India
June 6-July 6
Nepal Rafting Pictures
(if you have not seen them yet)
By the time we arrived in India, we had heard so many stories from other travellers, that we were ready for absolutely anything. India, it seems, is a love/hate country among the group of wanderers that we have met. NOW, Mari and I can agree that India has its share of both ups and downs, but my best advice is to just visit, and decide for yourself what India has to offer.
With that in mind, we crossed from the eastern border of Nepal, walked across a wide river, and arrived in India. Everyone we met seemed to know at least a few English words, and within 15 minutes of arrival, we were on a bus to Siliguri, and
then , equally as quick, on a bus to Darjeeling. We had decided that since India was bound to be hot, we should start off in the mountains. Plus, both Mari and I had been suffering since our rafting trip, and decided that a couple rest days might be in order. When we got to Darjeeling, it was 15 degrees Celcius, and we spent the next few days bundled up against the cold (don't worry, later in India the temperature would soar almost non-stop above 45). Not only were we not expecting this cold snap, we were also not expecting the amount of tourists that were in the mountains. (June-August is still definately the low season for western tourists, however, in the hot months all the Indian tourists flee to the hills, they themselves not always accustommed to the heat)
For the first couple days in Darjeeling, we just rested. Both of us were in desperate need of a break, and we were also beginning to get worn down from the whole trip in general, but after a few easy days, we were back on track, and decided to explore. Obviously, one thing everyone must do is find a tea plantation. When you do, be careful, since there will be several 'employees' who make their living by showing people around the plantation. We found someone who was willing to show us around, and only expected a small tip, although the 'tour' only lasted for about 10 minutes. We were really quite disappointed, and were hoping for something magical, when a lady called us back. She brought us to her house, and then proceeded to make tea for us, and explain all the different varieties of tea available. She also explained growing times, procedures, what makes good/bad tea leaves etc. It was very nice, and she was very friendly. She then offered to sell us some 'top-grade' tea at very reasonable prices.
We were not surprised at this, but were surprised by how enterprising she was. She explained that she lived on the plantation with her husband, who is employed, but the plant wouldn't give here a job. To compensate for that, she 'acquired' the 'top quality' tea, and then sold it for a pitiance compared to what the plant wanted. We were laughing so much at this point, that we bought some tea as presents.
It was time to brace the heat, so we rented a jeep and left the mountains at break-neck speed. (there is a local taxi service, where you get a seat in a jeep, and then the driver takes you down the mountain pass at incredible speeds, then stops for 30 minutes for a break, then drives at break-neck speed again. the 70 km journey took 3 hours, and we were usually averaging a speed of 90 km/h)
The first town from Darjeeling is Siliguri. It is only a stop-over, but we had to spend the night and catch a train the following day. Since the town does not see many westerners stop here, Mari and I appeared very novel, so that people watched us with great interest. While I was getting a hair cut (on the street, there are street vendors for absolutely everything in India), there was a group standing around just watching. When I had a sandal repaired, another group stood around watching. This struck me as very odd, but I soon got used to it and tried to just chat with people, although they were truly not interested in talking to me, but more contented to stare at my hair (wow, look at it cut) and my sandles (which have been falling apart since I bought them, and now are in better condition than new, thanks to a street cobbler who charged me 50 cents).
Thanks to the British, India has been outfitted with a network of trains, which can take you anywhere (almost) in the country. They are fairly efficient, cheap to eat on, a good way to see the country, and relatively comfortable (you get your own cot on overnight trips). My only complaint is that not all trains are numbered. If you find a unnumbered train, ask everyone you see. Mari and I almost missed our train, as we raced around the station, finally found the right train, and then had to run from car to car, asking anyone who spoke english, what the number the car number was. After a rush, we finally settled in, 30 seconds before the train left. The next morning, we rolled into Calcutta.
Calcutta is one of those places that everyone seems to warn you against visiting. The name alone conjours up visions of extreme poverty and filth. However, we enjoyed Calcutta more than any of the other Indian cities. It was huge, dirty, sprawling, and poor, but it also had a older dignity and a charm that we felt was missing from the rest of India. The city's streets are full of old Ambassadors, a 1950's british car that after it finished production in britian, was bought by a company in Calcutta and is still made there today. The other means of transportation is the Human-pulled rickshaw, It is the only place in India where these still run. The famous quote that the Rickshaw drivers made when the government tried to introduce cycle-pulled rickshaws was "And who can afford a Cycle-Rickshaw?"
Most of the older city is dominated by the colonial building built by the British when Calcutta was the capital prior to 1911. The monuments are stunning and well kept. The poverty is definatly evident and seems a tragic reminder of how a city can be brought to its knees by the mass influx of immigrants and refugees. Most of the poor have come to Calcutta since the annexation of Bangladesh in 1949, life has been very hard for them, and consequently for the rest of the Calcuttans.
Varanassi was the nest stop on our trip across India. Since we had a day train, we arrived fairly late at night. We were tired and very worn out, and jumped in the first rickshaw that we happened upon. In most places on earth, it doesn't matter which taxi or what type of taxi you get into, however in India (and many countries in Asia) the driver's will take you to a guest-house where they get a good commission (and usually a place that gives commission to taxi-drivers will do so because his guest-house is a worn down bug infested hole). With this in mind, we were en route to a guest house of our choice, when the driver stopped and said 'that guest-house you want, you can't get to it at this time of night, but I know a place' Mari and I are thinking, 'of course you know a place', but we were so tired that we just didn't care. 'Fine' I said 'take us wherever, I just am too tired to argue with you'. Well, he took us to a brand new beautiful guest house that was cheaper than the one we had originally wanted to go to.
RULE 1: You will never figure out India, and when you think you've got it figured, it will change