Apparently following their time in Goa (while I was in Jalgaon), the girls went south to Varkala, as well. We hung out on the beach and swam in the ocean before meeting up with other tourists, European and Australian. Rob, an aussy, was especially social and with his help our group grew from 6 to over 20 as we had a few drinks and food. After a while we purchased some more beers (restaurants weren’t licensed but they still sold it “secretly” (i.e.: bottles were to be kept under the table, and adorable mugs were given instead of beer glasses), and all headed down the beach for night swimming and hanging out. Though the girls needed to head out to catch their plane to Thailand, but I ended up staying there for nearly a week. Every day, after sleeping until 10-11 I’d head out to grab a latte and read, often meeting more new tourists to integrate into out giant group of lovely people. Following my “morning” coffee and breakfast, I went beachward and read and body surfed. Lasse, Rob, Ronan, Jean-Rocke, etc. would join me in the afternoons and at around 7 we came in and chatted a bit before heading to our respective showers and meeting up for coffee, and then dinner with the masses. Restaurants began offering us deals (realizing our influence – “we” consisting of the majority of tourists in the town). We stayed out past 5 several nights meeting newcomers and bidding farewell to those who intended on leaving teh next day. It was one of the most enjoyable weeks of my life, but I knew I needed to move on.

A couple german sisters, Ronni and Maddy, a girl from holland (Sanne), a girl from the netherlands (Arinde), a girl from norway (Yngbil), the aussy, Rob, a guy from Norway, Lasse, and I decided to go to Alleppey, a bit north, to rent a 24hr. houseboat (for about 12$ each), complete with a staff, cooks, and 3 delicious boat-cooked meals. We didn’t sleep much, but had a very pleasant afternoon adn evening, and the next day found ourselves on the back of an onion truck, hitchhiking to the train station. Sanne, Rob, Yngbil, Ronni, and Maddy were headed to Fort Cochin, up a bit more north, while Lasse had to catch a flight home. Next we lost Yngbil, Arinde, and the German sisters in Fort Cochin, while Rob, Sanne, and I went to Bangalore. Rob had two friends living there in a lovely apartment, who were sweet enough to offer to put us up. They wouldn’t even let us buy them dinner! We hung out and saw a bit of the town, and even ran into a “naked guru,” together. We were walking one night, on our way to dinner, when we saw a ceremony of some sort, which I presumed was a wedding, happening on a large-lawned area. Being the curious tourists we were, we faced it as we passed, and a man said, “come!” to us. Embarassed for our nosiness, we said, “no, no, sorry, we were just passing by.” Others noticed us, and insisted we come inside the gated ceremony grounds and we were reluctantly ushered up to an alter/gezeebo thing where sat a middle-aged naked man surrounded by about 15 standing assistant-like people. on teh lawn, infront of him, sat about 200-250 people on blankets, staring at us in curiosity. One of the helpers insisted we sit in a semi-circle infront of the Guru, on his alter, and a translator began to translate the naked guru’s background and religion (as you may have guessed, he was a Sudha of Jainism). He claimed he had never used soap to bathe since age 8, nor had he been in any type of vehicle since this time, preferring to walk. As a Jainist, he refused to kill animals, insects, and even bacteria (hence not using soap). It crossed my mind that soap doesn’t kill bacteria (unless it’s anti-bacterial) but just sticks to it and then gets washed off with them, but i decided it might not be polite to inform a deity of earthly facts on his idol. Interestingly, he also never cut his head or beard hair, but once every 3 months would pluck every hair out, one by one (he said as he pulled off a chest hair.

