Sunday, October 28, 2012

The Good Doctor

Yesterday, Sat. Oct. 27th, I decided to go visit the Main Temple, the Dalai Lama's temple. I've noticed that while McLeod Ganj feels different than the few other places I've been in India, amongst its Tibetan prominence lies an undeniable Indian influence. Hindu sahdus and Indian beggars line the entrance to the Temple as Buddhist Monks humbly float by. There's a certain shamelessness in Indian culture and its readily apparent juxtaposed against Tibetan culture in McLeod Ganj. Honking and cows eating trash out of the gutters constantly remind you that your still very much in India.

The main temple for Tibetan Buddhists located here in McLeod Ganj, like its culture, is modest. Sure, it has incredibly elaborate gold-laden shrines to Bodhisattvas and venerated Tibetan Buddhist legends, but overall, the management of American mega-churches would surely demand a face-lift - it's tough to tell you're at the Temple from the outside. The Temple righteously challenges the notion that grandeur is a requirement of respect and shows that it's whats inside that counts.

A shrine to Buddha overlooks the covered chair where the Dalai Lama will sit and give his teaching.
For the final paper in an upper-division Buddhist ethics class I took at UCSB, I researched Tibetan Buddhist debate and argued that it cultivates ethics. It was quite cool to get to watch the real deal as monks debated in the main square of the temple.


The temple has hidden nooks of beauty, evident in the golden prayer wheels.


I'm glad I decided to walk to the Temple as I had been told that the 28th was the day when people went to claim their cushion spot for the teaching. On the 27th, cushions were already filling in the upper temple. With the help of a very nice lady from Seattle who has attended teachings for 21 years and a friendly monk, I grabbed a cushion, got a place, and secured a seat with a direct line of sight to the Dalai Lama. It was recommended to return to the temple in the early afternoons and evenings to check on my cushion, making sure it's still there. Unfortunately, people decide they want to sit where you're sitting and uplift your cushion to put theirs down. So far so good, my cushion seems locked-in for the upcoming event.

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This morning, I went to go see Dr. Yeshi Dhonden. I've read books by the doctor and learned about Tibetan medicine at UCSB. Visiting him was a major reason to go to India, as it is for people all over the world. He was born in Lhasa, Tibet where at age eleven, he memorized the four Tibetan Medical texts and studied under the director of the Tibetan Medical Institute. He then moved to Dharamsala at the urging of the Dalai Lama where he became His Holiness' personal physical and founded and directed the Tibetan Medical Institute in McLeod Ganj. He is over 90 years old and still sees patients from 9am-1pm everyday except for Saturday in his tiny clinic in a tiny alley.

Tokens (little squares of paper) are given out every morning starting at 8am except for Saturdays at the front desk of the Tibetan Ashoka guesthouse where I'm staying. Just around the corner, the clinic opens at 9am. People begin lining up to receive tokens starting around 5:30 or 6am each morning and it may be days before they get to see the doctor - there is no doubt the Dr. Dhonden's services are in high demand.

There must have been 50 people in line
Fortunately, I asked for a token right when I arrived at the guesthouse on Friday and was squeezed in for Sunday. After waking up to the long line, I was glad I didn't have to wait in line and grateful to see the doctor shortly after I arrived. I showed up to the clinic around 9:30am as my number was 20.

Humble, like most things Tibetan
It was apparent that people from all over India, all over the world, of all different beliefs, faiths, and cultures come to see Dr. Dhonden. It was chaotic - people were jammed in the narrow "entrance hall" as you entered the clinic as well as inside the main waiting room. Anywhere else in the world, a line would form according to what number you had. In India, it was a much different story. The line was dynamic as an older assistant would come out from the clinic every once in a while to check out what numbers were around. He would put a few people in line and then go back inside. His work almost seemed random - I was in line with number 8 and number 19 was pushed out of the way in front of me. Many other people buzzed around, trying to get in days early, comparing numbers, and generally just cluttering the place.

In the "entrance hall" to the clinic, there was a sink. Each patient is requested to bring a urine sample, your first pee of the day as it is the most pure, to the doctor to analyse. I brought mine in a plastic water bottle. Humorously, others brought theirs in whiskey and rum bottles. Dr. Dhonden would come out of his office to the sink and his assistant would request the 5 or 6 people he previously lined up to come forward where you then emptied your urine into a cup held by the doctor. Dr. Dhonden whisked the pee around in the cup, looked at it, and poured it out, rinse and repeat for the next person in line. His memorization skills are obviously incredible.

The sink is under the fluorescent lamp, and the crowd would part to make room for the doctor when he came to analyse our urine. 
Those five or six people were then ushered into the waiting room where the assistant then called us in one by one.


It was my turn, I was called into the office. The small office consisted of a table where a younger assistant sat, writing prescriptions and notes, while the older assistant who kept some semblance of order took cues from the doctor. I sat down in a chair right in front of the doctor and he took my left hand. While sampling my urine, he asked where I was from. I told him "America." In the office, he turned my hand upside-down and started reading my pulse with three fingers. Going from one wrist to the next, he began to talk to me as if I was fluent in the language he was speaking (Hindi I believe, but maybe Tibetan, maybe both!). His assistants were busy talking to the patient before me still in the room, and I would laugh, having no idea what he was saying. Dr. Dhonden would hit his assistant on the arm to get their attention to translate and he joked when I told him that I went to school in Santa Barbara, responding that there are "many rich people there, and also in Malibu!"

