Rishikesh Revisited

     I am completely behind on my blog, partly due to bad internet and partly due to becoming a total beach bum in Goa for most of November. So, I thought the easiest way to catch up  is through photographs. 

Beatles Ashram 

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The power of the Ganges

X HMS X

Second time's the charm...

   

     18 months ago I stood on the platform of Amritsar station bickering with my travel companion Louise. We had taken the over-night sleeper train from Rishikesh and had been scheduled to arrive at Amritsar earlier that morning. Instead, we arrived at 4pm because the journey that should have taken 10 hours, took 16, due to, well, I am not really sure-- shame on us for believing anything runs smoothly in India. So there we were, minutes from the Golden Temple--Amritsar''s main attraction--arguing about whether to go or not.  But as we debated, our connecting train to Delhi had rolled in and our flight from Delhi to Nepal the following day had us tied to the train so we had to depart. Thus tired, hungry and upset we boarded the train, swearing to return to The Golden Temple someday soon.
      18 months later I was back, handing in my sandals (no footwear is permitted inside the temple) and queuing to enter the golden wonder. Sadly Louise could not make it this time around, but luckily my boyfriend Johnny accompanied me to temple, even though he hates temples.
     Within there was a feast of colourful characters bathing, praying and bustling about. Johnny and I set up camp under some shade and tried to enjoyed a morning of people watching, but it proved difficult. While observing the spectacle, we were bombarded by Indians who pushed babies into our arms, photographed us, starred at us and sat down with us to have very long chats . For us this was a great way to interact with the people of India and to be in many of their holiday snaps! 

                           

I hope Louise makes it here someday soon.

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My New Favorite Temple

     My new favorite temple is the inspiring Mata Mandir temple in Amritsar. The theater of the wondrous place is something truly special with its long mirrored walk ways, hidden grottoes, vivid shrines, ankle deep waterways, winding staircases and a tunnel replicating a mouth. The temple is captivating and makes you feel like you have entered into another world. 

     The temple was built in 1989 to commemoration the charitable work of Shrimati Lal Devi (pictured above), who devoted her whole life to the Gods and lived purely on fruit and milk. In 1994 she reached the ultimate state of nirvana and ever since she has been greatly respected, and women who wish to become pregnant travel to her temple and pray to her to ensure that they will be given the ultimate gift, a child.

     As I crawled on my hands and knees through the tunnels and waded my way across the waterways I fell deeply in love with the surroundings and felt more at home in this temple than any other temple  I have visited before.

Has anyone else been to this enchanting temple...?

X HMS X

Finding spirituality in Varanasi...?

     There is a unique, chaotic beauty in Varanasi that is hidden under the ashes and seedy alley-ways. I had hoped to find this beauty and spirituality in India's most "holy city," but finding peace here was a challenge.  Instead, one is forced to jump head-first into the hectic streets and get lost for hours in the labyrinth of alleys decorated with tea shops, cloth sellers, and India's oddities;  dodge your way past cows, monkeys and goats; and be asked a thousand times if you want a 'super, very good deal' for something you surely never wanted, or would never buy.  

     However, I found the Ghats (steps leading to the Ganges) to be the best way to soak up Varanasi's true beauty.  For it was easy to get lost in a world of people-watching while on the ghats, because many vibrant characters come to the water to bathe and pray.
     One evening I attended the nightly ceremony held at the Dasawamdh Ghat, which was a true spectacle, and a must see if you visit Varanasi. We viewed the celebrations from wooden boats, which were stationed on the river in front of the ceremony, and all the boats were jam-packed with devotees.  The women around us wore colorful saris that glowed in in the dusty pink sunset-- a sight I will always cherish, and as the sun continued downward, the moon rose and the river Ganges turned dark, only to be lit by the golden glares of floating candles, which were placed in water by spectators, including myself, as offerings to the Gods.  The candle was inside a woven banana leaf basket filled with fresh flowers, and the basket ensured that the candle would float once it was dropped in the water. As the candle lights danced on the water, a rush of love for India filled my soul. There truly is no other place in the world like India.