He was very sweet and kind, as were all his fellows. We were asked whether we smoked, drank, and/or ate meat. To most of these, most of us had to answer yes. We then did agree, as requested, to refrain at least once a week from all three activities. Our promise was announced by microphone to the crowd who cheered happily and the presumed lives to be saved, including our own, perhaps, through less intoxication. We were then asked to each speak to the crowd, which some of us were quite nervous to do… I actually was okay with it, considering they probably wouldn’t understand me, and seemed to be a receptive crowd, so I spoke of what I admired of their religion, and of the kindness they had shown us. We were later told that there is some story in one of the vedas of 5 outsides entering a gathering and bringing good fortune on those within… We were given necklaces and asked to stay for dinner, after a large dance party. it was very cute, and I must admit I was was glad the naked guru didn’t dance much, especially with all those children present… Anyway, it was wonderful, and we met some very kind people.

Sanne and I bid Rob farewell, as we headed for Hampi

-Chris

The next day we left all but a few shirts, pack of cards, towel, etc, at the front desk and ventured off by bus and then Jeep to the start of the trek, near the end of which a man had to walk infront of the jeep to move large rocks and fill especially large holes in the road so the jeep could make it through. He, and several others often needed to get out and help push the jeep as it forded rivers. Amusingly, the jeep was so stuffed with people for that hour, or so, that the driver was littlerally hitting a man’s arms who jumped on the side of the jeep and was clutching to the window frame, screaming for him to let go (he didn’t). We arrived and payed the Non-Nepalese charge (100, rather than 10rps.) and were off to hike upwards on our own. It is actually refreshing that they tell you they are charging you more for not looking asian in Nepal… in India they just charge you 200+% the price and pretend they charge everyone it.

Anyway perhaps due to unfortunately-intact male egos/ competitive spirits, etc., we hiked and climbed at a staggering pace, completing the circuit (~210km) in just 9 days (instead of the 20+ it’s estimated to take). Some days we hiked uphill for over 34km(21mi.). In the first couple days only three leeches had bitten me (in John’s case quite a few more), and I had only injured myself a couple times ( I tripped in the dark during a power-outage while running out of the rain the first night, cutting my right arm, and fell on a rock face the following day, cutting my left.

Trails were often flooded or blocked due to landsides, this being the monsoon season, but luckily that meant nearly no tourists for the entire trek. Only three times or so did we meet other obvious trekkers. We managed to argue every lodging to 50nrps per person (~$.66) but the food proved very pricey, and our appetites large, so we ended up spending nearly $10U.S. a day.

When possible, we would dry our wet clothing (from sweat and sometimes rain) over the fire of the small kitchens of out current tea house, once placing it amongst drying yak meat. Other mornings we’d need to wear our clothing wet, letting our body heat dry it as we travelled.

On the day of the Thorough Long Pass (our highest point of travel, about 5,500 meters, the trail was steep, and air quite thin (~ half what it is at sea-level). By this time, we all had headaches and I some minor dizziness, so we were in a hurry to get back down, hiking nearly 12 hours, at a brisk pace, with very few breaks that day. Unfortunately, on this day I hurt my left knee, and then the left ankle a day or two after, but they are almost better now. Marijuana plants grew by the thousands in the wild, among the deciduous trees up to 3000m or so, which gave way to conifers followed by baren land.

Small towns, once entirely independent farming communities, now seem largely reliant on the tourist industry. We passed many donkeys and men carrying massive packs of food to the towns, and the many small, wooden tea houses were eager for our stays. Some found additional ways of extracting money, other than prices which grew exponentially as we rose into the clouds, charging for utilities, etc., but I saved by filling my bottles from glacial streams and wiring my camera charger in parallel with lights already provided, rather than spend a dollar an hour to charge it.

We observed a few Maoist strongholds, and signs declaring Maoist independence, despite the supposed ending of the war a couple years ago. Communist flags and in Kathmandu protests were common, but no tourist has yet been targetted, and so we didnt find it necessary to be concerned as much as interested.

