Goa #2 - Return to the Beach

It's been quite a few days since my last post explaining the adventure in the Himilaya's of India's Northeast. Following our return to Mumbai from Kolkata, we spent a few days relaxing and recouperating before boarding yet another train to head down the Southwest coast of the country to Goa. I had first exerperienced Goa early in my Indian travels back in January where my relatives and I did a small stint in the land of sun and sand. It seemed alomst fitting that I should spend the last leg of my journey in a place where it had started, but this time with a good friend to assist in the beach activities and nightly outings.

Upon our return to Mumbai we immediately ran into trouble booking our return flights home as we discovered that there were not as many open seats between Mumbai and Canada which meant moving our departure days ahead wouldn't be as easy as first thought. With a lot of conversations and countless phone calls and emails, we finally sorted our departure dates out, more or less. The downside was that we need to leave later than hoped (Dev on the 22 and myself on the 25th of April), but the upside being that we now had some more time to spend in the tropical zone.



Our whole time in Goa was patched together with a somewhat steady routine of going out to the beach, spending time in the ocean, dropping in on a socer game, eating out, catching a movie on the tv and exploring some of the nightlife. There wasn't too many exciting occurances which stand out, it was simply relaxing.

One of the the highlights which I should mention was the return to the secluded beach, and this time I was equipped and ready with my camera. Dev and I took the scooter for the drive down Baga rd and over the bridge in order to follow the road close to the hill-point.



We dismounted and followed the dirt path aroud the side of terrain where land met sea and were soon gazing upon the secret site where orange-red sand pushed past the black rock which gaurded the coast. Little did I know that around the corner was a less than positive surprise.



In the about three month span since I lasted visited my private haven the scenary had changed. The pleasant beach shack which had served tasty snacks and tropical drinks had found its doom. Whether it be by a storm that flexed it's might on the out-of-sight location, or a lack of business that forced the establishment to close down, all that was left was a metal frame, scattered construction materials, and a working crew of around 5 or 6 that seemed more kin to relaxing in the shade than doing anything constructive. None-the-less, the beach remained, and we made the most of the journey by taking a dip in the warm water mindful of the strong, and historically deadly, undertow.

After a short time of water sport we decided to push our adventure further along the coast and up to the hill which looked down onto us. It was hot out, very hot, and we didn't bring any water. In addition to the pestering of the heat I had a 'wadrobe malfunction' of a less riskay kind. My sandal which I had previously repaired via needle and thread a night or two earlier had decided it couldn't withstand the uphill slope and relentless heat of the red-stained ground beneath it. Upon further inspection of the footwear it was revealed that, to my surprise, it was not the thread which was the cause of the crippling of the shoe, it was the rubber that had torn apart around the thread and broke free. I smiled slightly knowing I had at least been successful in my efforts to repair it. In the end I managed a crappier repair job that continously caused trouble along both the ascent and descent.

When Dev and I reached the top we were greeted my a couple successes. One, the wind was blowing off of the ridge below us and provided us with a much needed cool-down. Second, there were 2 paragliders who were soaring above us and winding back and forth along with the wind currents. It was spectacular. A man, some rope and a parachute-like glider. Simple.





It just seemed like such a sight of freedom. Man conquoring the sky. I was inspired. We soon rushed back from the ridge along the dirt path along the coast to the nearest shoreline shack that served cold drinks. I promtly drank the best tasting Pepsi of my life followed by a litre of water. We drove away and carried on with our day which lead to a few drinks at a local pub with some new friends.

I hope one day I can make it back to my secret beach and hopefully find a new beach shack in place of the last. I think I might even look into acquiring a new sport and hopefully when I'm back I'll be the one feeling the updraft on a hot tropical day.

Future Travels:
-Back to Mumbai
-VANCOUVER!!!
-Okanagan

Lessons Learned:
-Take the road less traveled, then come back and take it even further. There's always more to discover, and always new heights to fly to.

On the Mind:
-Getting Home
-Volcanos!
-The importance of perspective

Kanchenjunga - Challenging Peaks

After arriving in Darjeeling we were keen to discover some of the northern activities we knew existing in the area - whitewater rafting, hangliding and trekking. Unfortunately, the current season produced low water levels which are poor for rafting and the sky was consistently hazy in the area designated for hangliding and thus produced a bad view. So we were left with trekking. Originally we thought that we might do a small trek of 2 to 5 nights and then get onto the other activities. In the end we were faced with a slight abundance of time and nothing else to do except venture through the local mountain terrain.

