Manali to Leh

It's the afternoon, the day after the journey, and I'm still recovering in a very relaxing (150 rupee) guest house room. I can see snow capped mountains out my window; a gentle green garden progressing into trees creates the foreground. There is a soft and sporatic drum beat in the viscinity, and a few local radios entertaining the workers outside. I feel lazy, but triumphant to be here, to be acclimatizing, and I am content with where I am and where I am going.

Descriptive fragments from the journey: a bruised left shoulder from constantly banging into the rear window latch, the latchless front window gradually sliding its way back and cracking open as we climbed, letting in the cold, thin air, moving in a new direction with each bump, blowing out a tire on a hot and dry desert road, early morning goat and sheep herders seen near the blowing prayer flags, bridges that had to be trusted but didn't look worthy of it, driving into the cloud on the Rhotang Pass (3980m), seeing one truck with a front, driverside wheel hanging over the abyss and resting on its axle, in all, the remains of 6 trucks (not buses) below that didn't make their turns, at times being thrown a foot into the air from the bus' back seat, the six foot diameter hole in the road which gave view down the slope, the six hour delay because of a landslide, potentially switching buses by running straight up and across the switchbacks, climbing on a new bus, and then finally the old bus coming up to pick us up, a local dormitory bed in Keylong for 30 rupees, people shouting and smoking in the middle of the night, 4 hours of restless sleep, 2nd 4am morning, arriving in Leh at 9pm in the dark through winding passes, anti-claustrophobic plateau before last 5300m pass, mental adrenaline from the intense landscape, introspection, articulation, joy, weariness, headache, endurance, glad i reserved a front seat, meals at bedouin-style tent villages, morning light on the grey rivers, Cappadocian rocks, Grand Canyon colors, Sinai, Negev, spirituality and landscape becoming one and approaching a Tibetan experience.

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It really was quite an adventure, this Manali-Leh road. Described by some as one of the most spectacular and intense overland journeys in the world, this route covers 400+km in two days, transporting its passengers from the green gateway of the Himalayas at Manali to Ladakh, a high altitude desert region that is rugged and breathtaking. The trip included one of the world's highest motorable mountain passes at 5325m (17470ft), the highest elevation that I have experienced in my life. It wasn't until I woke up in the next morning that I realized that I was really in another world. It didn't feel like India, but what people have been telling me is more similar to Tibet and other parts of central Asia.

Most of my time in Leh has consisted in getting a glimpse of the Tibetan culture here, reading and writing a lot, and getting to know other travelers. On the northwest end of town is the Shanti Stupa, a Buddhist temple high on a hill that is magical at sunrise and sunset. Twice I have made the climb up 560 stairs to have this experience, and my breathlessness has been justly rewarded.

In all except for the beautiful Manali-Leh bus journey, most of my time has been very relaxed. It seems like India doesn't allow her travelers to speed through the land, and I have enjoyed taking this pace. Tomorrow I'm going to take another two day bus to Srinagar in Kashmir, near the Pakistani border. It's already been one month since I arrived in India, and in one more I'll be beginning Nepal.

[Be sure to check the photo gallery]

Border Road Organization's Caution Signs along the Manali-Leh route:
- If you're married, divorce speed.
- Be Mr. Late, not Late Mr.
- Safety on the Road means "Safe Tea" at home
- Life is a Journey. Complete It.
- Heaven, Hell or Mother Nature. The Choice is Yours.

Some of the Books I've Read on this Trip:

- Herman Hesse, Siddhartha
- Carlo Carretto, Letters from the Desert
- Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude
- Annie Dillard, Mornings Like These
- Kahlil Gibran, An Anthology
- Dan Brown, Deception Point
- Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books
- Robert Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
- Thomas Merton, The Asian Journals of...
- The Gandhi Reader, edited by Homer A. Jack
- The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho
- Yann Martel, Life of Pi
- Andrew Pollard, The High Altitude Medicine Handbook
- Gita Mehta, A River Sutra

Starting Again in India

Let me fill you in on the last couple of weeks here in India with some excerpts from my journals...

