Darjeeling has been the oasis we have needed in order to regroup, relax and eat. The mountain town specializes in the Tibetan food, momo’s, that we could not seem to get enough of the last five days. Small markets line the thin streets with everything you need to stay warm; rupees flowed out of our wallets like water from the hot showers. Tea is everywhere and drank at all times of the day. Power outages are the norm and never seemed to slow anything down.
Darjeeling and the area surrounding areas are currently trying to separate from India and create their own state, Gorkland. Green yellow and white banners wave in the chilly mountain air and loud speakers announce their plea daily. This causes political issues banning the sale of alcohol and taxi and jeep strikes. Yet, the people are always kind and smiling.
We did little the last few days, besides walk around and spend money and eat. We visited a zoo that featured endangered Himalayan animals kept for breeding. The animals, in their natural habitat, seemed happy and even came up to greet us when we approached their enclosures. The tea plantation, one of the 84 here, was closed but we were still able to get a mini lesson and chance to taste and purchase some locally grown tea, next a trek to the botanical gardens that had a greenhouse with everything from cacti to orchids.
Tomorrow another 12-hour bus to Patna to catch another 5-hour bus. Moving again. Next stop Varanasi to witness the Ganges.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Moving and Stopping
In the last week and a half we have moved from the white sandy beaches of Goa to the white snow kissed peaks of Darjeeling. We have gone from sweating all day and night to bundling up in multiple layers in order to feel comfortably warm.
Time has flown by like it tends to do when traveling and slowing down was much needed after the blur of days of moving. A train ride here, get off, look at some caves, get on a bus, get off, sleep, get up and look at the city, get on another train. That recipe has led me to feel like every location we did stop to look at was unreal, much like the many exhibits we viewed encased in glass. They were there; we just couldn’t dare touch them.
I imagine later that I will feel what I have seen. That the smell and feel of carved rock older than Jesus will stay for a holiday in my mind, instead of, like me, just visiting and then moving onto the next place. Even now, where I have slowed to a comfortable pace trying to conjure up images of those caves brings hollow pictures. Somewhere in the recesses of my travel filled mind I know that I touched walls that were painted over 3,000 years ago and statues that are over 4,000 years old that were still peeking out through the erosion of time so that we could witness them. That I did feel the history in the cool echo filled caves that took over a hundred years to construct and that feature three different religions (Brahmanism, Buddhism and Jainism). And that a day later we were on a train for longer than it took us to get to India from the states (28 hours) to walk the crowed streets of Kolkata, the second most populated city in India. But for now they are just a series of photos in my camera and words on a computer screen.**
** The caves we went to were the Ellora and Ajanta caves just outside Aurangabad. They were constructed between 2nd century BC and 11th century AD. Ellora has 34 caves and Ajanta has 26. At one time most of the caves were covered top to bottom in paintings. This was done by first laying a rough plaster of clay, cow dung and rice-husks and pressing it into the stone. On that coat a fine lime was spread to make it smooth and the outlines were drawn with a brush and color was then applied. The pigments used were from things like: yellow earth, red ocher, green rock, lamp brick and copper oxide. A second layer was then applied where the outlines were dimly visible; other brushes were then used to fill in the color. Last, shading with darker lines and toning down the highlights was done to attain the plastic look.
The paintings featured everything from Buddha’s life and trails to Hindu Gods to the everyday lives of Hindu people. The ceilings usually were various designs of flowers and bright colors.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Out With the New, In With the Old
In the last week I have learned that Goa was 'settled' by Portuguese Christians in the 1600's and has continued to stay one of the most christian areas of India. This is very apparent all over Goa but especially in Old Goa. Giant Portuguese cathedrals still sit in this area from when St. Frances Xavier settled the area hundreds of years ago. Helen and I visited this area in two trips, the first was just to see the cathedral that holds St. Frances body, the second was with others to see the rest that Old Goa had to offer.
Like with everything I have written in this blog so far, trying to describe not only the look but the feeling of Old Goa is nearly impossible, but I will do my best. The first place we visited was, as I said, the St. Frances Xavier cathedral. The years have been kind to this brick fortress, yet you can still see that it has been there for longer than the US has been a country.