After visiting many tourist offices trying to find a good bargain on trekking we ended up in the Sikkim tourist office not a minute before the lady working at the desk was set to depart for the evening. After a few minutes of talking she convinced us that the best bet was the 10 day trek in West Sikkim to the Goecha La lookout point near Kanchenjunga - the 3rd tallest mountain in the world. She forwarded us onto a preferred agency and we met with the manager within the hour. When all was said and done Devin and I were set to embark on the trek but to do it in 8 days. In the days to follow we tried (although not too hard) to find some other travelers to accompany us so that we could lower our costs as well as have some more people to adventure with. The morning before we were set to leave we felt out of chance to find some more trekking partners and conceeded to do the journey as a pair. But, as fate would have it, that morning we found out that 3 other travelers were interested in the trek. After some sweet talking and money dealing we managed to secure our 5 man team which consisted of two Canadians and three Germans. Soon after we packed our bags and met up with our guide, who was curiously named Summit. He was a young guy who spoke good english and had a nack for entertaining Devin's shenanigans - a good mix. Before too long we were all in a jeep headed to our departure city of Yuksom where we spent a night before loading up the yaks with our bags and heading towards the mountains.



Our first day started off well. We were all energized and excited for the journey before us. The scenery was foggy but nicely set on the mountainside with the trail being cut into the side of the rolling hills with a steep lesson awaiting those to ventured too far to the edge. After a few hours and a few more bridges we reached our final ascent for day 1. It was probably one of the biggest challenges of the trip - a steep graded hill that used a traversing trail to climb some 800 + meters all at once. Devin and I made it following many breaks and a change in climbing style that sided more with sprinting than casual trekking. The top was covered with dense fog but offered some comfort within a trekking cabin perched on top of the hill among a handful of houses and animal enclosures. Our first sleep was a little uneasy with 5 of us laid out hotdog style in one room each zipped up tight in our respective sleeping buns. It was not the most comfortable arrangement which led to a difficulty in falling asleep, but it was more than expected and definitely got easier as the nights rolled past.

Day 2 was a good day. We woke up to sunshine which had expelled the surrounding fog to reveal sharp white-capped mountains in the distance. We ate breakfast outside and prepared for our second ascent. The morning before I had awaken with a slight off feeling in my tonsils and on day 2 my throat was feeling a little more off-normal. I didn't think too much of it, I had a mountain to climb and the priority was putting one foot in front of the other until I reached 5000m. The hike on day 2 was no doubt the hardest in terms of grade but it was also one of the most beautiful with it being the time of year that Rhododendrons are in bloom and filled the surrounding scene with shades of pink and red.



On our way back down we had seen in more detail how far we had actually climbed upward on day 2, it was impressive. Devin and I were a little more than embarassed at our lack of courage on the last leg of the first day (we came up last by about 15-20 minutes). One of the german girls had made fun of Devin, and Tom, the male German had said something along the lines of "Yes, well you do have more insulation" to me. Which was more than enough 'encouragement' for the both of us. I put myself in 'the zone' and trudged up the winding rocky trail with devin close behind. Needless to say we pushed past our German companions to reach our day 2 summit well ahead of the group and claim the 3800m mark for the Canadians. High fives all around.



The next couple days for me was metaphorically downhill and literally uphill - I got sick. At first it seemed something of a cold accompanied by a fever and some mild joint weakness. By day 4 I was intermittently coughing and using most of my packed toilet role to blow my nose. On the night before Day 5, which was the day we were supposed to reach our final height of 5000m I awoke early before our 3:30am wake up call to find out that I felt like trash. I was coughing more now and the weakness extended to both my muscles as well as joints. When I would breathe in deep I could feel the bubbling of the liquid in the bottom of my lungs. I had been there before - Pneumonia I thought. It was clear that I wasn't in any severe state, but the mild occurance would be more than enough to make me think hard about pushing myself to the top, which probably wouldn't of happened no matter how much I willed it, and also wouldn't have been fair to slow the rest of the group down. I sunk deeper into my sleeping bag at 3:40am when I felt the silence in the room as I explained that I wouldn't be accompanying the rest to the top. Defeat. The brightside is that after everyone had left on their way I had one of the best sleeps of the trip, although my morale had taken a hit and I would be lying if I didn't at one point in time wish someone would rush in with promises of a hot bath, a back rub and chicken noodle soup. Later in the day the group had returned with wonderful stories of the patch of good weather in the morning and all the great photos they took. And they were great photos. But as it was an experience I didn't experience I'll let Devin fill whoever is interested on the details of Day 5. My day simply consisted of sleeping in, drinking hot tea and sitting by the river watching the water pass my by.

