunch stop

One leg in Nepal and one in India (although I forgot which is which)

Not sure what this is, but it looks nice

O

Breakfast stop, very early

Darjeeling, Day 4: Lebong

At 5:30 we are greeted with a decidedly different site from our window: a glimpse of the sun. A blazing orange ball Rises briefly above th clouds befor disappearing into another layer. Soon the sun has transformed into a glowing white ball lighting up the distant mountains like a spotlight.A thick cover of clouds sit below us, but from our vantage point the sky is blue; however, things can change--clear view of the distant mountains can become obscured in an instant by a mist of clouds that appear out of nowhere.

The car-and-motorcycle free half mile path that runs from our hotel to the town square offers an unobstructed view of the distant Himalayas. Small stalls selling scarves and hats and trinkets are set up along the last couple of hundred yards. They are manned by hearty Tibetans who appear at seven in the morning to set up their makeshift spaces and stoically remain there until darkness descends. We stroll the path and enjoy this meteorological transformation.

After breakfast, we decide to take a walk and head to what the guidebook says is a nearby Buddhist monastery. It was supposed to be a simple walk: Five minutes from the central square,mine LP guidebook said, a book I generally speaking regard on such matters with canonical reverence. But I have noticed a tendency in India, a propensity for locals to greatly underestimate the amount of time it takes to reach a destination. This happened our first night in India, when the owner of the guesthouse at which we were staying informed us it was a 15 minute walk to a certain restaurant, and it turned to be a 15 minute cab ride. This has happened more than a couple of times since so I should not have been surprised that our 5 minute walk from the square became more like 25 minutes.

At the bottom we were greeted by an old man reminding us to take off our shoes. The only thing novel about the temple were the painted murals on the inside wall depicting the life of the Buddha. After our visit Jane decided she wanted to try to reach a village even further below. With no discernible path to get there she proceeded by stopping random locals and pointing to the collection of buildings she wished to visit. Ultimate,h she learned the name of the town--Lebong--and after an hour or so of descending we actually reached the place. Having reached our long sought after destination, we were in the position of the proverbial dog that caught the car it was chasing: what next? My main concern during our descent--that we would have to walk back up--was allayed when we saw a taxi. Relief turned to joy when I viewed a fruit stand. We had been unable to track down any fresh fruit so far in Darjeeling and so loaded up down here. With no particular reason to stay in Lebong, we grabbed a shared taxi after a stroll through the town. It was not cheap, but well worth the price of the adventure of exploring the area on our own.

Darjeeling Day 3--

 We awaken to our old friend, the rain. It has been raining pretty consistently since we arrived, and the forecast is for it to continue for a while longer. The rain has been heavy at times and responsible for numerous power outAges that have been occuring. We learn today that it has not rained for about six months here and they really needed it, especially for the tea for which this areA is famous--I hope the city is appreciative of the timing of my vacation.

It is a steady downpour to which we awake , one that has been going on all night. Today we have a two hour train ride planned on what is known as the toy train," small (2  car ) trains that run on an incredibly narrow gauge track. The classic journey runs essentially parallel to the drive we took yesterday but takes eight hour. We are taking the short two hour put and back portion of the journey that is popular with tourists. They run 17 of these trips every day.

The trip starts at 10. We had originally planned to walk to the station. We are not sure exactly where it is but it seems about a 20-30 minute walk on the map. We were also planning on having breakfast along the way, since the oil drenched omelet they served here yesterday appeals to neither of us. However the rain is causing us to rethink this strategy and consider just eating breakfast at the hotel and calling a cab. However, our fear of indigestion outweighs our fear of getting drenched, and we head out a 8, umbrella in hand.

On the way to the train station I stop and ask an Anglo looking white haired woman for directions, and it turns out that she is heading to the same train. We start to follow and it turns out she is in fact getting a ride there, so we hop on board greatful for our good fortune. I give the guy 200 rupees (about three dollars) for the lift.

We spot our train--a two coach affair, with 15 rows of 4 fitting precisely 60 passengers and filled to capacity. The coaches are pulled by a steam engine hooked to the front. We don't have a view seat it given the clouds that engulf us it really doesn't matter. Actually there was about a ten minute break at breakfast where you could begin to make out the outlines of the mountains, so we ma have to be content wth staring at those pictures for a while.

The train runs alongside traffic and next to houses, literally within inches of buildings in places and so is constantly emitting a shrill whistle.  We started twenty minutes late and after about ten minutes stop for no apparent reason. Another ten minutes and we are moving again, a slow, sometimes crawling uphill churn. We reach our destination, the aptly named Ghom, in about 45 minutes and are told there is a half hour break. There is really nothing to do in Ghom except go to the adjacent train museum which tells the history of the Darjeeling train. After ten minutes of this we head back to the glum Ghom station and drink 5 rupee (about ten cents) cups of tea.