New Delhi: Arrivals and Impressions

Upon arrival in New Delhi, the humid air hit me like a blanket and the poverty on the streets immediately informed that I was in a third world country. India is the 37th country of our round-the-world journey, and even though you would think that the shocks of travel may have grown numb, this country brings those feelings to an entirely new level. My first goal was to crash at a hostel in Paharganj, and then to spend a few days getting accustomed to the somewhat overwhelming atmosphere of the city.

In total, I spent a little over a week in India's capitol city, filling the time with some sightseeing, eating lots of wonderful (and cheap) Indian food and talking with other travelers (mainly Israelis) in order to gather advice on where I should focus my energy. It was also a pleasant surprise to run into Josh Kautz, a friend from EMU who was just finishing up a month of medical volunteering in Uttaranchal. Together, we spent a day visiting some museums, parks and the Bahai Temple. Josh almost changed his ticket at the last minute to travel with us for a couple of weeks, but was unable to do so with such little notice.

Some of the mental images from Delhi include...the constant and persistent horns on the street below our room, the monkeys in the trees of our roof top restaurant which almost jumped on me as I was eating breakfast, the dead homeless man on the street swarmed by flies as two women and a police officer observed nearby, the presence and lingering smell of cow dung everywhere, incense attempting to mask it (and keep away the flies), children begging for food and hanging onto your clothes as you walk by, and the general frantic atmosphere trying to find order but never quite making it. I think that being in India teaches people how to be patient, to wait and understand that what others do is entirely out of your control. It teaches you to trust in a sort of empty and self-less flow of life as you try to make sense of it all but keep moving yourself.

Losing Some, Gaining Some

After the bike trip, I decided to lighten my pack considerably for the rest of the trip in an attempt to travel with more simplicity and versatility. In fact, I sent my large, old pack home altogether, keeping only minimal clothing and necessary items, losing all of the camping gear except what I will need to do some trekking in Nepal. And with the smaller pack that I have acquired here containing a lighter load, I decided to buy a guitar, an Indian-made "Givson" for quite a good price (note the "v"). Traveling with a guitar will have its share of challenges as well, but already it seems to have been worth the hassle.

Where to go...?

The combination of my personal research, conversations with other travelers, and general interest has led me to decide to travel to the northern regions of India during the 2-3 months that I will be here. The heat of Delhi was almost overwhelming to the point where it was difficult to relax and sleep, and I could only imagine that the south would be worse. A retreat into the mountains seems to be what I am looking for and needing: some space and unrushed time to unwind and explore one of the most fascinating regions of the world in its best season.

Eric and Meike had interest in traveling throughout other parts of southern India, but also wanted a taste of the north as well. We decided to travel together up the Ganges River into the mountains to visit the Valley of Flowers, a world heritage site that is at it's peak bloom during this time of year. After returning from this short excursion into the mountains, we would head our separate ways.

Haridwar and Rishikesh:

Our trip up the river took us through two holy cities, Haridwar and Rishikesh, each lying along the banks of the Ganges. One night in Rishikesh, we walked down the hill in the late afternoon to the town on the river, absorbing the atmosphere of the religious ceremonies taking place. There were many people down on the water lighting candles wrapped in flowers and sending them floating downstream. A lot of Indians wanted us to take their photos and then show them the image on the digital screen.

The whole place here [Rishikesh] has this magical feel to it, the dusk light on the dirty river makes it look cleaner than I have seen it before. There is a walking bridge stretching across the river, which sways a little under the moving weight of loads of people and motorcycles. Many people are dressed in orange, pilgrims for their faith, the presence of Shiva and the other gods, as well as Ashrams, Hindu temples, all the works. I think it will only get better as we head upstream.

The Bus Journey:

[On looking back on the day of busing the Himalayan foothills...]

I bet the mudslides will be everywhere tomorrow morning.