After that day we made our descent down to Yuksom which proved to be the reverse of days 2 to 4 (Metaphorically uphill and literally downhill). I was still weak and i struggled to climb some of the ups which accompanied the downs. But I managed to perk up on the last day and pushed myself to keep up with the group and at times carry on with a faster pace than the rest. When we reached the starting town I still managed a strong sense of accomplishment. Although I didn't reach the top I still spent 7 amazing days in the wild with a great group of globe trotters. And at the end of the day I ended up losing some of the 'insulation' Tom spoke of as Devin and I both estimate a loss around 15 pounds or more, each. A good start to soccer season. And then as soon as it began it ended, we were back in a jeep headed out of the Himalaya's and back to the more southern Indian culture. With a couple layover days in Siliguri to do some much needed laundry and sort out some train tickets we were soon in Kolkata boarding our plane back to Mumbai, with a lot more memories on film and a little more to smile about.

For more pictures of the trek go here!: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2293540&id=122612113&l=4089547cab




Future Travels:
- Mumbai
- Goa
- HOME!

Lessons Learned:
- You can have the will of the world, but still be tripped by mountain-sized obstacles. Humility is not a lesson in shame, but a lesson in limits. Absorb the lesson and stick around to push the limits past 5000m another day.

On the Mind:
- When I'll be going home
- Dad and Uncle Michael
- The art of Humbleness

Darjeeling - A Hill Station

After Bodhgaya it was time for us to finally board the train to head up further North into India. By now I was a little dissapointed by not being able to travel up into the Northwest of the country to see Leh and Dharamsala. But, given that it was a good time of year to visit the Northeast, I was again hopefully of finding some peace and quite among the mountains.

After only one setback - a train delayed for 12 hours that resulted in one night slept in the Patna train station, we were on board the train for another 12 hours until we reached NJP and Siliguri from which we boarded a jeep for a spectacular ascent up into higher elevations. We probably climbed at least 1000m and saw some amazing views, which would have been 1000x better if it weren't for the fires burning in the valleys and winds pushing the smoke upward. Either way, both a literal and metaphorical breath of fresh air from the crowded and polluted cities we've ventured within so far.



With a few days to lay low and walk the steep streets of the city we were able to look into several options to occupy our time for the next couple weeks in the North. We managed to drink some excellent tea and sample some local cakes and cookies as well as dive into a pizza or two to taste a bit of home. One day we even managed to take the walk to the top of the ridge where we stumbled upon an all boys private school called St.Pauls where we managed to sneak into a game of cricket and shoot some hoops on a hill-top basketball court (2200m elevation!).



After sometime of adventure searching we have decided to go on an 8 day trek to the lookout point of Goecha La - a 5000m point with a view of the third highest mountain in the world - Kanchenjunga. I've never been on such a long trek, and especially at such high elevation. My stomach is a little light with anticipation, but I'm more than excited to take on the challenge which may be a once in a lifetime experience in the Himilayas.



Devin is with me and we have a stock of Candy and activities to keep us on track. Not to mention a new aresenal of woolen attire (Sweater, toque and gloves) to keep us warm in the freezing nights.

Stay tuned for a post-trip update and wish us luck!

Future Travels:
- Goecha La look out point
- Calcutta (flight to Mumbai)

Lessons Learned:
- always carry a flashlight at night in Darjeeling - the power WILL go out
- Don't wash your clothes without checking the weather - No sun = no drying.