In the little town of Marpha, “the apple capital of Nepal,” we bought a giant bottle of apple brandy for 150nprs ($2 US), under the guidance from Lonely Planet that it was safe, and were off to the hot springs of Tatopani, where we grabbed a beer each, to celebrate nearing the end of our trek and sat in the spring with our large beers to begin socializing with the other water dwellers. This is where I met Heidi and Nonnie, Americans who’d spent the last year teaching in Taiwan, who’d decided to visit Nepal on their way up to China. After a couple hours, they decided to stay at the same lodging as we, and we settled in to dinner and card games together with ample apple brandy. During this night, I learned of their plans to travel back to Pokhara (my visa was about to expire), while Dave and John were considering travelling to the Annapurna basecamp. I therefore told John and Dave I’d meet them back in Pohkara, and ventured with Nonnie, Heidi, and their porter, Beeru, onward, and a day later boarded a but with them to Pohkara. (continued later)

I love and miss you all so much!
I’ll try to post more regularly again!

-Chris

all my love guys,

-Chris

At the bus stop, I checked bus times and bought a water for 4 times the price I should have paid, as it turns out, and I sat near a group of 15-20 men gambling on a dice game that appeared reminiscent of craps, and pulled out a book. I was soon approached by a few lads in their early twenties, seemingly eager to try out their English. We talked for 40 minutes or so before I met a Nepalese English teacher on his way to Kathmandu. He helped me get a reasonable rate for my bus ticket and we talked for a good while while I began waiting the 3 hours until the next bus departed. A bus had been scheduled to leave in just an hour, but a rock slide had reportedly resulted in the demise of it and its passengers. There was a 3 hour longer route that could be taken, “the old road” to pokhara, which I agreed to. I spoke a bit longer with my new Nepalese friend, and was invited to stay at his home and receive free food for a few days in Kathmandu, in exchange for speaking to the English class he taught. Though I’d planned on spending a couple days in Pohkara followed by a couple in Kathmandu, with this gentleman, my plans soon changed, as usual here. I was approached by a European guy named John, who had recently quit his accounting job to find “something new.” he was in Nepal with his friend Dave, who had also quit his job as a private contractor for military bunkers (a civil engineer), and was travelling with his friend for a few months, passing through the “cheap” asian countries (Thailand, Taiwan, India, Nepal, etc.). They were also off to Pohkara, and were on the next train with me. We talked for the last hour or two before boarding the bus, and we decided to sit together, though due to the lack of leg space this became impossible. The 12 hour journey was, as usual, extremely hot, sweaty, and smelly. I often had my clothing fully saturated with sweat, my shirt and shorts dripping on the ground and seat, I drank many liters of water for fear of dehydration, and all that… At one time, it was amusing, I had a woman leaning on my left side, and a man leaning on my right. After about 30 minutes, the lady leaned on the person on her left, and I took the opportunity to benefit from this seeming custom of no person space, and leaned to my left, gently on her. She freaked out and yelled at me, and I 1/3 amused, 1/3 confused, and 1/3 annoyed, appologized. At some stops Jon, who was having especially visible trouble with the heat, feeling dizzy etc., would crawl out and lie on the dirt parking lot ground, admist discarded food and spittle from chewing tobacco. We arrived in Pohkara at about 3am, alive and well, having bonded through comiseration, and argued for a taxi to “Lakeside,” where they suggested we head for a cheap hotel. My obnoxious bargaining skills I’d obtained in India soon brought a circle of 5 or so cab drivers between which I started a bidding war, and we ended up with a prcie of 100 nepalese rupees (~$1.2) instead of the initial 350nrps they were all pushing. Amusingly, upon reaching Lakeside, the cabbie demanded 150, which some of the other cabbies had agreed upon. We, of course, said, “no,” “you agreed on 100.” He explained he had only said 100 to beat the other guys and get us to go with him. To this we naturally expressed our shocked bemusement and gave him a short lecture on business ethics, before giving him his 100nrps and hitting hotels. We had to try 4 or so, but eventually found an inexpensive place, and slept for a bit, before rising to grab breakfast and visit the Mountaineering Museum, nearby. It was actually a lot of fun, and we spent 3 hours in the giant complex, we being the only visitors. We next rented a boat, reminiscent of a giant canoe, on Pohkara lake, and visitted a small island temple. That night, we had a wonderful dinner with cocktails to celebrate our new friendship, and after a couple bars it was proposed that we visit “club nassau,” an “exotic bar.” I supressed my minor discomfort, not really being the “exotic bar” type, but having never been to such as establishment agreed on the premise of “novel is good.” I was quite amused to find that in Nepal, far more scandalously than in India, but still rather tame by American standards, an “exotic bar,” consisted of women in mini skirts and t-shirts dancing with men in see-through mesh shirts. We sat laughing and observing the far more drunken party infront of us for an hour or two and went to bed.