We had to stop the bus for maybe an hour today while a bulldozer plowed away the rocks and mud that had fallen from above. There were occasional blasts of dynamite to break up the larger rocks. With the first blast, all of the locals put their hands on their heads as smaller rocks became dislodged and bounced down onto the sides of the bus. Across the gorge were a few small rock slides that started from the sound of the blast. It seems like this has happened a lot here, as there are big chunks of the road missing and relocated farther down the cliffs. I really think these were the most sketchy roads of the trip so far. It felt like they could crumble and fall away.

Twelve hours later, we safely arrived in the cliff side town of Joshimath, only one bus connection away from the beginning of our trek into the mountains.

Stranded in Joshimath:

We spent a night in Joshimath, and after waking up the next morning to a steady rain, learned that the road ahead of us was closed for the day and maybe tomorrow it would be passable. We decided to spend the day in town, which was really our only option besides trying to walk the 20km to the next town of Govindghat, as some of our Israeli friends ended up doing.

That afternoon, I wanted to go for a walk down into the gorge and maybe across the river and Eric said he would come along. It took us about an hour to get down and then crossed a bridge that was visibly sagging at its middle joint. We waited there for a while near the hydroelectric plant, and then started to walk back up the hill when two guys, one a policeman, caught our attention and told us to come over. We sat down with them and they brought us some chai (tea) and we talked for a little while.

The policeman arranged a free ride back up to the town for us in the cabin of this big dump truck, which was crammed with people and smelled like BO, but took us right up the mountain. It was really a sweet ride around all of those hairpin curves, and definitely a lot less energy than going by foot.

The next morning brought better weather and an open road to Govindghat, where our trek would begin.

Trekking with the Pilgrims:

The trek was 13km up a river valley, on a well worn stone path full of very happy Sikh pilgrims. Each of them must have been having the best day of their lives and many stopped to talk or take a photo of us. It was really exciting to have a smaller pack, containing only what I thought were the basics, but yet many of the pilgrims were carrying almost nothing, and some even walking without shoes. They were so friendly to us, even though the constant photo shoots started to get annoying after a while...

After a good day's walk, we arrived in Ghangria (around 10,000 feet elevation), a small mountain village existing only during the summer to serve tourists to the Valley of Flowers and Sikh pilgrims making the trek to Hemkund Sahib. At this town, the trail splits for these two destinations.

From Ghangria, it took us about two hours to get up to the Valley of Flowers, following a nice river with remaining winter ice at various places. The valley opened up for about 8km, surrounded in mountains reaching up to the deep blue sky with occasional clouds resting upon the ridges. The valley has an estimated 500 species of flowers, each unique and beautiful in its own way.

Our destination that we had worked toward for the last five days was finally reached... It was peaceful and serene, a place that felt like I could just rest and be. The sun felt great and we spent a lot of time just sitting there and absorbing the beauty of the valley. I also took about 50 photos, a lot of both the flowers and the mountains around us.

Climbing Hemkund:

The next day I decided to make the trip up to the Sikh pilgrimage site, Hemkund Saheb, where a temple is located on a lake high in the mountains.

I woke up at 6am an the skies were clear and I felt pretty good, better than I had for a few days, so I decided to go for the Hemkund Saheb hike... After I found out that Eric was a little better and wanted to stay for another day, I packed up in minutes and headed out, first for some breakfast and then up the winding trail.

It was a steep trail, 6km to the top, rising about 4000ft to an elevation of 14,202ft. I started pretty fast and then slowed down when I met Sunny, a 17 year old guy with a lot of energy and his hair tied up in a ball on the front of his head. We got to talking and I decided to continue at his pace. I was a little worried about such a quick accent, but overall was pretty happy with how I did in the altitude... My lungs felt as good up there as they did in Ghangria. At one point the winded Sunny said that I was like British Air, I kept going up and up and up.

It took maybe 2.5 to 3 hours to reach the summit, walking with pilgrims and mules and a diversity of colorful people. I think a woman asked me to marry her daughter at one point along the route. The sky was almost entirely blue and clear the whole way up, giving incredible views of the snow studded Himalayas and the green flowing out of them.