After my pulse reading, he asked me what my problem was. I told him I had allergies that sometimes cause asthma. He asked me to lift up my shirt. Slapping my stomach then feeling my rib cage, he put his ear up to my chest and asked me to breathe deeply, then cough. Laughing more together, he asked through his translator when I was leaving Dharamsala. I told him not until Wednesday, but I'd stay as long as I needed to. He asked if I could stay for a week, coming back to see him in seven days  to check on any improvement. Of course I would stay later than I planned and return to his office. He held my cold hands in his warm ones, showing through his eyes (and again speaking in a tongue I couldn't understand) that he was curious why they were so cold (it was freezing in his office!). His assistant handed me my prescription with another sheet stapled to it that listed foods and drinks I should avoid (coffee, sour foods, apples, and others). I left as we exchanged one final smile and said thanks. Just outside the waiting room was the pharmacy where I gave the lady behind the desk my prescription and got four bags of pills, enough for a seven day supply.

My prescription and pills
Tibetan healing is quite a commitment. I'm to take two pills 30 mins before breakfast, 30 mins after lunch, at 4pm, and six pills, four small and two large, 30 mins after dinner. I chew them up and then swallow them with lukewarm or hot water. They smell, and probably taste, like dirt and spices. Total cost for my weeks worth of pills - 160 rupees, just over 3 dollars.

There were some really sick people at the Dr.'s office. A man I was sitting next to in the waiting room had cancer and there was a young boy with an incredibly swollen and disfigured face. All had big hopes that Dr. Dhonden could help them. We'll see how I do. I'm off to check on my cushion again and then do some reading to prepare for the upcoming teachings. Until next time...

Friday, October 26, 2012

Whilrwind Wedding Week

I bounced my way into McLeod Ganj this morning, home of the Tibetan government in exile and H.H. the Dalai Lama. Traveling from Rishikesh, our luxury bus turned sports car sped through the night north from Uttarakhand to Himachal Pradesh. Of course, we made a few chai stops along the way - always a bizarre feeling going from wild driving to calming chai.

A random stop at a roadside Dhaba along the way
I've only been here for half a day but I'm already in love with McLeod Ganj. Rishikesh feels like India -  McLeod Ganj feels like Tibet. McLeod Ganj is upper Dharamsala, Dharamsala proper filling the valley below McLeod Ganj's enlightened perch. It's quiet and quaint, and much cleaner than Rishikesh. Many of the people are Tibetan and the influence of its' culture permeates the town.

At the onset of my decision to travel to India, I knew I wanted to come to McLeod Ganj. Interested in Buddhism and searching for Himalayan panoramas, it seemed there was no better place to visit on the planet (except for maybe Tibet itself).  I soon learned that the Dalai Lama was giving a teaching at his home temple towards the end of October. After arriving in Rishikesh and my plans for Arunachal Pradesh developed, I was really excited when it appeared I could time my visit to McLeod Ganj to coincide with the Dalai Lama's teaching from Oct. 29-31st.

Arriving at 6:30am this morning sans housing arrangements,  I soon realized that I might have made a mistake not booking a place to stay in advanced. My professor from UCSB who I consulted when planning my trip to India recommended I stay at the Tibetan Ashoka Guesthouse, owned by former personal physician to the Dalai Lama, world-renowned Dr. Yeshi Dhonden. The only caveat was that they don't allow advance reservations. Finding my way to the slightly hidden guesthouse, the lady at the desk told me there was only one room available at the moment and there were many people in line ahead of me. After quickly checking out another guesthouse nearby run by a Tibetan monastery that was booked for the next three days, I scrambled to find a place to set my belongings down, tired from the restless overnight journey. Most of the Lonely Planet recommendations were booked and it appeared that arriving to McLeod Ganj on the eve of a Dalai Lama teaching without a guesthouse arrangement was not a great move. In the midst of sorting out my living situation, I found the Security Office for the Tibetan Government in Exile where one has to register to get a seat in the temple for the teaching. Two passport photos and a short questionnaire later, I had my registration card - much easier than I anticipated, but still glad I showed up with plenty of time to spare.

My registration card with some Tibetan love on my wall
After sorting out my registration, just for good measure I went back to the Ashoka Guesthouse to double-check that there were no rooms available  As I was walking in, a lady was checking out! I ended up with a top-story room with lots of sun that opens to the main balcony with views of Himalayan peaks and Dharamsala valley.

My abode...room #17


The view from the deck of the Tibetan Ashoka guesthouse


I'm sitting in a hip restaurant, finally relaxing after a crazy past few days.


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Monday, Oct. 22nd, was the end of the 6-day Durga Puja holiday. Of course, there was a feast to celebrate and myself, Flow, Ganesh, and Arvind were invited to lunch at Master Ji's "flat" just above my apartment. I was excited for my first true homemade Indian feast, but a bit scared. Indian's love to eat! What started out reasonable turned into insanity - at any sight of my plate empty of one dish or the other, it was immediately replenished. This happened over and over again, no thanks to Flow who was egging on Master Ji and his family serving us! I'm not sure if I've ever been that full before...

Just the beginning....
On Tuesday, I guided a full-day trip on the Ganga - a really fun 36km stretch of big-volume class III rapids. With only one boat needed, I was appointed trip leader with Rakesh, my good buddy, our safety kayaker. It's a bit interesting to to trip lead a trip when you can't communicate with half of the team (driver, gear manager, etc). Nonetheless, the trip went great...enjoy the short video I put together of our trip shot from a GoPro on my helmet.