On the Mind:
- Meeting Challenges
- Getting out of the smoke and seeing some beautiful mountain landscapes

Bodhgaya - The Heart of Enlightenment

A small temple beneath the Bodhi tree, Bodh Gaya, built in 7th century, after the original built by Mauryan Emperor Ashoka in 3rd century BC, ca. 1810

Following our departure from the Ganges of Varanasi we found ourselves on route to the small town of Bodhgaya. Simply put, the town was built around an important religious symbol - the Bodhi Tree, the site under which Siddhartha Gautama, the spiritual teacher and founder of Buddhism later known as Gautama Buddha, achieved enlightenment. As such, this historic place is now a popular destination for Buddhist followers making a pilgrimage, as well as foreign tourists hoping to capture a piece of history.

Here is the Wiki-short of the story:

According to Buddhist traditions, circa 500 BC Prince Gautama Siddhartha, wandering as an ascetic, reached the sylvan banks of Falgu River, near the city of Gaya. There he sat in meditation under a bodhi tree (Ficus religiosa). After three days and three nights of meditation, Siddharta attained enlightenment and insight, and the answers that he had sought. He then spent seven weeks at seven different spots in the vicinity meditating and considering his experience. After seven weeks, he travelled to Sarnath, where he began teaching Buddhism.

Disciples of Gautama Siddhartha began to visit the place where he had gained enlightenment during the full moon in the month of Vaisakh (April-May), as per the Hindu calendar. Over time, the place became known as Bodh Gaya, the day of enlightenment as Buddha Purnima, and the tree as the Bodhi Tree.

The difference between Varanasi and Bodhgaya was steep. The smaller town was much less busy and bustling, with only the rare rikshaw driver hassling you from afar. The place was also set in a much cleaner landscape with a fresher grade of air and less trash scattered among the streets and ditches. A cultural difference also existed, with the surrounding population being seemingly more peaceful and well kept. The heart of Varanasi lay in the flowing waters of the Ganges, where as the beating centre of Bodhgaya was the over-arching Bodhi tree and surrounding temple. A visit to tree was much more moving than that of the Ganges. Although the site is somewhat masked with a tourist veil compared to what it used to be, it hasn't lost the peaceful power which seem to flow from the roots of the large tree outward to its leaves which periodically get knocked down to earth following a rolling breeze. I can't begin to speculate as to what it might feel like to 'attain enlightment' but it must involve some higher level of mental clarity earned after spending a long time wandering the inner caverns of ones mind. The place is in itself truly peaceful, and it's easy to see how one could spend hours, weeks, months and even years under the Bodhi branches seeking such clarity.

In the short time that I did have at the site, I decided to sit down under the swaying leaves and seek a little slice of peace from our busy travels. I watched the tourists and traveling monks scramble (and at times compete) to catch the leaves which had freshly fallen. I sat cross-legged on a mat under the tree and was soon greeted by a canine local who wanted nothing more than a head scratch and friend to lay down beside. I stroked the fur of his forehead backward and coaxed him to lay down and rest his head on the mat in the adjacent empty space.



As he lay down (very content, as I am a skilled head-petter) I rest my hand on his fur covered chest and felt his heart beat within its cage. And as my thoughts were on pace with the beats I was soon surprised to find a leaf that had fallen and floated its way into the middle of my crossed legs. A smile swept my face and I grasped a small slice of clarity in perspective. The lesson hinged on the shortness of our time here on earth.

Our hearts are beating clocks caged in our mortality and counting down to an inevitable release.

Although we don't find ourselves under a Bodhi tree, searching our souls for enlightenment, each day, wherever we may be, we are challenged to navigate the caverns of our thoughts and emotions in the hope of achieving some level of clarity or enlightenment - a search for peace and happiness for ourselves, our loved ones, and all of humanity.

How far have you traveled today towards enlightenment?


Future Travels:
- Darjeeling (North East Hill Station)
- Sikkim
- Back to Mumbai

Lessons Learned:
- Stop and feel a beating heart other than your own - live knowing it will stop, love knowing one day it will be free

On the Mind:
- Mortality
- Inner Peace
- A Heart.

