Puri, Orissa - August 20-21
Our first trip out of Kolkata was to the beach town Puri in Orissa, the state southwest of West Bengal. We took a night train but because we purchased the tickets last minute, Sarah and I ended up sharing a bunk which meant sleeping sitting up all night. Surprisingly, it wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would be! Once arriving in Puri, we checked into our hostel and headed straight for the beach. The life guards there wear white, dunce-cap-like hats and hold hands with "swimmers" as the waves crash upon them to make sure they don't drown. I didn't venture into the bay but instead spent my time sipping coconut water safely in the shade. The next day we visited the 700 year old Konark Sun Temple which was so much more than the erotic carvings for which it's known; there were carvings of dances from all over India, influences from countries in Africa and Asia, and depictions of everyday life. While the temple was obviously the main attraction, at times we couldn't help but feel like we were a close second, with people asking us for photos at every turn or simply snapping away without asking for permission. It's a position we often find ourselves in and our answer completely depends on the situation. In this case, we turned down everyone who asked because had we said yes, we would have been swarmed. In other situations, though, when there are less people around, we're more likely to say yes. Another factor is who's doing the asking; being asked by a teenage boy or single adult male is completely different than being asked by a child or family.
After Konark, we went shopping for crafts at a nearby town and then at Raghurajpur, an artisan village. When we drove up to the village, every shop owner/artist came out of his store beckoning us to visit. The process was repeated whenever we exited a shop. With 10-15 shops, it was a bit overwhelming. The art form most prevalent in this community is patachitra, an extremely detailed and intricate style of painting. Each artist would show us hundreds of pieces, each one different from the other which made it incredibly difficult to choose. I could have easily bought ten but was somehow able to limit myself to three :-)
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Bishnupur, West Bengal - August 28-29
Our second trip was arranged and led by our Bangla teacher, Protimadi. We visited Bishnupur, a temple city west of Kolkata. The two-day trip included visits to nine temples, one canon, two artisan villages, and a sari factory. One memorable moment happened at Radhashtan Temple. We had just finished looking around and were sipping tea in the car when all of the sudden, I saw about five monkeys jump seemingly from nowhere onto the temple wall. I screamed, "Monkeys!!!" and we hurried out to see them. However, these monkeys were huge and they kept coming. I could hear their strength as they leapt over the rooftops and have to admit that even I, someone who has always liked my primate cousins, was a bit scared.The first village we visited was Dighna where they make brass sculptures called dokra. The artisans first sculpt the figures in wax, making a mold onto which they place the brass. When we visited, they were busy making some cute, fist-sized owls. When we were done with our purchases there, we then went to a terracotta artisan village called Panchmura where the artist was sculpting huge figures in preparation for the upcoming Durga Puja (more on that later!).
Lastly, we visited a sari shop where we saw the inner workings of the factory. To weave the designs, they use cards with wholes in them, reminding me of the old punch cards for computers that, while I've never seen, have been told once existed ;-) It was a very complicated system that I couldn't wrap my mind around and made me appreciate even more the Bishnupuri sari I ended up buying.
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Himachal Pradesh - September 10-19
Our longest trip so far was to Himachal Pradesh, the second most northern state in the country. We began by taking a night bus from Delhi to Manali but, due to a landslide, our bus didn't make it to our destination. After being stuck for five hours on the outskirts of a town, the family on whose porch we sough refuge from the sun kindly called a cab for us and our new friend from France. When we finally arrived at Mountain Dew Guesthouse, our first task was to find breakfast, which we did at the Moon Dance Restaurant. We then visited a tourist office to arrange a three day trek in the Chandrakhani pass of the Himalayas and after doing that, visited some temples and sipped some tea. The next day, we left for our trek and after a long, muddy, winding road, we piled out of the truck only to look up and see two men had been riding on top the entire time along with our supplies! They were two of the three Nepali supermen whom carried our tents and food. Even though they were stick thin, carried two to three times the weight we carried and had less than ideal footwear (one was in flip flops), they hiked at least twice as fast as us. The first day was 2 1/2 hours of hiking straight up and the entire time I was regretting the decision to go. While I was in shape before leaving for India, the prevalence of sweets and energy-sapping humidity in Kolkata have left me soft after three months. Needless to say, I was relieved when we reached camp, even if it was overrun by cows by the end of the night.
The second day of the trek, we started off with a morning stretch and a huge breakfast (I was never hungry on the three day journey!). This was the most rewarding of the days, hiking in the clouds, seeing horses along the way, and having tea in the hut of a strikingly beautiful young couple and their son.
Day three was by far the hardest of the days. After about an hour hike to the peak of our trek, we had to start the journey down, a journey my legs were definitely not up for. By lunch time, I had two jello sticks supporting my weight and so often resorted to simply sitting down and sliding. Being so close to the end also made it mentally difficult because we were never quiet as close as it seemed. The trail took us through Malana, an isolated village whose inhabitants considers non-Malanas untouchable and therefore have many rules for non-Malana visitors, such as no touching buildings or people. When we finally ended our hike, words cannot describe the relief I felt, both physical and mental!
Our next leg of the journey was another night bus, this time to Mcleodganj, the home of the Dalai Lama in exile. While not a particularly hilly place, our trek caught up to us and every step we came to in this Tibetan flavored town might as well have been Mt. Everest. The icing on the top of the cake was when Julie and I went to a meditation class. The teacher met us near his place so he could show us the way which ended up being 10-15 minutes of climbing stairs, and I'm not exaggerating. Sore muscles aside, Mcleodganj was an amazing place that had a completely different feel than any other place we've visited so far. It rained just about every day we were there which was actually quiet welcome because that, along with the cold air, gave me the autumn I've been missing.
Lastly, we took yet another night bus to Shimla, a hill station and once winter home of the British Raj. Let me emphasize "hill." The town recreated our trek in the Himalayas so our poor legs did not get any rest. Because I was only there for one day and was trying to give my legs as much rest as possible, I didn't see the huge Hanuman (the monkey god) statue that overlooks the town and just tried to relax a bit. And it worked! By the time I got back to Kolkata, my legs were recovered and I didn't have to hobble into class the next day :-)
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