                                         


After rafting, it was wedding time. For Hindus, marriages are not allowed from mid-July to mid-October. The third week in October was the first week for weddings in nearly 4 months (this mainly has to do with weddings not taking place during the monsoon). Furthermore, Wednesday was the Hindu holiday Dussehra - making it the most popular day for weddings all year. Downtown Rishikesh was lit up by weddings and on the way to Mahveer's pre-wedding party on Tuesday night, we must have passed 30 or 40 other weddings. It's wild to think that for these two or three days, the 23rd-25th, almost everyone in Rishikesh was surely attending a wedding somewhere. Tuesday was essentially the bachelor party as Mahveer's soon-to-be wife celebrated with her family elsewhere. I won't go into details but I will say that towards the end of the night, as everyone was in full-on party mode, I walked outside to check out where the loud Indian dance music was coming from. It was initially quite shocking to find a group of 30 Indian men full-on dancing together, not a woman in sight. They really love to dance, and they really love to dance with each other!

After a slow start the next morning, I took it easy in preparation for the real deal. Picking up our starched and pressed Kurta Pajamas, it was fun to get into the spirit of wedding season in India. Around 7:30pm, we met in the Red Chilli office to capture what felt like Halloween for all of us foreigners.

Goofy foreigners

Weddings in India (or at least Rishikesh) during this time are held outside in big squares contained by open-roofed tents of traditional Indian design. "Christmas" lights mark the entrances and the events are vivid and colorful affairs. As we entered Mahveer's wedding, it was a hodge-podge of tradition and modernity. On one hand, you had Mahveer and his now wife, Vera sitting on a stage, Vera dressing in a flashy traditional Saree as family members and friends all took their turns congratulating the newly-weds and taking photos.
The couple kept a straight face during the procession as part of tradition, showing that the couple understands the immensity of marriage and all that comes with it. On the other hand, you had small kids dancing their hearts out to blaring new-age Indian dance music in jeans and t-shirts. There was heaps of food and we all eat way too much.

Veer & Vera
Arvind, mob boss of Rishikesh, decided that we should leave Veer's wedding and make an appearance at the wedding on the most popular night to get married in Rishikesh. The couple's parents and relatives were big businessmen and politicians. While there is a lot of poverty in India, there is also a lot of wealth. This wedding was immense even for U.S. standards. There must have been over 20 Indian dishes to eat, endless sweets, and enough sparkle from the women's Sarees to light up the city on their own. It made Veer's wedding seem very local and it was interesting to see the difference wealth and power makes in India - a country where it takes more than just a good person to obtain to riches and influence (baksheesh anyone? :) ).

Thursday I woke up late again and went downtown to mail some postcards. Total cost to mail four postcards from India to the U.S. - 60 rupees, $1.20. I don't understand how it is cheaper to mail a postcard from India to the U.S. than it is to mail a postcard across town back in the States. I hope they make it!

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The Dalai Lama's teaching is quickly approached and I'm looking forward to spending the next few days recovering from all the madness of this past week while hunting and poking around McLeod Ganj - there's lots I want to do. After the teachings, I plan to meet up with Red Chilli co-owner Vipin and do some paragliding in Bir, a small town east of Dharamsala. Jumping of Himalayan passes and flying down into the valleys below - yes please! From Bir, I'll travel to Manali to catch what is supposed to be an absolutely beautiful place before it gets too cold. My plan is to make it back to Rishikesh just in time for Diwali, a.k.a. the fireworks of Fourth of July & the gifting of Christmas jammed into one holiday, multiplied to Indian proportions.

I'll write again as I explore more of McLeod Ganj. I'm off to find a book or two from the Tibetan Library so I can learn a bit about what the Dalai Lama is going to talk about and catch up on some needed sleep. Until next time...

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Alkhananda-Ganga Expedition Report

"Cooper brother, do you know why all these half-burned logs are all over the beach?" Sahdev said. "No....," I replied. "This is the beach where the village burns the dead bodies."

You have to expect that kinda stuff on an expedition down the holiest river in India, but it still shocks you a bit.

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Packing the jeep the day before and leaving at 6:30am the next morning, we embarked on a 3.5 hour jeep ride on the landslide-wracked Shivalik mountain road. Of course, we stopped for chai and a great aloo parantha breakfast. I had been told that chai on the road is the best in India. It was certainly the best I've had yet.


We got to our charcoaled-log put-in beach around 10am and it might have been the first time I'd been on time in India. I've noticed that Indian guides don't necessarily work harder than guides in American, they just work hard in a different way. For example, at Red Chilli Adventures, each expedition requires the office manager, the guy who opens the gear store, a driver, a cook (who also buys the food), guides, and usually a helper. Back in the U.S. at Whitewater Voyages, one guy for a trip could be the manager, the driver, a cook (who also buys the good), a guide, and a helper. The guys in India work harder at their individual tasks - the driving is sketchier, power outages in the office make contact difficult, and the guides strap each piece of gear to the gear rig with its own individual strap. In America, one guy works less hard at each individual task, but since they do much more, they end up working equally hard (although guides on the Tuolumne still work harder than any other river I've been to).

The team prepares for the trip, awaiting our guests coming off a four day trek

We met our two British guests, a couple living in New Delhi for 18-months. Jim was in Delhi attempting to get the construction company he works for their first big bid in India. His girlfriend, Claire, volunteered teaching English. They were a witty pair and fun people to be around.