At the top there was a Sikh temple and people were bathing in the ice cold lake (something I decided against with my cold). I was the only non-Indian present, and therefore the subject of many photographs to show the family. It really felt like I was in a different world, with the high mountain setting, the orange colors of the dress and Punjabi flags, and all the rest that was really somewhat indescribable.

Sunny took me into the temple for a religious prayer time at 10am which lasted about a half hour and reminded me a lot of a Muslim service (Sikhism is an interesting combination of Hinduism and Islam). At one point everyone was served an oily, sweet dough and I decided to partake, even if it make me sick (it didn't). After the service, we all went over to another building where two old bearded men were cooking huge vats of chai and Dal soup, which was very satisfying as I was hungry from the steep hike up.

Sunny kept hanging around me and I really wanted some space, so I went up on one of the hills and rested for a while. Afterwords, I went down the other path for mules (the one I went up ended in a set of 1185 stairs over the last km) and again rested for maybe a half hour, just looking out into the mountains. The steep hike down went well, and I was amazed how far I had climbed up. Usually it seems like coming back goes faster, but for some reason this time it felt longer.

The next day we hiked down to Govindghat, and took a Jeep taxi back to Joshimath, spending a night there and then taking another day-long bus through the half washed out mountain roads back to Rishikesh, where we are now.

Tomorrow, Eric and Meike will leave for Rajasthan and I will perhaps spend a day or two more relaxing in Riskikesh before getting a bus north to either Dharamsala or Manali before heading up to Leh in the northernmost part of India. My plan is to be home by Christmas, after spending the next 4 months mainly in India and Nepal, and hopefully also Thailand and Cambodia.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that we visited the Taj Mahal... there are some photos on the site of it...

The Waiting Game

Patience is not easily learned. Our lives are such that we can often get whatever we want, whenever we want... We use expedited shipping, instant coffe, express checkout, and fast-acting medications. With the right amount of money, practically anything can be ours. Our affluency gets us what we want, and as a consequence we rarely have to wait around for anything. But the moment will enevitably arrive when control is lost, and the only option is to sit down, take a deep breath, and exhibit a bit of patience. That's when the going gets tough. And fortunately that's when we learn.

This has been a personal theme of the past few weeks. But before diving into the details of my lesson in "patience building," perhaps I'll do a quick overview of what has happened in the previous month since my last email update. After all, it wouldn't be fair to keep you waiting...

Following an enjoyable few days of exploring Prague, I took a train to the border of Germany and finished the bicycle trip under ideal conditions. Most of these final five days were spent riding along the banks of the Main River, through wooded forests and countryside. Germany is an ideal place for bike touring, as there are countless established bike routes that zigzag around the country. I finished my route in the college town of Giessen, just north of Frankfurt, and spent an evening with Oleg Dik and his wife Lisa, who help to run a coffee shop ministry for immigrants in the area. Their names were given to me by Josef Berthold while we were in the Middle East, and it was a real blessing to connect with them for an evening. Not only was I inspired by their vision, but was reminded again of the opportunities that exist for reaching out to people of all backgrounds even in our home communities.

The following morning I took a double-decker train down to the Frankfurt airport to meet my friend Wayne Groff. The two of us have basically grown up together, attending the same elementary and high schools, and hanging out regularly on our breaks from college. He decided to take a few weeks of vacation and join me in Germany, which worked out great for both of us. It was refreshing to hang out with someone who knew me well, and have a chance to catch up on the past few months. Being around someone from home, it also sparked my own thinking into ways that I have changed on this trip, and what the transition back to life in the States may be like. Although the best part of having traveling with Wayne was simply hanging out, we also managed to get a decent tour of Germany in the process.