    With my soul dancing from the night's celebrations I slept peacefully. The following day I awoke and I was eager to venture again to another ghat to find the same beauty I found the night before, but I was in for a surprise.  I decided to visit the Manikarnika ghat, the city's most famous burning ghat, to see if I could find peace within the ceremony's realm. Hindus believe that those who are cremated in Varanasi can achieve moksha, a state of liberation from the cycle of reincarnation and a union with Braham (God). 
    After reading about the burning ceremony I had imagined that the ghat would be heavenly: fresh flowers in vivid colours, men wearing bright turbans chanting hymns, and women in bright saris celebrating the passing of a loved one. Instead, the Manikarnika ghat looked like man's impression of hell: large dusty logs were piled 12 feet high all around us; derelict buildings stood within the dead-wood graveyard, covered in smut; skinny cows eating rubbish; touts demanding money and swindling tourists for cash; path covered in ashes leading through the hell. As I continued to walk, I met with the burning ghat where six bodies were burning to dust.  As soon I saw the burning, I felt that I shouldn't be there, that it was wrong for me to be watching the cremation. While I wanted to be able to think peacefully about the sight taking place before my eyes, it was impossible. Death was also staring me straight in the face, and I didn't know how to process the images before me.

Boat trip at dusk

     The burning ghat was too much for me, with the pestering for money and the cremation setting. So Johnny and I opted for a less invasive view and watched the burning from a boat on the Ganges. The view of the burning ghat from the water was much calmer in the glow of the setting sun, and gave me time to reflect on what I had witnessed. Perhaps the reason I found the ghats so overwhelming was due to my own insecurities regarding death and the afterlife. 
     Varanasi might not have given me the spiritual awakening I was searching for, but it did make me think a lot about my own life. As I watched the bodies of the burning ghats turn to dust, I thought about what I wanted to achieve before I, too, met the same fate. Life is a very short journey and I plan to make mine a true adventure.

Ganges offering

Burning Ghats

XHMSX

12 days in Pokhara, Nepal

     Pokhara, Nepal is a town based around an idyllic lake and is an adrenaline-seekers paradise with its trekking, paragliding, and even the world's longest zip line at one's disposal. Moreover, if you are seeking something more spiritual, Pokhara offers all types of Yoga and meditation lessons. It is a perfect place to find peace.

      Johnny and I came to Pokhara to escape the hectic Kathmandu and relax after our mammoth trek to Base Camp Everest. Seeing that our budget was overspent due to the trek, and because the above activities were out of our price range, there was not much more for us to do in Pokhara except grab a comfortable spot by the lakeside, soak up the view and chill. 

      For twelve days we did nothing but relax--it was bliss. Well, we did try one private yoga lesson which was disastrous due to our rather uninterested yoga teacher. The lesson started well, with incense stinks  lit in a shrine dedicated to the instructors God, and some chanting that we all participated in, but then it all went down hill. He requested that we touch our toes to our ears 42 times and then proceeded to make countless telephone calls on his mobile while we jammed our feet into our ears; any spirituality that I was seeking was ruined by the non stop chatter from my so called "spiritual teacher." 

      Apart from our interesting Yoga Lesson, we read, ate--a lot, and soaked up Pokhara's vibes. We actually ate extremely well because we happened to have found a gem of a restaurant called Royven's. If you ever come to Pokhara, find this restaurant! The food is cheap and delicious, plus Sunil, the restaurant's owner, is the most welcoming person. 

     

Pokhara was an ideal place for us to just watch the world go by and feel at peace. 

Bye, Pokhara.

X HMS X

     

     

    

Base Camp Everest Part 4

     Leaving Pheirche we now had one day to go till we reached base camp. First we had to hike to the next village, Loboche, sitting at 16,100ft. Luckily on our way to Lobuche the mist Lingering above Pheriche had passed, revealing a bright and clear day, giving way to views that could melt even the coldest of hearts and bring them to a tear, for this land is special and its spirit is alive.

                 Meditation 

     We hiked four long hours from Pheriche to Loboche.  We made it town at 1pm, tired and sore, we were ready for a lodge and a big bowl of Sherpa Stew.