Intricate Christian cravings line the inside with gold giving the whole place a royal feel when entering. Signs are posted warning to stay silent, but are not necessary as just standing in the doorway leaves you speechless.
Seeing a Saint in a glass casket that has been dead for hundreds of years was an interesting feeling. Not being Christian myself I didn't feel the spirituality that I imagine a Christian would feel, yet there was a sense of awe. This man converted an area of over a million people hundreds of years ago and still to this day Goa is Christian. This man changed Goa. And there he was laying in front of us.
After the main area we walked into an art gallery of sorts. Darkened paintings with areas peeling away hung on the walls. They showed St. Frances in the image of Jesus saving the Indian people. Statues of him where every few steps. Upon exiting the building an iron table with the Saint's name on it was covered in candles. We lit ours to show our respect, but this proved to be easier than it sounded. The candles were dipped in oil making them crackle when lit spitting hot oil all over my hands. We then had to burn the other end to soften the wax so the candle could be stuck to the table. It took us three candles to get this right.
We visited the rest of Old Goa near sunset giving the whole area a golden hue. Walking around was like walking back in time, minus all the tourists of course. More giant cathedrals lined with intricate craving of Jesus, Mother Mary and select Saints were featured. Statues also found their way into the mix showing sometimes creepy faces of sadness.
Walking around these pieces of history I found myself wondering how many people before me had also stopped to admire these relics? How many weddings, baptisms,and funerals had been held in those very walls?
After leaving the main grounds we moved onto the ruins of St. Augustine complex. It was built in 1602 and abandoned in 1862 due to the expulsion of the religious orders from Goa and the Portuguese government ordered it's demolition. It's crumbling bell tour can be seen from the main grounds, a ghostly reminded of what once was. Walking up to it was amazing. The size of the structure was surprising, as you are walking through you expect the next turn to be the end it just keeps going.
Walls still have original cravings in areas and in the middle of one of the 'rooms' encased in glass sat a stone chest. Rubbed away crosses could just barley be seen on walls where tourists have carved their names, hoping to also be frozen in time. The baptism tub sat raised in the middle of the first section, empty and growing random vegetation.
Across the street, both south and east, sat more cathedrals. One more modern and one only a few hundred years newer than the ruins. There was a sign outside it that said "Nunnery" but once we entered it looked abandoned, resembling the set of a horror movie. A short hallway that led to the main chapel had small inlets that had a creepy child sized table and chair set and an animal skin with Jesus on the cross painted on it.
Upon entering the chapel some birds flew out from the rafters, shedding feathers that floated down to us. With the sun almost down by this time only a small ray shone in showing fallen pillars and debris littering the floor and alter. A single statue of a man holding a staff stood in my view, I took a picture and hurried out of the eerie room in order to catch up with my friends. I did not want to be alone in there. Right outside, in the wall, was a glass cabinet filled with black crosses that looked as though they had been carelessly tossed in years ago.
Like with everything I have written in this blog so far, trying to describe not only the look but the feeling of Old Goa is nearly impossible, but I will do my best. The first place we visited was, as I said, the St. Frances Xavier cathedral. The years have been kind to this brick fortress, yet you can still see that it has been there for longer than the US has been a country.
Intricate Christian cravings line the inside with gold giving the whole place a royal feel when entering. Signs are posted warning to stay silent, but are not necessary as just standing in the doorway leaves you speechless.
Seeing a Saint in a glass casket that has been dead for hundreds of years was an interesting feeling. Not being Christian myself I didn't feel the spirituality that I imagine a Christian would feel, yet there was a sense of awe. This man converted an area of over a million people hundreds of years ago and still to this day Goa is Christian. This man changed Goa. And there he was laying in front of us.
After the main area we walked into an art gallery of sorts. Darkened paintings with areas peeling away hung on the walls. They showed St. Frances in the image of Jesus saving the Indian people. Statues of him where every few steps. Upon exiting the building an iron table with the Saint's name on it was covered in candles. We lit ours to show our respect, but this proved to be easier than it sounded. The candles were dipped in oil making them crackle when lit spitting hot oil all over my hands. We then had to burn the other end to soften the wax so the candle could be stuck to the table. It took us three candles to get this right.