Starting in Frankfurt, we spent a night in the nearby city of Mainz, where we plotted out our schedule and relaxed a bit from the busyness of the last few days. On our way south, we visited the picturesque mideival town of Rothenburg Ob Der Tauber, and then continued to Heidelberg and Tubingen. In Tubingen we visited Meike Keller, a friend of mine who was on a YES team with me to Brazil several years ago. She found Wayne and I a place to stay in her university dorm, and in the evening we went out for a boat ride on the Nekar River with some of her friends. It was fun to be in a laid-back college atmosphere again, staying up late talking and meeting new people. Visiting Meike also provided the opportunity for us to talk about our travel plans, as she is just beginning an around-the-world trip and is currently traveling with us here in India.

From Tubingen, Wayne and I spent a few days in the Black Forest, doing some hiking, visiting a glass-blowing factory, and spending a day at an amusement park. From there, we headed down to the Austrian border, and the small town of Fussen. This area has some of Germany's most well-preserved castles, and so we spent a day touring the two famous castles of Ludwig II, Hohenschwangau and Neuschwanstein. If you have seen any pictures of castles in the Bavarian Alps of Germany, chances are that you have seen one of these.

Our final week was spent in the vastly different cities of Munich and Berlin. Munich, the cultural capital of Bavaria, was as usual flooded with tourists from all over. We spent several days in Munich, visiting the Deutches Museum, the concentration camp at Dachau, checking out the Englischer Garden, and of course enduring a performance of the Glockenspiel on the wall of the New Town Hall. From Munich, it was a long drive north to Berlin. But fortunately it was autobahn all the way, and you know what that means...

Just outside of Berlin Wayne and I decided to spend the night at the small town of Wittenberg. As the birthplace of the reformation, the town is full of trinkets and statues of Martin Luther. Shortly after we arrived, we noticed a sign that mentioned an English worship service in the church where Luther preached for many years. Since English church services have been hard to find in our travels, it seemed like we should take advantage of the opportunity. A preacher from Ohio was there, and using the Parable of the Weeds (Matthew 13:24-30), he talked about the importance of learning to wait. A pertinent message for me to hear, given the events of the coming days.

Following a few days exploring the city of Berlin, Dave, Wayne, and I made the drive back to Giessen. The following morning, Dave and I flew out and arrived in Istanbul. We had arranged this stopover when we bought our tickets to India, as it was included for the same price with Turkish Airlines. Because of our whirlwind tour of Germany, I still hadn't received my Indian VISA, which is required prior to entry. It is sort of a complicated story, but it takes several days longer to process the application than the Indian web site seemed to imply, and my only remaining option was to apply for it in Istanbul. Upon arriving in Turkey, I hurried to the consulate the following morning, and put in my application. Unfortunately, there was no way to speed up the process, and I was told that it would be at least 5 days until I could receive my VISA. Our flight to India left on Monday evening; the VISA wouldn't be available until Tues. afternoon. At this point the situation was out of my control, and I simply had to wait. My disappointment was somewhat curbed, however, by the fact that because of the circumstances, Turkish Airlines allowed me to change my flight at no extra cost.

Istanbul wasn't a terrible place to be stuck for three extra days. As the crossroads between continents, there is a fascinating mix of East and West, both coming together in Europe's largest city. I enjoyed wandering around, sampling cheap kebab meals, and meeting other travelers from our hostel. On Monday evening Dave flew as scheduled, and over the next couple days I took a tour of the Bosphorous Strait with two other backpackers, and did quite a bit of reading. Although my heart in some ways had already moved ahead to India, I managed to make the best of the circumstances. Finally on Thursday evening, with the VISA in my passport, I boarded a crowded plane and arrived in Delhi in the early morning hours.

The waiting was finally over... I had arrived in India. But this experience demonstrated to me that I am still waiting for a lot of things. As the last four months of this trip approach, the temptation is to start making judgements and creating expectations about what it will be like to return home. In my mind, I want to start picking out the good and the bad about this experience, my home culture, my faith, etc. The temptation is to start drawing conclusions now. But as the pastor at Wittenberg so eloquently described, there are times when we are called to wait. Instead of pulling out the weeds while the wheat is still growing, sometimes we have to wait until the harvest. As time goes on, a better eye will be developed... one that can better distinguish between what should be kept, and what to let go of. Until then, I just have to be patient.