      We ate and rested, but the high altitude began to do very strange things to our bodies.   The effects go something like this: when hiking at high altitude you start to walk like a much older version of yourself; breathing is harder as there is less oxygen; headaches occur; your mouth remains dry even when you drink water; you get tired, so very very tired; sometimes you get dizzy and fall down; and you have a tendency to go to bed very early, but remain awake and restless throughout the night, even though you are exhausted. Worse of all, altitude sickness can bring on death within 12 hours, and the only cure is descend as quickly as possible. You must always remember to listen to your body and walk very very slowly. 

   

   Awaking the next morning we were ready for Everest, we could see her in our sights, she was a short hike away. The higher we climbed towards the 17,000ft  the thinner the air became. The altitude hit us and took over our  bodies, sucking us dry. Altitude sickness symptoms started to stir inside myself and Johnny, so we decided to take the advice we had seen written so many times along the trek 'Don't ignore altitude sickness - DESCEND-DESCEND-DESCEND'.  We listened to our bodies and the warnings and descended just before the official marker.

We had hiked the Base Camp Everest trek alone and we had made it out alive.
    

  

What went up must come down....

After nine days hiking up it took us three long days of hiking to get back to Lukla airport.

Our descent in pictures 

16 seater plane to ourselves!

Love you forever BHW

xHMSx

Base Camp Everest Trek Part 3

Namche Bizarre

     Namche Bizarre was a larger settlement than I imagined. It was a trekkers paradise with everything you could possibly need but at a staggering high price--internet access, bookshops, trekking equipment, snacks, money exchange, even a German Bakery.
     We took a $2.50 room and decided it was time to wash some clothes. We opted to join the locals at the stream and began scrubbing our dirty clothing with soap. We hung our freshly washed laundry in the sun at our guesthouse and hoped it would dry.
     We acclimatized in Namche for two days, where we took short hikes and rested for the trek ahead...

Washing clothes with the locals

Nepalese Momo's 

        Outside the Namste Museum    
        One of the many waterfalls                                        

                                                               

     We where excited to have our packs back on as we left Namche headed for the next village, Tengboche.
It's an exhilarating feeling as you pass trekkers who are armed with guides and porters when you are hiking to Base Camp Everest without those precautions...well, perhaps, one could say I had a porter, my wonderfully strong boyfriend, who carried a few things up the mountain for me; but otherwise, we were on our own.
    We hiked for six hours to reach the ghost town of Tengboche, which was idyllic. We barley saw another hiker all day and it felt as if the land was ours. We were at peace.

     We ate our first Sherpa stew at our guesthouse in Tengboche, which is a hearty stew consisting of vegetables, dumplings, a touch of ginger, a dash of garlic, and a steamy broth--and it is delicious! After dinner, we were ready to hit the sack but as our heads hit the pillow we suddenly heard screams of joy coming from outside our room. We made way to the sound and found a group of people gathered outside the guesthouse staring at the sky:  Everest had made her first appearance in days, and, boy was she stunning.

 Our Room in Tengboche                                                                          Sherpa Stew

Wild flowers that pave the way

World's Highest Monestry

     We awoke early the next day after our first good night sleep in days and set our for the village of Pheriche. With our trusty guide book in hand we were ready for the six hours of hard trekking ahead of us. When I say it was hard work, I mean it really, truly was hard work, especially when you're carrying a large pack, as well as suffering high altitude aliments and a blazing sun.  However--and this is when I need to give a special mention to the many porters of the Himalayan hills--the porters make you feel shameful for stopping, for huffing-and-puffing, and for getting red in the face, because they carry all manor of items up the mountain on their back, and I mean all manor: wood planks, food boxes, water drums, doors, rolled carpets, beds, coffee machines, even generators, beer cases, and stones. So I should retract my previous comment about the high price of a Mars bar, as the porters have to haul the candy bar boxes up the mountain.

                                                                             The porters and their loads


      Reaching the small valley of Pheriche we bunked in $2.50 a night room. Pheriche was a misty place that would ever so often reveal the snow topped peaks that hug like giants in the sky behind the village. We rested and acclimatized here for 3 nights.

All Photo's Pheriche 

x HMS x