We visited the rest of Old Goa near sunset giving the whole area a golden hue. Walking around was like walking back in time, minus all the tourists of course. More giant cathedrals lined with intricate craving of Jesus, Mother Mary and select Saints were featured. Statues also found their way into the mix showing sometimes creepy faces of sadness.
Walking around these pieces of history I found myself wondering how many people before me had also stopped to admire these relics? How many weddings, baptisms,and funerals had been held in those very walls?
After leaving the main grounds we moved onto the ruins of St. Augustine complex. It was built in 1602 and abandoned in 1862 due to the expulsion of the religious orders from Goa and the Portuguese government ordered it's demolition. It's crumbling bell tour can be seen from the main grounds, a ghostly reminded of what once was. Walking up to it was amazing. The size of the structure was surprising, as you are walking through you expect the next turn to be the end it just keeps going.
Walls still have original cravings in areas and in the middle of one of the 'rooms' encased in glass sat a stone chest. Rubbed away crosses could just barley be seen on walls where tourists have carved their names, hoping to also be frozen in time. The baptism tub sat raised in the middle of the first section, empty and growing random vegetation.
Across the street, both south and east, sat more cathedrals. One more modern and one only a few hundred years newer than the ruins. There was a sign outside it that said "Nunnery" but once we entered it looked abandoned, resembling the set of a horror movie. A short hallway that led to the main chapel had small inlets that had a creepy child sized table and chair set and an animal skin with Jesus on the cross painted on it.
Upon entering the chapel some birds flew out from the rafters, shedding feathers that floated down to us. With the sun almost down by this time only a small ray shone in showing fallen pillars and debris littering the floor and alter. A single statue of a man holding a staff stood in my view, I took a picture and hurried out of the eerie room in order to catch up with my friends. I did not want to be alone in there. Right outside, in the wall, was a glass cabinet filled with black crosses that looked as though they had been carelessly tossed in years ago.
Friday, January 15, 2010
A Taste of Spice
The day started off with yoga. A perfect way to loosen my travel tense shoulders. A hardy American breakfast followed and then we were off to the spice farm. This is the oldest spice farm in southern India and it has a rich history that even attracts India residents. It lies off the beaten path, as you walk to it from the parking lot you pass the elephant area where for a small price you can sit atop an elephant and have them spray you with water. Pass that, to make it to the tour area you have to cross a long rickety bridge that spans over the pond that surrounds the farm.
Once inside we saw how nutmeg, vanilla, lemon grass, basil and many others are grown and harvested. They told us how basil trees are worshiped as gods and are placed outside the home. At the end of the tour we got to see the "Monkey without a tail" pick some from the tops of the trees. This man learns how to climb these trees that look almost identical to palm trees at the age of eight and will do only that for the rest of his life. It was amazing to see him climb up and sway between the trees with total ease.
It is tradition to shower before reentering a home, but since that is not possible for us tourists our guide cleansed us by puring cool water down our backs before reentering the main area for lunch. It was very refreshing on the hot day. Once inside they fed us a authentic Goan meal on a banana leave and gave us a taste of their moonshine. After one taste I found myself a little light-headed.
Once inside we saw how nutmeg, vanilla, lemon grass, basil and many others are grown and harvested. They told us how basil trees are worshiped as gods and are placed outside the home. At the end of the tour we got to see the "Monkey without a tail" pick some from the tops of the trees. This man learns how to climb these trees that look almost identical to palm trees at the age of eight and will do only that for the rest of his life. It was amazing to see him climb up and sway between the trees with total ease.