After a short 1.5 hour float, we picked out a beach for our first night of camping. The Alkhananda was disappointing so far. We were still close to the road with villages, power lines, and restaurants around us. Most unfortunate was the amount of trash on the banks of the river. Even at our beach camp that initially appeared fairly clean, you'd stumble over a washed up women's dress shoe and crunch stryofoam containers. For a country that loves its rivers so much, its a bit confusing to see them so poorly treated.



Still, the beach offered a nice place to get into the river expedition, Indian style, and relax for the night. And it was a pretty awesome place for a sunrise....



Having a dedicated chef on a multi-day rafting trip was a whole new experience for me. I like cooking, but it is sure nice to get into camp and relax as if you were a guest. I tried to help but Kumar, our Nepali cook, spoke almost no English. Sometimes I watched, but most of the time I just enjoyed. Another perk of having a cook on the trip is being handed a warm cup of chai while still in your sleeping bag. What a guy!


Every night, we'd erect a structure that required the paddle boat, two paddles, a big tarp with guy lines, and a few big rocks. At first I was skeptical, "wouldn't you rather sleep on the tarp than with it over us on this clear night?" "No," the Indian guys simply responded.

It was so dewy every morning it felt like it had rained. Everything was soaked - a great call to put the tarp up to keep us dry.

Kumar!
On day 2, the trip improved significantly. We were excitingly close to the confluence of the Alkhananda and the Bhagirati, the two rivers that come together to create the Mother Ganga. A very holy spot for Hindus, the team was stoked to reach this neat spot. First, we ran three of the biggest rapids on the trip, one with a huge pillow and a massive whirlpool. Still, the rapids were very friendly and nothing above class III. Meanwhile, the river cleaned up and the scenery improved. We reached the confluence and it was a very cool place to be.

The picturesque village that surrounded the confluence

The confluence

This river trip just got significantly cooler
The scenery by now was excellent. The road was way above the river and we were surrounded by lush, Himalayan foothill jungle.

Our second beach camp was lovely and we felt lucky to be sleeping out on the Ganga.



Settled into the rhythm of the trip and the way the Indian guys do things, day 3 was the best day of the trip. There were many small villages scattered above the Ganga river and the majority of them are only accesible by foot bridge. These bridges add texture to the awesome surroundings. One bridge in particular was crowded by monkeys and as I approached the bridge ahead of the rest of the group in the gear cataraft, I noticed a small house for sadhus to the right of the bridge.

As the kayak and paddle boat approached the house, the sadhus began playing what must have been massive drums. The booming native Indian rhythms filled the canyon and gave me the chills. Quite a way to say namaste to visitors!

Lovin' the drumming permanating the canyon

We got to camp at a reasonable hour and Sahdev, myself, Jim and Claire ferried across the river to do a short hike up to a big waterfall. The side canyon smelled like dying flesh...it was gross! After quickly hiking up, we reaching a point where Sahdev and I deemed it too risky to hike our clients over slick boulders choking the creek. Plus, it didn't take much to persuade Jim and Claire that we were going to get out of the small side canyon and hike around to a trail that provided nice views of our camp and the canyon.

This trail was much more - it was an old pilgrimage route that went from Rishkiesh 300km to Badrinath, a very holy Hindu city. Sahdev told us that it was a risky trek as many disappeared because of "man-eaters." "You mean tigers?" I asked, Jim and Claire looking confused. Spending enough time with these guys, I've slowly started to make sense of their sometimes interesting use of the English language :)

Along the trail, I spotted the biggest, coolest spider I've ever seen.



And below, our camp being set-up by Kumar, Matt, and Rakesh awaited us. We ferried back across the river for another delicious night of vegetarian meals and chai by Kumar and a windy, but pleasant night sleep.

Day 3 camp

The final day of this expedition is essentially the day-trip stretch we run out of Rishikesh. Deciding not to have Red Chilli spend the money on my lunch and not wanting Kumar to have to unload all the gear by himself, I opted out of the trip for the day.

Overall, this trip was a good experience. The scenery and beaches after leaving the Alkhananda was stunning. The whitewater, on the other hand, was really mellow. Of course, day 4 that I opted out of has a handful of big-volume class III rapids, but with only two or three other notable rapids on the trip, I would consider it on the whole a scenic cruise. I think there are other rivers with just as good, if not better scenery, and much better whitewater - I hope to explore some of them soon! Maybe to experience the Ganga, just do the day stretch out of Rishikesh to warm-up for a more full-on expedition elsewhere. Most importantly, I got to see how overnight trips happen in India (at least for one outfitter) and start to learn how I can involve myself and be useful in the different trip style (while slowly learning the new languages!).

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I got my second "red dot" while being here in India. We are in the midst of Durga Puja, a six-day holiday celebrating the god Durga (really can't tell you much more than that). Every night, Master Jee's family gathers into a small room and they chant and sing while posters of Hindu gods are lit by flashing "christmas" lights and candles (Master Jee's floor of our building is below the Red Chilli office and above Flow and my apartments). Then his three young boys come up to the Red Chilli office and give whatever members of the team are around a handful of fruit (apples, bananas, etc), curd, and brown sugar. Then you get a red dot. I asked Ganesh what the red dot means and he forwarded me to a regular in the store who is always typing what look like college notes on religion. He gave me a long explanation but essentially, the red dot is symbolic of the third eye that allows you to see divine things that the regular eyes cannot see and is also associated with the chakras between the belly button and the third eye. The conversation was much more interesting and in depth than that and I'm thankful for the great religious studies classes I took at UCSB which prepared me for such conversations and allowed me to feel knowledgeable and understand all of what he was saying.