Varanasi - The city of souls

After being down and out with a stomach bug for the first 3 days in Varanasi, I was excited to get out of the hotel room and explore the city and its sights. The city, according to wiki, is said to be over 3000-5000 years old and as such is recognized as one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world, and the oldest in India. Varanasi is also known as a spiritual centre in India for many people, but especially those of Buddist, Hindu or Jains following. Here is an excerpt from the site, because they just get it more accurate than I would in my own words:

"Varanasi is a holy city in Hinduism, being one of the most sacred pilgrimage places for Hindus of all denominations. More than 1,000,000 pilgrims visit the city each year. It has the holy shrine of Lord Kashi Vishwanath (a manifestation of Lord Shiva), and also one of the twelve revered Jyotirlingas of Lord Shiva.
Hindus believe that bathing in Ganga remits sins and that dying in Kashi ensures release of a person's soul from the cycle of its transmigrations. Hindus regard Kashi as one of the Shakti Peethas, and that Vishalakshi Temple stands on the spot where Goddess Sati's earrings fell.[15] Hindus of the Shakti sect make a pilgrimage to the city because they regard river Ganga itself as Goddess Shakti. Adi Shankara wrote his commentaries on Hinduism here, leading to the great Hindu revival. Vaishnavism and Shaivism have always co-existed in Varanasi harmoniously.
Varanasi is one of the holiest places in Buddhism too, being one of the four pilgrimage sites said to have been designated by Gautama Buddha himself (the others being Kushinagar, Bodh Gaya, and Lumbini). In the residential neighborhood of Varanasi lies Sarnath, the site of the deer park where Gautama Buddha is said to have given his first sermon about the basic principles of Buddhism. The Dhamek Stupa is one of the few pre-Ashokan stupas still standing, though only its foundation remains. Also remaining is the Chaukhandi Stupa commemorating the spot where Buddha met his first disciples (in the 5th century or earlier, BC). An octagonal tower was built later there.
Varanasi is a pilgrimage site for Jains along with Hindus and Buddhists. It is believed to be the birthplace of Parshvanatha, the twenty-third Tirthankar. Islamic culture has also had an influence on Varanasi. There has been some degree of continuous tension between different religious communities in the city."

SO, for a city of such age, with such a rich blend of cultural and religious roots, I must admit that I had hoped for quite the moving experience. But, after entering the old city following the all too familiar rikshaw ride, the atmosphere became quite clear. It's busy, dirty, and full of locals waiting to pounce on unsuspected tourists. It wasn't different. Somehow I expected an energy to flow through the place, depicting the solid foundation of tradition. Instead, I tasted the familiar taste of pollution and dust. But that was only my first day, and I hadn't been down to the Ganges yet to see the Ghats or the many people who make the pilgrimage to the area. This morning Devin and I made the trip in the early hours to take a boat ride down the Ganges. As we descended the steep steps my eyes eagerly scanned the scene. It was definetly different than the old city streets, and it was clear that this was a more meaningful and peaceful place. But as soon as I got into the boat I noticed the tourists (like me). Boats and boats full of them, riding up and down the Ganges, for the same reason we did, to see what was going on, and take some pictures. It didn't sit well with me. A place where people came to die, or had made the journey after leaving this life to end their time in this sacred place. And now, people come and pay people to paddle them up and down the river to take endless shots of people and ashes (even though people are strictly forbidden to take photos of certain areas). After taking a few shots of the sun in the distance and the murky water I closed up my lens and packed away my camera. In a place that was built around the river as a symbol that gives so much to the people, a place so sacred it was the wish of millions to have their final remains drift away in the current, we were only giving coins in order to take away their experience. It didn't feel right. The city deserves more, the people deserve more. A sacred place where the water is no longer safer to swim in let alone drink.

It was clear that this place still held value, it is kept sacred by the people. But existing is also the feeling that something is now missing, lost with time and a lack of care from some. I ascended the steep steps once again and took one last look back knowing I'd probably never return to this place again. But the imagery in my mind will still linger for a long time.

Where are our sacred places? How do we treat them? whats the right price to sell its health for a picture? Don't millions of souls deserve more?