End of the line

Dajeeling, Day 2

Old school way to press tea

Day 2 and still no view from our window except a white shroud of clouds. Tomorrow, says the woman at the desk. It will be clear tomorrow. In the morning we walk to the zoo and then to the Himalayan mountain center. At least it is good exercise. The plan is to find the Happy valley Tea company to get a tour and a tasting. We have to ask five or six times for directions and wind up having to trek down a long dirt road to the factory. It is still too early in the season so we are given a tour and explanation of an empty factory.it is not even a proper tasting. Instead five or six small bowls of tea are placed in front of us and we are invited to dip spoons into each to taste the difference between the first and second flush (harvests) of black and green tea, as well as the precious and expensive white tea. To top things off, a downpour erupts just as we finish. The fact that we have forgotten our umbrella hardly seems to matter since there is no way are going to climb up this muddy path in this downpour. So we call the hotel and order a taxi.  By the time we get back to the hotel it as almost two and we are starving, but we have to wait almost another hour since it seems every one at the hotel has ordered lunch at the same time. When the chow mien and egg fried rice finally arrive, we devour it in 5 minutes.

Darjeeling

We arrived in Darjeeling after a one hour flight from Kolkota and a 3 hour car ride on a narrow, winding road that climbed to a height of 7,000 feet. The change in altitude would mean a 30 plus degree drop in temperature, atransition from 95 degree  heat to daytime highs hovering around sixty. But what we lost in heat we gained in beautiful mountain scenery. Of course, for a while there was a question of whether we would make it in the first place-- between the treacherous mountain road and our crazy driver. But make it we did, and earlier than planned.

Our hotel is called Nirvana. It is a cosy, 10 room place with small but elegant rooms. We were lucky to have a room with a view of the mountains. Unfortunately, we were engulfed in clouds that promise to continue for the next several days.

Darjeeling is a series of winding, twisted lanes, most of which head either directly up or downhill. We set out to find one of the restaurants in the guide, a inexpensive Tibetan noodle place. The young woman at the front desk told us not to worry about a map and just to ask anyone where you want to go and they will tell you. This, it turned out, did not or so well, and I soon resorted to my map and we found the place--a tiny place really, about 5 or 6 tables that at most could fit 20 people. Jane stuck her head in, didn't see a seat and headed out. A few seconds later someone opened up the door and assured us there were two seats.

It was good to go inside because the presence of a full house combined with the nearness of the kitchen meant the place was warm. We ordered a couple of bowls of chicken soup and some pork dumplings.

In the hotel room, a great view when it's not cloudy

Jane tries street food in Darjeeling

Jane gets a good deal on a hat and scarf at the Tibetan market

At the Conference

It has been two days of going to talks and eating. A buffet breakfast is available until 9 a.m. Papers start at 9:30. The first session goes until 11:00. Then there is a 15 minute break, and another session. Each of the session has 4 or 5 papers,and concern the research that various of the scholars are dong throughout India.  There are 3 sessions running simultaneously and we are expected to go to one. Lunch, a break, And then two more afternoon sessions. A slightly longer break and then dinner. Lunch and dinner are mainly Indian food. Tomorrow we have the afternoon off, so I hope to actually get to see Kolkota tomorrow.

ITC hotel Kolkota (Calcutta)

We arrived after a 90 minute flight in Kolkata. This is a  conference for all the people in South Asia giving Fulbright. So for about three days will be listening to papers. I think there about 150 of us here. Fortunately they put us up in a five-star hotel and paid for all of our meals so how bad can it be. There were about 30 or so people from the conference on our flight.  We talked for a while with a couple from Idaho the guy was also teaching  and living in Delhi. About a half hour from the airport to the hotel. I have to moderate a session on Tuesday, but we are expected to attend all the sessions, which run from 9-5 Monday and guess and till nonn on Wednesday. Wednesday afternoon they will take us sightseeing. The temperature is supposed to be in the 90s, but we will be indoors, although Jane plans to spend Tuesday sightseeing with one of the participants from China

Concert

Tonight we were invited to a concert at the home of the head of Public Affairs for the American Embassy. We arrived about a half hour late due to the traffic, and the fact that the address we gave to Uber did not seem to match the actual address, so our cab driver drove up and down the street trying to find the right house. He was from Nepal and, unlike most Uber drivers, he could not stop talking, although I only understood about fifty percent of what he said. The house was magnificent, elegant. Waiters were carrying around trays of appetizers and glasses of beverages, including wine. There were maybe about 50 or so people, Fulbrighters, members of the USIEF, members of the American Embassy. The concert was piano and cello, including some songs from Gershwin. Afterwards, there was more food and drink. A good evening

Regular Life, Regular Bowel Movements

After our six day journey it is good to return to Delhi, not because it is less crowded or less polluted. But simply because it is familiar. My twice a week schedule still allows us to get out and explore the city, and this week we discovered the India Crafts Museum, or at least the gift shop of the museum, which is about as far as we got. They stock handicrafts and accessories from all over India, and as it is a government shop, there is thankfully no bargaining. I think we pretty much completed all of our gift shopping there. In addition we discovered a wonderful restaurant next door to the gift shop, where we will definitely return to again.