I'm really enjoying getting immersed in Rishikesh and I feel like I'm living here rather than visiting here. I'm learning some Hindi (and a bit of Nepali), shop keepers recognize me, and I feel accepted by the Red Chilli local guides and the kids who live above me. Until next time...

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Expeditions and Extravagence

Yesterday, I officially guided my first trip in India - cool! A nice and easy run down the class III+ Ganges river at high flows, maybe about 35,000 cfs. I found myself in the biggest wave train on the stretch and nearly flipped end over end, but we hung in there and made it through - probably 10-15 ft. waves, super fun!

Tomorrow, I'll follow that fun up embarking on my first river expedition here in India. Leaving at 6am, we'll head up the Ganges river valley into the Shivalik mountains for about four hours. Of course, we'll stop for chai along the way :) Our expedition begins on the Alkhanandra river and will go for 4 days and 3 nights, finishing on the Ganga right back in Rishikesh (the Alkhanandra meets with another river to become the Ganges above Rishikesh). It is a scenic trip with some fun, big-water class III rapids. I'm really excited to get out of the hustle and bustle of Rishikesh and head up into the mountains. Beautiful sandy beach camps, huge waterfalls, home-cooked Indian meals made by our chef, and good ol' river time with a great crew....should be a memorable time.

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I did a bit of preparation during my day off today, both for my upcoming expedition and Veer's wedding (which I mentioned in an earlier post). For the expedition, following my incredible shave yesterday, I went back to the barber for a "proper" Indian haircut. Flow, the kayaker from Austria and India veteran, came with me to the barber shop to confirm with the barber that I would receive the real deal. With cat-like precision, he snipped away with techniques I'd never seen before. Still, a haircut is a haircut. What really separates an Indian haircut from any I've ever received was the head massage at the end. The barber oiled up my hair with a cooling Indian cream and went to town. I wasn't sure how long it was going to go for as he kept going and going. It must have been about a 15 minute massage - what a way to end a haircut! I left, hair greased back, fresh as a daisy and my head, cool as a cucumber.

After my cut, I went to discuss wedding preparations with Arvind. Previously, we had talked about getting a traditional Indian wedding suit tailored for me, otherwise known as a kurta pajama. Since I was leaving for this four-day expedition, I wanted to make sure there was going to be enough time to make one for me once I returned. Deciding it was better to get it done today, Arvind explained that we would go to the best shop fabric shop in Rishkiesh, then go to a famous tailor who he has a special connection with to make my wedding outfit. Flow and Matthew decided to hop on the kurta pajama train as well!

First, Flow, Matthew, and I headed downtown to get some chicken for lunch (only available on the outskirts of town where it is legal, although you can get chicken in town if you know where to go and who to ask). Of course, we washed our lunch down with a lassi from Pappu Lassi. I tried the banana lassi this time but decided that there is just nothing like a sweet lassi. When in Rome...I had a sweet lassi too!

Arvind met up with us on his motorbike at Pappu Lassi where I hopped on the back and headed to the fabric store while Matthew and Flow headed out on foot to meet us near the tailor in a different part of Rishikesh.

Riding on the back of a bike through a crowded city center in India is so wild, especially on the back of a bike with a guy who keeps laughing and saying "without no risk, there is no fun!" Arvind navigated the maze of cars like the Class V raft guide he is, but still, what an adventure!

We made it to the fabric shop which is different than most as it is a government shop. In India, government shops have fixed prices and while a bit more expensive (or just fair), there is no "my price, your price". Free of haggling, Arvind discussed with the shop owner to find the best white fabric in our price range for our kurta pajamas. It's always fun to watch Arvind work his magic!

Even a simple conversation about amount and type of material is lively and animated
After getting the right type of a fabric, a really thin, high-quality white cotton, Arvind and I hit the road again to meet up with Flow and Matthew to go to the tailor.

To get to the tailor we had to walk through one of the largest ashram's in India, set on the Ganges in Rishikesh. It is a beautiful and very large place with lush gardens. When we got to the tailor shop, I was pleasantly surprised to see his humble, hole-in-the-wall abode.


The tiny, tiny shop had the main man, two other tailors and an assistant packed in amongst shelves full of fabric. After Arvind worked some more magic, as not just anyone can get a piece sewn by this man, we got fully measured.

Flow gets measured by the master.
After the three of us got measured up, we said thanks and headed back through the ashram. The total cost of my fancy, perfectly-tailored kurta pajama - about 1900 rupees - $38...only in India.

Getting back on Arvind's bike one more time, we weaved our way back home, with only one close call, or as Arvind said "very near!" :)

I'm not sure how many more times I'll get on the back of a motorbike, but I'm sure excited to wear my kurta pajama to Veer's wedding! Looking forward to that celebration on the 23rd and 24th of October.

I'm bringing my camera on the expedition and will be sure to take many pictures with a trip write-up to follow. Tomorrow is my birthday and I feel grateful to get to celebrate it on a beautiful river, in a beautiful country, with awesome people. I'll write again when I return....until next time!