On being a half-indian in India

I'm not exactly sure how many times in the last couple days local Indians will talk to me and mention somewhere in the conversation how I look Indian, but do not sound or act Indian. Firstly, this is a big win as I tanned up and am sporting a nice travel beard with the hopes of fitting in better. Secondly it makes me feel really odd, for several reasons, some of which I'm sure I haven't figured out yet. In Canada I usually would get people being a little confused or unsure of what my genetic background was as there were many awkwardly initiated conversations with people wondering, essentially, why I look the way I do (which I suppose isn't really clear-cut defined in any standard race category..if I can put it like that). In Canada I'd hear things like "So what are you?" or "what nationality are you?". Again, sometimes it came out horribly awkward as some people just couldn't quite figure out exactly how to ask the question. The answer, if you were always wondering but never asked is as follows:

Nationality - I'm Canadian (although I have dual citizenship with the UK)
Genetic Makeup - My mom is Indian, from Bombay, and my dad is British. She's 100% dark-skinned, and my dad is 100% fair skinned. The way it seems to make the most sense to me is that I got more of my skin tone from my mother, and got more of the body tone from my father. I didn't, unfortunately, get his blue eyes however.

In Canada people seem interested because they couldn't figure it out, it was a puzzle, a mystery. In India, they can see I look Indian, but the puzzle is more of the cultural background. They want to know "Do you speak Hindi?", "Where is your mom from?", "Do you like Indian food?", "What do you think of India?". On some level I almost feel like an alien look-alike. Maybe a good analogy is the movie Avatar, where the soldier gets put in the native body, but doesn't really know much about the culture or the language. On some level I fit in, at least until I open my mouth. People seem to be comfortable around me as if I can bridge some gap across some ongoing curiosities they have between their world and that of the west. I guess it's just weird to me because my perspective is always to define myself through my culture and experience in the west. I grew up completely in a westernized culture and didn't really stop too many times in the mirror to think about how well I looked the part. I guess it opens up more questions than provides any answers. How much do people define me by the way I look? What about the way I speak and act? How much of us is seen, and how much is heard? And at the end of the day, do people really connect with us the way we think they do, or did we have it backwards the whole time?

Dubai - High hopes and higher skyscrapers

It's been a little while now since I spent a week in Dubai within the United Arab Emirates (UAE). Originally Dubai was my pre-designated hotspot for sights and inspiration. A city built seemingly overnight on the watch-clock of a hoard of immigrant workers. A modernized desert oasis conjured through international investment and a strong vision for a unique future. Dubai is a city that redefines what is possible, but more recently, stands as an example of why you shouldn't bite off more than you can chew. It's hard not to overshadow the infrastructural successes of Dubai by the overwhelming blundering of their economy which seemed to be based more on promises than anything else. One media release seemed to sum it up best when it referred to Dubai as a "monument to vanity and greed'. And there is no better example of this than the megaproject called Dubai World. The project, which begun with millions and millions of tonnes of sand being dredged from the ocean floor to in-fill land mass above sea level - essentially creating ocean-front property overnight - had to be stopped indefinetly after it was announced that they could not keep up with payments on some $22billion of debt accumulated throughout the project.



I can admit that I was certainly caught up in the "hype" of Dubai. At the end of the day the city didn't leave an impression of a fairytale desert city turned modern wonder but more of an image of a city that threw caution into the wind in pursuit of materialistic fame. When you get accustomed to the lavish face-lifted image (which still is very nice and on its own level, very impressive) that Dubai has developed, you can start to notice that the city lacks a soul - its void of a core culture. With the population being made up of a patchwork of Arab nationals and foreign workers, there isn't much existing to bring everyone together to build a strong cultural foundation. The foreign workers are lured there by fantasies of becoming rich and leading better lives, which most of the time I'm sure end up more untrue than otherwise. And the nationals seem content with riding the along with the tourist boom and cashing in some cows. With more shopping malls and hotels per square kilometer than probably anywhere else in the world, Dubai has built itself up as a city of transition. Like an eastern-set Las Vegas, people come to work, and play but never intend to linger too long.

Altogether it was a good trip, though. To finally see a place which you've heard so much about is always rewarding in its own way. It was good to float along the cityscape in Dubai's version of the Skytrain and take in the reality of the place. Although the city was less impressive as a whole than I imagined, there is still one aspect I can respect - the ability to have a vision aimed at creating something greater than exists today. At the end of a week it was easy for me to pack my bag with some lessons and fly forward into what awaited next.

Future Travels:
-India: Round 2 - Mumbai, Corbett Tiger Reserve

Lessons Learned:
-"Objects may appear larger than they are"
-Don't cash money out and put it in your wallet for the day. Carry it elsewhere, lest you lose it.

On the mind:
-Reality vs. Fiction
-What makes a great city great