(continued later)

ºuº -Christophero

First, I shall mention the past couple days… In Agra, upon getting an “emergency ticket” to Varanasi (train was “full” so for twice the price (~$11) I got a ticket that was set aside by a corrupt ticket counter-man to sell at an upped price to same-day travellers. After buying it, I began to feel quite sick again, but the power it the city was almost never on, I continued to have a 101+ fever and it was 95 degrees at night time. The city, unfortunately, aslo smelled of sulfur and being a tourist city was rife with harassment. (those are just the bad things that motivated me to leave while ill, there were many nice things too). I boarded my train at 11:30, after talking with 4 french travellers for a couple hours and 13 hours later arrived in Veranasi. To avoid the walk through the city and have my own bathroom I agreed to a hotel, “the Arti Palace”, a bit south down the Ganges from the one I had previously decided on and was pleased to find cool marble floors and a generally clean room for the 150rps. (I still am rocking the no A/C, because when electricity is on, the fan is sufficient, and when it isn’t there’s no A/C either…) I decided to grab a loaf of bread at “the Bread of Life Bakery” which my guidebook said was close and “clean,” but found it was a restaurant, not really a bakery, and upon getting there made the brilliant decision to get a chicken burger. My stomach cramps were still persistent, so I held off on carbonation, and grabbed a lemonade like drink, immediately regretting it upon remembering how sweet all sugarred drinks are here (all i’ve found anyway, coffee, tea, indian sodas such as Limca, “orange juice,” and apparently lemonade). I have a sweet tooth but bleh. Anyway, I made friends with two guys who had individually travelled here from Holland, as we joked about all 3 of our rickshaw drivers insisted we go to the yogi palace, as all other hotels had coincidentally burned down, closed, been threatened by terrorists, etc. Taking the opportunity to have a social outlet, I agreed to walk down the “Ghats,” (the main thing to see here, consisting of a numbers of sets of stairs leading to the Ganges river.) Two of the 23 or so sets of stairs are used exclusively for cremation, one of which, the Harish Chandra Ghat, being the one my hotel is at. Giant piles of wood sit at the top of the stairs, while ~60 bodies are burned at each Ghat a day. There are always about 7 fires with bodies burning for 3 hours each at each Ghat. Smoke fills the air while families gather around, some tourists stand a bit removed, whilst men try to get them to go close so they can pressure them into paying large fees for the 300kg or so of wood used for each body. Even passing by from a good distance my holland friends and I were aggressively pressured, one of them giving 100 rps (the man demanded 2000 from each of us), after saying, “don’t worry, I no want money, approaching us.” It was actually pretty funny, as he said, “don’t worry, i no want money” and without pause, “you give 2000 roopies to help pay for wood.” Personally I found it odd to expect likely non-hindus and obvious non-relatives to pay for trees to be cut down by the masses to burn other people’s family members… Especilly with such aggression, but I suppose that is because little, if any of the money goes towards wood moving by train then water, while much if not all goes to the scammer angrily chasing us. Agra and Varanasi are reportedly the most touristy and therefore harassing of the cities, but it can all be taken in good humor. Every few steps white people are approached, “hello my brother, you want boat?” (they charge 450-700rps but can be talked down to 100). Upon saying no, good number (4 on this particular walk) then whisper, bud? you want the marijuana man? you want drugs?” Further, adorably, a little (~6-7yr.) boy approached the taller or the two guys from holland, and said “hello tall man,” before trying to get us to go to his shop for 30-45 minutes, walking alongside us. In good humor, Daniel (tall man) responded, “hello short man.” It was shocking to see people diving into, spitting water from, washing clothes in, and dishes in, this river. My guide book tells me 80 “official” sewer systems empty into it, as well as the unburned bodies of anyone who dies under the age of 15, of smallpox, pregnant women, or people who die of “other diseases.” The guidebook also states there are “1.5 million bacteria per 100ml of water” and that water in excess of 500 bacteria per 100ml of water isn’t suitable for bathing.” I split off, after a bit, due to feelings of impending illness, and made my way back to the hotel, projectile-vomitting a couple times. Though I’m sure the chicken burger and walking in the heat for hours didn’t help, it was also difficult to see a man sleeping (chest still moving a bit) with 1-15 flies walking in and out of his mouth, and another man fishing a coconut out of the river, and shaking it, to assure it was “good,” ten feet from the washed up body of a baby. I made it back to thge Arti Palace, and slept for the next 12 hours, waking at 5:15am and thinking it was still the previous day. I went down to get water and was surprised to find the gate still locked, “this city is very dangerous,” tells the hotel manager. I was initially also surprised to find the staff sleeping on the floor, as i thought it must be around 8pm, it still being light out, heh. Upon finally looking at a clock, I slept for another 6 hours.