Saturday, October 13, 2012

The Three S's of India...and a few more

India is a different place, and thus, everyday tasks back home become new experiences over here. I figured someone must be interested in how one goes about the three S's in India, so I decided to write about it. Of course, India is a big place and there are certainly more ways of doing these things than I present here, but nonetheless, this is my current situation.

1. Using the bathroom

Really nothing much of note, except for one big, awesome change...no toilet paper! I'm happy to report that I haven't used toilet paper once while here in India. You see, there's really no need. Indians have come up with a much better, greener, and cleaner method of going to the bathroom.

The standard toilet in Rishikesh
The key is that little black spout. One does their business and when finished, you simply turn on the spigot next to the toilet (in the top left of the photo) and out comes a nice burst of water to clean your rear end. As my buddy says, "toilet paper dries you out, this is very good for skin hydration." You drip dry and off you go. It is really quite pleasant and requires no sacrificed trees! 

2. Showering

Toilets, sinks, and showers all share the same room in a residential bathroom in Rishikesh. The walls are tile up to your chest and the water is stopped from going out of the door by a piece of wood and the door. It's quite interesting and very multi-functional. 

The Geyser
Whole home water heaters are not common. Rather most bathrooms have their own water heaters called "geysers." The on-off switch is usually on the outside, at least in rented rooms or hotels (as it is in mine). That way, if you leave it on, the hotel owner can shut it off after you've fallen asleep. The picture shows a shower head, fairly standard. The caveat is that the hot water doesn't come out of the shower head. 


Rather, the hot water comes out of the spigot below the shower head. Therefore, taking a shower in my bathroom consists of filling up the blue bucket with hot water and little bit of cold water. Then, I use the Oakland A's themed smaller water jug to pour water over myself to shower. It's actually quite nice and wastes much less water then letting the shower blast while you soap up and reflect on life. 

When you're all done with your shower, of course the bathroom floor is soaked. You take the squeegee and get the floor pretty dry, pushing the water into a drain hole in the corner of the bathroom. The sink also drains into this same hole. 

Furthermore, the blue bucket also is your washing machine. You can buy bars of dry laundry detergent that you put into the bucket of clothes and warm water, mix it up, and hang it out to dry. Works great!

The bathroom in India is really so much more, and much less wasteful than in the states.

3. Shave

By far the best of the three S's, I went today to get my first shave. I've tried to get a shave over the past two days but the barber next door was visiting his family in a village in the hills. I've never had a shave in a barber shop before so I was real excited to experience it in India where it is much more commonplace than in the states.

You sit in the chair and the barber massages your face with some cream. Then he paints shaving cream on your face with precision and accuracy. Lifting up my nose to get my pitiful moustache, he applied and re-applied a think layer of cooling cream. After many applications of shaving cream, he cracked open a new razor and with the hands of a man with a plan, gave me the closest shave I've ever had. He lifted up skin to get that spot, moved my head to get another. He shaved me not once, but twice. Then he cleaned my face and applied some aftershave. I figured it was over until he wiped off the aftershave, applied yet another cream and massaged my face again. Finishing up, he applied more aftershave with a little final rub. Whew, fresh as a daisy. The total cost was 50 rupees - $1.00...and that was the foreigner price. I can't wait for my facial hair to grow back just enough to warrant another shave.

The local barbershop.
Often, there's a gang of men packed in, talkin' shop.
Here's a few other S's that I've come across in India.

4. Shirt

Not too exciting but I needed a cooler shirt than my thick cotton shirts so I went three doors down and had one hand tailored. It was cool to pick out the fabric and design, then get all measured up. A few hours later, voila...a custom shirt. The shirt was 500 rupees - 10 dollars...not too shabby.

The coolest part about this shirt is that one side has a big pocket built in...what a functional design!

5. Scaffolding

The silliest of the S's, across the street from my apartment, many men are re-building a hotel/restaurant. Indian construction, at least in the smaller towns, is pretty wild. Mules transport a concrete mixture to the construction site where builders mix it with water and carry it to where they need it in big saucers on their head. From there, bricks are pasted together. It is a slow and arduous process, but the building is coming together. What really blew my mind was the scaffolding. It's cool to know that people are still building using scaffolding made of wood and held up by rope joints...but sketchy! 


Well, that's all I have for the S's...thanks for indulging me! Until next time...

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Monkeys, Cows, and Rickshaws

As I'm settling into Rishikesh, plans for traveling to other parts of India are coming together nicely. Today I booked an overnight bus ticket to Mcleod Ganj aka Dharamsala on Oct. 25th. A big reason for this trip is that the Dalai Lama is giving a 3-day teaching at his home temple while I'm planning to be there. While the teaching will probably be a bit advanced for my basic knowledge of Buddhism, the experience of sitting in the Dalai Lama's temple surrounded by hundreds or maybe thousands of monks is one I'm really looking forward to. Hopefully I can get a ticket as there is no advanced registration, but the teaching starts on the 29th so I should get there early enough to get a seat (or rather, a cushion :) ).