It is tradition to shower before reentering a home, but since that is not possible for us tourists our guide cleansed us by puring cool water down our backs before reentering the main area for lunch. It was very refreshing on the hot day. Once inside they fed us a authentic Goan meal on a banana leave and gave us a taste of their moonshine. After one taste I found myself a little light-headed.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Greetings From India
It's day 4 in India and it has been a whirlwind. New Dehli was intense in every meaning of the word. People, cars and dogs were everywhere leaving a trail of garbage and waste behind them. We stayed in a small guest house off the main road that served us a nice little american breakfast before we headed out into the city to find Connaught Place to buy some Indian clothes. Trying to describe New Dehli is kinda like trying to describe a Van Gogh painting to a blind person. There is endless noise of car horns honking, dogs barking, people singing, yelling and talking. The smells range from strong intense to spices from the street vendors to rotting flesh. People, cars and scooters are everywhere. Trash litters the streets, ally ways and corners in staggering amounts. The poverty is impossible to miss, in a late night sponsor a African child commercial kind of way. Tarp tent burrows spotted to sides of main roads where brightly colored textiles could be seen hanging out to dry.
On our way we were continually harassed by local men trying to lead us to their (or their friends) shops. We eventually told them we were meeting our husbands and this seemed to make them back off. We got horribly lost due to this misdirection but where soon able to navigate our way throw the chaos. There are no real cross walks in New Delhi. You just inch out into traffic until there is a big enough space for you to make it across. This lead to some very close calls.
We did end up meeting a nice man that did not want to sell us anything and recommended a great little restaurant for lunch that was right next to the shop we were trying all morning to find. We had a amazing meal, got our Indian clothes and choose to get a rickshaw back to the guesthouse.
We then made our way to the airport to catch a plane to Goa, which ended up being the wrong airport. But, luckily, we were very early and the other airport was close so we made our flight with time to spare. The airport didn't have terminals like in the US, they had doors. These doors lead to a bus outside where we caught a bus which drove us to the plane that was parked out on the runway. After a 2 1/2 hour flight we landed in Goa and intantly felt better.
Goa was warmer, more laid back and extremly beautiful. This was what we were waiting for. Our guesthouse is hidden away off the main road and is walking distance to the beach and the ATM. The owner is probably the nicest women I have ever met. We are staying in a dorm type room where everyone is very friendly.
Goa is reminiscent of the islands of Thailand just enough to make it familiar and comfortable, but still different enough to make it seem new and exciting. The sounds are mostly from animals and bugs near the guesthouse, on the beach is the sound of tourism. People bardering, shop keepers trying to sell you anything and everything, "I make good price for you. Cheap, today's special." The smells are similar to New Delhi, as is the litter problem, but everything and one is much more laid back.
We spent our first day walking up the beach and swimming, enjoying the relax atmosphere, getting the bad taste that New Delhi left in our mouths out. We ended the day with a hookah bar and an authentic Goan meal.
On our way we were continually harassed by local men trying to lead us to their (or their friends) shops. We eventually told them we were meeting our husbands and this seemed to make them back off. We got horribly lost due to this misdirection but where soon able to navigate our way throw the chaos. There are no real cross walks in New Delhi. You just inch out into traffic until there is a big enough space for you to make it across. This lead to some very close calls.
We did end up meeting a nice man that did not want to sell us anything and recommended a great little restaurant for lunch that was right next to the shop we were trying all morning to find. We had a amazing meal, got our Indian clothes and choose to get a rickshaw back to the guesthouse.
We then made our way to the airport to catch a plane to Goa, which ended up being the wrong airport. But, luckily, we were very early and the other airport was close so we made our flight with time to spare. The airport didn't have terminals like in the US, they had doors. These doors lead to a bus outside where we caught a bus which drove us to the plane that was parked out on the runway. After a 2 1/2 hour flight we landed in Goa and intantly felt better.
Goa was warmer, more laid back and extremly beautiful. This was what we were waiting for. Our guesthouse is hidden away off the main road and is walking distance to the beach and the ATM. The owner is probably the nicest women I have ever met. We are staying in a dorm type room where everyone is very friendly.
Goa is reminiscent of the islands of Thailand just enough to make it familiar and comfortable, but still different enough to make it seem new and exciting. The sounds are mostly from animals and bugs near the guesthouse, on the beach is the sound of tourism. People bardering, shop keepers trying to sell you anything and everything, "I make good price for you. Cheap, today's special." The smells are similar to New Delhi, as is the litter problem, but everything and one is much more laid back.
We spent our first day walking up the beach and swimming, enjoying the relax atmosphere, getting the bad taste that New Delhi left in our mouths out. We ended the day with a hookah bar and an authentic Goan meal.
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