As for the aforementioned clarifications…

Regarding my post about my cultural observations, specifically the argumentativeness, and class boundaries that seem common. Because I recieved an email stating I overgeneralized, I will emphasize, that (as i think i said) those things have simply been recurrent everywhere i have been in the last month. Not every person is argumentative, and some people do seem to respect all fellow men as equals. Generally, and most certainly more that my experience in America, english speakers do not say “please” or “thank-you” and in the case of servants, waitstaff, and the poor, generally have certain dismissiveness that I personally disagree with. The host family I mentioned was just an example, and, as i mentioned, they were very kind, sweet people. I neither blame, nor think my culture better than them/theirs, I was simply making the observation that many people here instruct you to do things and get very heated if you disagree or wish to do something else. This is further true not only of vendors or people obviously getting commission, but of many helpful Indian travellers themselves. It is wonderful practice in bargaining though. An average of 10 or more times a day I find it necessary it firmly say (3-6 times) “No.” or “That’s ridiculous,” to prices I’m quoted, or travel offers pushed my way. It actually makes it much easier to say no, the way it is presented. If i were politely asked, excuse me sir, let me know I could help you with anything,” I’d be much more likely to buy something in a store than the more common, “BUY THIS! BUY IT NOW!” My gentle way of turning down offers is almost universally insufficient to get the message through, and I unfortunately find it necessary to often just say “alright” now, while walking away or pretending I will heed advice. Even with trains, the usual reason given by conductors and friends for not sitting in 2nd class is that I don’t want to be around “those type of people,” which doesn’t always seem to only refer to pickpockets and theives as much as the poor in general… Anyway… to emphasize, I LOVE Indian culture, the GENERAL PREVALENCE incredible complexity, generosity, friendliness, trust, love, kindness, etc. I just find the GENERAL PREVALENCE of argumentativeness and respect for class boundaries disfavorable by MY preferences =P.