Also, I've finally contacted co-owner of RiverIndia in Arunachal Pradesh, Nino Dai. My good friend who first planted the seed for this trip to India a few years back and the other owner of RiverIndia, Roland Stevenson and I had tried and tried to contact Nino over the past three or four weeks to no avail. Traveling to Arunachal is really the major reason for my trip to India, so it wasn't a great feeling to embark from the states not having talked to Nino for almost a month. Fortunately, masters of all things India, Arvind and Ganesh from Red Chilli contacted Nino's mother who got in touch with Nino who called me on my Indian cell phone a few hours later. Without getting my hopes up (as Roland said, in India "never count chickens until they've hatched and been tested for worms"), it looks like I'll travel out to Arunachal from mid-Nov. to mid-Dec. There, I'll guide some multi-day fishing/whitewater trips on the Subansiri River, lead a guide school for locals, and guide some expeditions on the mighty Siang river. Also, I hope to visit the largest Tibetan Buddhist monastery outside of Tibet in Tawang where Roland has a close friend who is a monk there. 

All of this is really, really exciting and I'm looking forward to seeing more of this crazy, epic country.

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When I first drove through downtown Rishkiesh from the airport, I didn't know if I'd ever go back. It seemed much too dangerous to drive through the madness, especially in an open, three-wheeled rickshaw. Driving into downtown Rishikesh five days later in a rickshaw, I realized that I've really learned to love the driving in India...not that I have a choice :)

With nine of us in the back, including two random Indian ladies (one pretty much sitting on my lap) with their big duffel bags, and two plus the driver up front, our filled-to-the-brim tuk tuk navigated the maze of autos and animals.


After the Indian ladies departed about halfway through our short journey, I was freed to turn around and capture a bit of the experience on video.



Once downtown, thanks to Flow, expert kayaker and Rishikesh veteran, we made our way to the famous lassi shop, Pappu Lassi. 



Lassi is made from yogurt and enhanced with spices or sweets. I had a sweet lassi topped with sliced almonds and rosewater....sooo good! I'll certainly be back, although I'll go in the morning before they sell-out of banana lassi, their true specialty. 

It is really something to walk through downtown Rishikesh, full of people, smells, colors, and shops.


We found ourselves on a big beach where many, many people gathered to bathe in the mother Ganga, washing away their sins and securing a trip to heaven! It was awesome to see so many people going to a river and giving thanks to it for providing so many life necessities. 

We traveled back to the otherside of Rishikesh, had a nice long dinner, and crashed.

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Today, my plan was to get my first hot shave and head massage and go and visit an orphanage run by a good friend of Roland. India loves to toy with your plans - neither the shave shop owner or the lady who runs the orphanage were in today! 

We'll see what tomorrow brings, you just never know here. I'll finish up with one of my favorite pictures I've taken so far - a man selling random goods on his cell phone, a monkey, a cow, and a god....only in India! Until next time...




Sunday, October 7, 2012

Musical Plans

Well, I didn't end up getting on the river today. No trips booked in advance so I made other plans, then trips booked very last minute this morning. As I've already learned, nothing happens the way you plan it in India, but it's part of the adventure and enhances the journey. I ended up going on a hike with my new buddy Nishit, a climber from south India who is hangin out in Rishiksh in between a Wilderness First Responder course and a 20-day Expedition Leader course. More on that later....except for a picture right now :)

Nishit, a really awesome guy
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Last night, another guide from Red Chilli Matt, two Irish gals who Matt took rafting earlier, and myself went down to the Ganga to check out a nightly prayer ceremony. But first we had to cross Luxman Jhula bridge...

Enter the chaos!!!
Yes, motorbikes, cows, monkeys, and humans all share this narrow bridge.
While a cool ceremony, it is really no different than going to church back in the US...except for you're in India. A good experience and the tabla player in the "house band" was pretty good!

The statue on the right is of the Hindu godess Shiva, protector of the mother Ganga. The flame
to the left was the center of the ceremony.

We ended the night getting some food at the Ganga Beach Cafe. I had an awesome veggie Korma dish while some great reggae played in the background. At night, the streets quiet down. Thankfully, Matt and I had a bit more of a peaceful walk home.

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After waking up and saying hello to everyone, I cruised down the street to get some Aloo Parantha, the potato and chapati breakfast. On the way, I ran into Nishit, or rather he ran in to me. I usually find myself trying not to get hit by a moving vehicle and avoiding cow poop when I walk around, always surprised when I run into friends. We went and got breakfast elsewhere and decided we should go on a hike to Kunjapuri Temple, high in the hills. I figured it'd be a great way to spend the day, seeing as there was no rafting. After finding out about the trip that came together last minute (but not bummed!), we got some brief info from Ganesh, the Red Chilli Office Manager, and headed out.

From the beginning, I was thankful to be with Nishit as we navigated the narrow maze of alleys on the outskirts of Rishikesh. We required constant direction from the locals, which required the ability to speak Hindi.

We squeezed through the little slot in the back left to come back out into the street!
We quickly entered into the hills, hiking along a beautiful creek. 



After hiking next to the creek for a ways on a nice path, we ran into an India couple doing laundry. Once again, glad to have Nishit, we found out we had missed the trail only a short ways back. After backtracking and going down a different trail, we found ourselves essentially in someone's home where a young boy told us the trail was the direction we has just come from! The boy walked us out and at that time, the couple met up with us. Lo and behold, there was the trail, up and to the left. Unmarked, the trail from here to the top was really steep, hot, sunny, exposed, and quite overgrown, as we half-bushwacked our way up.

Sweaty and itchy
We made our way up to a flat, rocky road where we further bushwacked. I was running out of water and it was really hot so we decided to turn around (Nishit could drink from pipes coming out of the hills which looked clean but I knew would spell disaster for me). Before we turned around, we soaked up the view for a bit and had some delicious cookies Nishit had picked up.