We also ventured out to the India Habitat Center, which hosts a variety of cultural events including music concerts and lectures--most for free. There we discovered a not-so-nice diner called the All-American Grill or something like that, which is made up to look like an old-fashioned American diner except that given that this is India there are no hamburgers and the food that remains on the menu bears only a physical resemblance to its American counterpart. I can vouch that the chocolate shake is little more than milk, chocolate and ice mixed together.

We alos went out to another movie. We were hoping to se La La Land, and even though it was listed on the theater website it was not playing there. Instead we saw Moonlight, the film that wont he best film award at the Oscars.

On the downside, we have been struggling with an ant infestation. But with Jane's tireless effort we seem to have things under control.

Day 4/5: Bodhgaya

Bodhgaya is the holiest spot in the Buddhist world, the place where the Buddha achieved enlightenment. The nearest comparison I can make is to St. Peter’s in Rome. Devotees from around the world flock to both places, exuding the same sort of crazy religious fervor. The shrine there is Mahabodhi Temple, which marks the spot where the Buddha attained enlightenment while seated under a Bodhi tree. In back of the temple is an actual Bodhi tree, not the original one which if legend is correct was killed a few hundred years after Buddha’s death. The latest incarnation of the Bodhi tree is only a couple of hundred years old, but supposedly the spot has been continuously marked for 2,500 years.

It is a five hour drive from Varnasi to Bodhgaya, which is grueling under any conditions and was especially so given the condition I found myself in the morning we were to leave. Miraculously it was my first case of diarrhea since coming to India. It is not surprising it happened in Varanasi. One gets diarrhea in Varanasi the way one gets wet in Seattle. I submit that Varanasi qualifies as the dirtiest city that people flock to and not flee from.

That morning I was uncertain I would survive the five hour ride to Bodhgaya.  It was probably the fact that I decided to start the antibiotic treatment that was responsible for me making it through. In retrospect, it was the most miserable car ride of my life. The only saving grace was that I slept through much of it, for Jane told me as bad as I felt being asleep for most of the trip, it was much worse being awake. It was like the tuk-tuks in Varanasi, only about five times as fast.

But we made it. Our hotel in Bodhgaya was a very simple affair, a two star place called the Sakura hotel run by a Japanese woman and her Indian husband. (see review below). It is definitely the barest bones place we have stayed in in all of our journeys, but except for the pillows was perfectly adequate. From our window we could view the sunrise.

It wasn’t until the next morning that we made it to Mahabodhi temple, following the hoards of devotees that flock to the temple, worship at the Buddha statue inside, and circumambulate the temple. We spend most of our time there with many others simply finding a place to sit under the Bodhi tree planted on that magical spot. It was amazing just to sit there and watch Buddhists from around the world circle around and around the temple.

Interlude: Ghats and tuk-tuks

One thing that is impossible to convey is the pure hell that constituted our forty minute tuk-tuk ride from the river to our hotel. The street is choked full of every kind of vehicle imaginable, and everyone is blowing their horn, constantly.  The vehicles operate according to Outback Steakhouse: “No rules, just rights,” as they swerve, cut off,  and pass each other in an endless frenzy. Traffic runs 4-5 abreast down lanes at most could fit two cars.  Between the noise and the exhaust fumes and the traffic joining the burning bodies along the shores of the Ganges sounds like a pretty good idea

A ghat is one of the passages/entrances to the river. There are about twenty of them along the mile or so stretch that is the most populated part of the Ganges. Along it you will encounter as wide a variety of humanity as you will anywhere: Religious devotees taking a dip, beggars, children, begging children, holy men, widows, goats, stray dogs, tourists, lots of tourists. Atop the ghats are temples of all shapes and forms, most of them dedicated to the god Shiva. There is even one famous spot along the river where bodies are burned.

Day 3: Varnasi

Only six miles from Varnassi is the city of Sarnath, which is the site where the Buddha gave his first sermon after achieving enlightenment. Even if nothing of world significance had happened at this site one might venture from Varnassi to this site just to gain a measure of peace.

The site of Buddha’s first speech is a large park cordoned off from the surrounding city. There are several ruins on the site, partially excavated temples and such. But everyone heads straight to the stupa, the giant stone tower-like structure built to honor the spot where the Buddha supposedly gave his first speech. Devotees circumambulate the structure or sit in meditation.

Although we wanted to drive up in a car, the hotel said they had no cars left and so we were forced to take a tuk-tuk there. Surprisingly there are no guides, as exist at almost every other site in India, to hit you up before you walk into the site. Also, no one really bothers you while you are there except for a few random young men selling postcards or small statues. One came up to Jane, opened his shirt and flashed a statue and said, “Buy the Buddha?”

Jane and I sat on a shaded bench near a spot where group of about twenty French tourists were sitting in a circle listening to a man discourse on something or other. I went up to go to the bathroom and immediately after I left a golden-robed monk, head-shaved, approached Jane and asked for a donation to some charity he was running.

We spent two hours sitting peacefully in the park and could have easily have spent more time if we hadn’t booked the tuk-tuk for three hours and wanted to get to the museum

What was in the museum escapes me. What I do remember is that we spent more time in the gift shop before heading back to the craziness of Varansi.