Finally, regarding my post about not engaging in extreme-life-long-masochism, I recieved a couple emails that have led me to believe I may have been unclear. I do still believe having a family is selfish, just as ever eating or drinking or breathing is selfish. Anything self-motivated to a relative degree is relatively selfish. Selflessness is suicide, which is usually selfish in other ways. When I said I have decided I’ll let myself have a family and live a good deal of my life in America, or some other fully industrialized country, I didn’t mean to convey I’d decided it wasn’t selfish to do. I meant only I’m decided upon a new set-point of the amount of selfishness I’ve decided is necessary for myself. This also isn’t to say I’ve jumped to the other end of the continuum and decided to live a luxurious and wealthy life, though I think this would be much easier than living in poverty, I’m more against it than the latter. In specific response to a specific point emphasized in an email though, of course having a family is selfish. It is extremely selfish. Using a large portion of your time and money on a very small group of people that make you happy when such time and effort could be spent on the masses that don’t make you as happy is at least partially prioritizing your happiness, which seems to fit the definition of selfishness. I’m not sure it can be said that all selfishness isn’t somewhat bad, either, but I am relatively confident that some selfishness can be acceptable, alright, even necessary. I further recognize interpersonal variance in preferences/needs/requirements, and therefore offer no interpersonal judgement for these variances in selfishness. As I’ve long believed, no one i “better” than anyone else, even in the extremes (ex: Hitler vs. Gandhi), people are just born with different genes in different socioeconomic circumstances, having different opportunities, such as meeting different people and learning different lessons, admist different neural firings and connections that make us who we “are.”

I’m going to go sleep for another 24 hours after another delicious helping of water an toast, and perhaps will then visit another temple or two and hit the tracks to Nepal =)

All my love and gratitude my dear fellows,

-Critter

I once read the self-aggrandizing and fictional autobiography of Benjamin
Franklin, and was rather taken by what he claimed to have done.
Listing the 20 qualities he believed characteristic of “the perfect person,” he went on to focus on 3-4 a week, attempting to integrate each into his actions, thoughts, and general decision making. He, of course, found that as he “mastered” one or two, he would invariably lose focus of the others, and ultimately admitted a “humble” defeat. From this I gathered that perfection is impossible, but by creating and trying to live by one’s own values/ideals, it is possible to be more perfect than one once was. Lacking faith or general esteem for religions or even popularized life philosophies, I decided to develop by my own values, which, luckily, happen to be accepted by American, and most other societies.

This has been a large part of my motivation for going to India, eating at inexpensive restaurants, and staying in the cheapest possible hotels I can find, without tv, clean sheets, A/C, or a private bathroom. I’m currently sitting in a 90+ degree room, next to the owner of this internet shop, who is surfing porn between phone-sex skype calls. I further just pulled myself out of bed again, having been horribly ill for the third time in the last couple weeks (assume i could have kept bitching, as i could).Though I continue to believe in the power of facing adversity, and in my continuing to face it for now, I’ve finally come to the frustrating realization that fulfillment cannot entirely replace happiness in one’s life. Annoyingly, like all things, they must be balanced. I had the naive ideal of owning nothing, living in these conditions for life, and not allowing myself to have a family due to my (continued) view that it is decently selfish to have one. (Except in cases of extreme neglectfulness, which I do not consider being part of a family), A husband/father must spend a decent amount of their time and money on their family, money and time that could be spend on more universal, utilitarian needs. Evolution and most societies seem to necessitate a minimum of half of one’s time be focused on their own welfare, whether general safety or physiological needs. My dream was to devote said amount of my time to me and the rest to others. Finally having time to think, being done school, etc. I’m considering being more reasonable, and allowing myself some happiness, as well as fulfillment. After all, living a life of pain and loneliness all for the hope of a second or two of fulfillment as I die seems a bit imbalanced, even, dare I say, foolish. I suppose I’ll pursue Geriatrics (or maybe Infectious disease)(I have 8 years of education before i must decide), and work in the U.S. with a family and all that jazz. I can still spend time working for the poor abroad, and donate a good amount to charities of my choice. In other words, some of you will be pleased to hear that I’ve decided to accept the fact that I’m human, despite my efforts to deceive myself.

PS- if this sounded pompous, which it surely did (as usual i’m not bothering to read it), then know it was not my intention. I, in fact, see myself in a very poor light, just a slightly less poor light than I see most. I’ve been given so many financial, educational, and social opportunities, that it was would be very unfortunate if I wasn’t on a better route than some…