Awesome view of the Ganga river valley and Rishikesh from the road.
Turns out the hike up was about 4 to 5 hours long and we had quite a ways to go - we were told it took about 2 hours and the couple doing laundry told us we were almost there! Still, it was really nice to get some exercise, get up into the foothills of the Himalaya, and hang out with Nishit.

Life is good here, just did some laundry and off to get dinner soon. Going rafting tomorrow and really looking forward to it...assuming it happens :) One last picture from our lovely hike...until next time!


Saturday, October 6, 2012

Holy Cow!

I don't think it's possible for the human mind to imagine what you'll find when you enter India...

Arriving at New Dehli airport, it all seemed pretty sane. It felt like SFO - except everyone was Indian. When I disembarked from the plane arriving from Singapore, I expected the smell to overtake me. Not so much, it was a sweet smell, with undertones of smoke, burning - pollution. When I got on the free shuttle bus from the international terminal to the domestic terminal, while a little wild, the drive was OK, nothing out of my comfort zone.

Flying on a nice, new twin-prop plane into Dehradun, I was was treated to views of the Himalayas - stunning. Jagged, towering, they look like no mountain range I've seen before. Getting close to the ground before landing, I could already tell it was a different sort of India from New Dehli. No high rises, no highways. Still, Dehradun airport was quite modern and the world seemed sane.

From the moment my driver and I hit the road in his well kept, vintage car, all sanity flew out of the window. I was blown away, times 1000. It wasn't so much the smell, or the colors, or the monkeys, cows, and dogs - it was the driving, oh the driving! 

If the country road between Dehradun and Rishikesh seemed crazy, it was just a mellow warm up before entering Rishikesh proper. Going through the main street, it seemed like every time I looked up, we were mere milliseconds and just centimeters away from crashing. Passing pedestrians, cows (sometimes just sitting in the middle of the road!), motorbikes (with entire families on them), and tuk tuks, we'd swerve into the opposite lane to speed past the smaller, slower moving vehicles. TRUCK! We'd swerve back just in the nick of time, horns blazing. Left turn, a shortcut, my driver explained. The street was about a car-and-a-half's width wide lined by buildings that went right up to the street. People and vehicles, moving in both directions, all shared this "colonial" road. Wait a second, my driver has received a phone call! For the first time in my life, I missed the hands-free driving rule in California :)

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I had a pleasant morning adventure today. I bought a cell phone and watched monkeys heckle people on the Laxman Jhula bridge from the German Bakery where I got a few cups of coffee on recommendation from a friend. Breakfast was a delicious chapati filled with some mix of potatoes, spices, and vegetables - 15 rupees - about 30 cents. I'm staying with the Red Chilli Adventure guys, the rafting outfit I've been hooked up with through many friends, in a nice apartment just under their office. 

My lovely apartment
The Red Chilli office and my apartment are little abodes of peace. The street noise is muffled, cleanliness pervades, and beautiful views of the Ganges abound (expect pictures from now on, I took no pictures on day one except for mental pictures I'll never forget). 

The view from my room....the other direction is just as pretty
Quickly after I arrived, Arvind, co-owner of Red Chilli Adventures, told me that the team was going to raft the "town" section of the Ganges, in India the Ganga, down to a very nice hotel. The purpose was to meet with a hotel owner over chai to discuss doing the section as a mellow run for his guests and maybe taking kayaks around where the hotel is right on the river. It was an absolutely beautiful float during the golden hour of the day. We rafted under the two famous bridges in town built by the British, a beautiful 13 story Hindu temple, more ashrams than you can count, ghats with people getting ready to pray and bodies cremating, and watched people live their life, dancing to music, cooking, playing, and relaxing (water quality is considered here to be good, fairly high up with few towns above and not too much cremation). It was an incredible experience floating down one of the holiest rivers in the world and a great introduction to Rishikesh and India. 

After carrying the huge raft through narrow alleys to find the jeep parked in the hotel parking lot, we had chai and discussed how the hotel and Red Chilli could work together. I tuned out most of the discussion as my mind wandered far away from lite business talk. We drove back at night through the main section of town...oh the driving. I had a huge smile on my face the whole time, it is just so wild.

Laxman Jhula Bridge and the 13 story Hindu Temple 
Tomorrow, I will run the main section of whitewater on the Ganga for the first time. Big volume (35,000-40,000cfs), fun, splashy Class III. A nice change after a low-water California season. I'm finally feeling a bit adjusted to life in India. I'm walking down the street with more and more confidence, initially thinking that there was no way I'd ever leave my room deeming it far too crazy to expose myself to the rigor of a busy India street. I had lunch at a really good restaurant, Tip-Top. I had yellow dahl (a lentil dish) with rice and chapati. Way more than I could eat for 100 rupees - two dollars. Going to take it easy for the rest of the day and hopefully sleep as well as I did last night (Flow, my neighbor who is a kayaker from Austria, informed me that around 7am, monkeys starting rocking our building...I didn't hear a thing!). Looking forward to getting to know Rishikesh better as well as my new Indian friends at Red Chilli (such great guys - Veer already invited me to his wedding later in October!). Here's a funny sight I saw on the way home from the German bakery...until next time!

I didn't know that there were over 140 whitewater "companies" in Rishikesh. Really, most are
small with only one boat, run out of some tiny shop as it's very easy to get a permit from the state.
This outfit uses the greenest method of shuttling boats I've seen :)