Happy New Year Fellow Fish,
It is crazy to think that one year has gone by for us since
we were making our way from Thailand to India. So picking up right where we
left off:
We arrived in Kolkatta, India around 3:30am local time on
January 1, 2013. We were excited to be kick off the new year with a new country
but first we had to overcome the crippling exhaustion we were all facing after
the New Year’s Eve day dilemma and just general fatigue. So we made our way
into the city area and after waking up a bunch of guesthouse staff we finally
settled on a place despite the predatory pricing we encountered due to the time
of day/night (about 4am by this point) coupled with the fact we were foreign,
something we would eventually get used to.
In Kolkatta, it seemed like we had taken a step back in time. The old
style cars, Colonial English buildings, goats tied up on the sidewalk eating
leaves taped to the wall, and everything in between just seemed like it would
have been this way 50 years ago. The first thing we noticed about the people is
that they have no sense of personal space and don’t mind if you catch them
staring. They will stare shamelessly. At first, it might seem threatening, but
if you simply smile back and shake your head from side-to-side they will do the
same. Everyone we encountered was abundantly helpful (or curious). However, we
had to be careful with where we would stop and ask someone for directions,
because if it was a high pedestrian area, after a minute or so we would be
entirely surrounded by about 10-15 people in addition to the first one we
stopped to ask help from.
We wandered around the city and stopped for Chai (Indian
milk tea) at a bunch of places. Chai would soon become a staple of our daily
routine and the Chai wallas (chai sellers) would be our greatest sources for
information on new places we would go. In keeping with the new year and new
city, it was time to embrace a new look. Luckily for me, as someone who can
only grow limited facial hair, India is big on mustaches. And as a man, it is
hard to get taken seriously if you don’t have a mustache. So I went ahead and
did myself a favor at the first shave guy we passed in the street and got an
authentic Indian mustache right on the sidewalk for about 40 rupees (a little
less than a dollar). I felt good as new, but the shave guy did me one better
and without consulting me picked up my right arm and started shaving away the
hair under my arm. By the time I even knew what he was doing, it was too late
and I just had to let it continue.
We met up with our good friend Moon, who we have now seen in
three different countries (Korea, Vietnam, and India), and she hung out with us
for most of our time in the city. One of our days, we were wandering around and
ended up on some back street areas where you can really see how little some
places have developed over the years. After we suffered through the bureaucracy
of booking tickets to Darjeeling, we were navigating our way back when I was
struck by just how intense the country is. We came across a flower/spice market
situated under a bridge. Making our way through it we were hit with so many
different smells that it was hard to tell where they were all coming from. But
once we were past the market area, it was again as if we had stepped back in
time. India had been described to me in the past as, “sensory overload” and it
was in this moment that I truly understood what that meant. The cumulative
smells of spices and flowers lingered as we got further and further away from the
market and soon was only exhaust and feces. The sounds were overwhelming with
the traffic congestion and the noise of honks and running engines and people
yelling at each other. The sights of old buildings seemingly in ruins yet still
being used. The taste of lunch still on your tongue mixing with the dusty air.
And the feeling of being surrounded on all side by people and cars with no
regard for your personal space. I was finally understanding the full load of
all these things combined at one time, and it was overwhelming to the point
where I had to stop walking for a minute and just try and process everything
that was going on around me.
That night we ate dinner with some of Moon’s friends at a
somewhat posh restaurant. We were severely underdressed and were surprised we
were let in the restaurant at all. What sticks out about this meal in my mind
is that everyone in the restaurant was very well-to-do, well dressed, and
probably well off financially if they were eating in this place, but this
restaurant served Thalis, a traditional Indian tray of food with rice,
vegetables, curries, and meats, and in keeping with traditions people ate with
their hands. It was hysterical when the food came out, seeing these people make
an absolute mess trying to get the food in their mouths without the curry
leaking out of the end of their palm full of rice. Dressed in their suits and
dresses and ties yet eating with their hands and looking not the least bit
refined.
Darjeeling
From Kolkatta, we hopped a train twelve hours north to
Darjeeling. We were in “sleeper class” which is one step up from the lowest
class with seating room. We had beds at least but there were 8 people to an
area. Three beds going up on each side of the compartment (no door) and two
across the narrow walk area. I was lulled to sleep on the train by the
cartoonishly loud snores coming from all over the train. Our train arrived in a
town called “Siliguri” which is at the base of the mountain that the town
Darjeeling sits atop. So we got a jeep and once our car was packed with people
and things started the 3 hours up the mountain to Darjeeling. The drive up was
stunning. Passing the incredible mountain scenery and small villages built
right into the side of the mountain just unreal.
Three hours later, we arrive at the top to Darjeeling, where
the at 2,150m (about a mile and a half) the air was much crisper and thinner.
We walk the town for about an hour trying to find a good place to stay and then
help ourselves to a lunch looking down and out over the mountain. We ate an
incredible Paneer butter Masala with a number of other traditional Tibetan and
Nepali food as we were so close to both countries. We spent our first day just
exploring the whole town and buying hats to battle the cold. It was probably the
first time we were truly cold since 2011.
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| Warmth shopping |
Over the course of the next week we take on everything
Darjeeling has to offer. Famous for its tea we indulge in as much as we can. We
spent many hours sipping tea and sitting by a fireplace in this one store that
looked down the mountain. Being that Darjeeling is part of the Himalayan
mountain range, we considered doing a trek, but found that there weren’t any
that fit our time frame. We did get a chance to go to the Zoo/Everest Museum.
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| Direwolf at the Zoo |
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| Zoo Animals |
My favorite day spent in Darjeeling was a day we got up at
3am and bunched in a car bound for Tiger Hill, about 20 minutes up the mountain
from Darjeeling’s town center. We were dropped off at an all cement building
with two levels. We went to the upper level and tried our best to stay warm.
Basically impossible. Our front row seats made us the envy of everyone behind
us, but that didn’t stop them from trying to nudge their way up. This
eventually got annoying so we opened the bay window looking out into the
darkness and over the paupers on the landing below and climbed out onto the
ledge to sit and witness what would become one of the most memorable
experiences of my young life. We were looking out into blackness waiting for
the sun to rise. As it got lighter, more things in the distance started to take
shape, most notably, Mount Kangchendzonga, the 3rd highest mountain
in the world. This area of the Himalayas was so big they looked close enough to
touch. All the surrounding ridges and snow-capped peaks were within an arms
reach it seemed. It was amazing to watch
as the sun hit the top, move, and then cover the entire ridge in red light. The
mountain itself lit up before the actual sun came up over the clouds. I stayed
as long as I could. People around me were leaving as soon as the sun was up but
I would have sat there all day even after some of my group had left. As I was
about to make my way down, I noticed some another peaks in the distance and
asked the ranger about them; he informed those were the “3 Sisters” which
included Nuptse, Lhotse, and Mount EVERSEST!! My mind was blown.
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| Everest in the distance |
As our time in Darjeeling came to a close, we ventured
outside of the town to more local areas that were completely untouched by the
tourists. Just people going about their daily lives, kids playing with sticks,
men and women doing their daily chores (I saw a real-life blacksmith). It was
amazing just walking past these homes built right on the side of the mountain.
Naturally, we drew stares from some of the people and got a bit lost. We also
realized just how much the altitude affected our breathing (and the constant
uphill walking didn’t help either).
On our last day in Darjeeling, Jeff got a bit sick as we
made our way down the mountain. He wasn’t feeling great when we got to the
bottom and made our way to the train station. We stopped for dinner, at a
questionable place but it was the only place open at the time and we got food.
I was poking fun at Jeff for being sick from the food and commending my own
stomach for being so strong and having iron lining that nothing could hurt. Our
train was a bit delayed so we waited in the train station. While we waited, I
could tell the dinner I had eaten was not sitting so well… I try my best to
fight off the nausea but while everyone was asleep I went to the nearest
garbage and pulled the trigger on my gag reflex. I had gotten some but not all
of it out but tried to go back and get some sleep in the waiting area with the
rest of the gang. Our train arrived at 4:45am, about an hour late, and we made
our way to the platform. I felt even worse than before. I buy some water then
politely excuse myself to find a suitable place to vomit in private. I started
to walk down the track looking for a place where no one would see me, but
everywhere had someone around. I don’t know what I was scared about but when I
saw a gentleman urinating on the tracks, in plain sight of anyone who cared to
watch, I didn’t feel so ashamed. So I once again, pulled the trigger and
violently emptied the contents of my stomach in three strong heaves. It seemed
to happen in slow motion, because I remember thinking to myself, (Heave: 1) “That
looks chunky. It is probably the bean/peas I had for dinner.” (Heave: 2) “I wonder
why its looks yellow…oh right…eggs for lunch.” (Heave: 3) “My stomach is either
really warm, or it is really cold out here, because I can see the steam develop
around my vomit,” as it made its way from my mouth to the tracks below.
Over the next 39 hours, I would not move from a 5-foot
radius. As it turns out, the train we got on was about 17 hours late in
arriving to New Delhi, so there was literally no where to go, not that I wanted
to move anyway.
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