“Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.”
India and Nepal are very similar. Many of the differences I have previously pointed out – eating with your hands, squatting, no personal space, burping and spitting… – are the same in Nepal. Here are a few more (that apply to India as well) to add to the growing list.
“It’s okay pluto, I’m not a planet either.”
I was going to make a list of the gear I couldn’t live without, but the list was pretty boring and predictable… Sleeping bag, Birkenstocks, camera… You get the picture. So instead I started to pay attention to the little things I use, things you wouldn’t necessarily think of bringing, but that end up making a difference.
“Live your dream and share your passion.”
Just before heading into the mountains I did two different home stays. First, I stayed with a family who invited me in after I bought oranges from them. There were five children in the family, plus a cousin or two who seemed to live there as well, making for a busy household. They described themselves as Nepali middle class (everyone is very aware here where they stand in society), and though they don’t have much money to spare, all of the children attend (or attended) a private English medium school in order to ensure a future for them. The three girls did everything, the laundry, cleaning, cooking, and running the small fruit stand they owned. The two boys on the other hand just got to run around and play all day. I definitely think they got the better deal! I then stayed with one of their neighbors, a wealthier family who was very nice and made me feel at home without it being overwhelming.
“There are dreamers and there are doers, but what the world needs are dreamers that do.”
Everyday is different. Sometimes I cycle all day, while other days I will only do a few hours in order to spend the rest of the day doing something else. And somedays, I don’t cycle at all. Weather also plays a large role. If it is hot for instance, I do most of my kilometers in the morning, whereas in the mountains it is hard to get motivated at six when it is still below freezing out. That being said, everyday is pretty similar in many ways too, so I have decided to show you what a “typical” day of cycling looks like for me in the Nepali valley.
“You go, you explore, you see, you do, you get, you experience. But still whatever it is, isn’t enough. Every new day, you go, you explore, you see, you do, you get.. you experience.”
After staying with a family for one night in one of the small farming villages — I asked to use their water pump and got invited in — I made my way up and down the hills to where I would begin my climb into the mountains. I spent a few days riding through a national park which meant my only companions were monkeys, as almost no one lives in the area. In fact, I would often go over an hour without seeing another person or car. When I did come to a village, it consisted of small mud houses with thatched roofs, and lots of goats, cows, and ox. It was the kind of place where little five year old girls could climb up a tree with no branches in order to cut limbs off of a tree fifty feet up for her goats. I thoroughly enjoyed the area, and stopped off whenever I could to buy a chocolate bar or a cup of tea in order to hang around for a bit.
“…It’s to shake off this erroneous notion that life is there and you’re just gonna live in it, versus embrace it, change it, improve it, make your mark upon it.”
I love Nepal. I am finally able to camp again, I am no longer followed by young sleazy adolescents, and I can live off of bananas, juicy oranges, and of course, rice, dal, and samosas, for only three dollars a day. Though I am still anxious to get to the mountains (I can see the start of them to my left at all times, talk about tantalizing!), I am enjoying all the small farming villages I have been passing through these last few days. Nepal is obviously poor, even more so than India, but the people are beautiful and smiling which is what counts. Hundreds of children wave and follow me daily (no joke, I swear every child has a “white cyclist radar” and is able to sense me coming from kilometers away), and most of the women smile and wave as well. Even the old wrinkled grandmas hobbling slowly down the road carrying who knows what in a giant basket on their head stop to smile and wave, something that never happened in India. Though it is still impossible to do anything without a crowd, at least it is always a friendly one.
“History is made by those who break the rules.”
I noticed straight away after riding across the border that there were no cars in Nepal. I am on the one highway that goes through the area, yet there are only pedestrians, motorcycles, cyclists, and of course, a few ox. Oh, and army trucks, an awful lot of army trucks. Though I probably should have realized that was unusual, once you are on the road for enough time, you stop being surprised by anything. Turns out this wasn’t normal for Nepal though, and the reason there were no cars, buses, or trucks, is because Nepal is “closed.” Though I had heard this from a few Indians before arriving, when those same people are the ones telling you that Nepal doesn’t have any mountains (guess Everest is yet to be discovered!), you take everything with a grain of salt. Turns out that they were right on this one though.
“Life is about the people you meet, and the things you create with them, so go out and start creating.”
“We have a small house, but very big hearts,” the enthusiastic twelve year boy told me moments after his sister (who I had stopped to buy bananas from) brought me home to my first Nepali family. And he couldn’t have been more right. The family was poor, farmers with little more than a roadside stand and a small country house (the kind I have been eyeing longingly) to their name, but I have yet to meet someone anywhere in the world happier than Lokraj, my new little brother for the next few days. His sister, the one who invited me here, is a beautiful laughing girl herself, and the family quickly became my favorite one I have stayed with so far. The children’s mother and father are old, old enough to be their grandparents (I wonder if maybe that is the case), and absolutely wonderful people as well.
“You all laugh because I am different. I laugh because you are all the same.”
Here are a handful of my favorite shots from cycling through Northern India.
“Every trip to a foreign country can be a love affair where you’re left puzzling over who you are and whom you’ve fallen in love with…”
Culture
India is… Well India. It is dirty, it is beautiful. It is chaotic, busy, and tranquil. It is frustrating yet rewarding. It is rude and friendly, peaceful yet scary. And it is everything in between. There are Hindus, colorfully dressed in beautiful saris and suits. There is a wonderful Sikh community, easily spotted because of their colorful turbans and peaceful nature. There are Muslims wearing full burkas, and there are Buddhist, especially in the mountainous regions where many Tibetan refugees live. There is extreme poverty. Children running around cities without clothes, begging for a bite to eat. There are also beautiful farming communities where everyone is self sufficient. Part of what makes India so interesting and immense is how culturally diverse every area is. Though there are many similarities throughout, the clothing, attitude, type of house, and lifestyle changes dramatically every few hundred kilometers, as if you have just entered into a whole different country. It is impossible to know India, it is impossible to even scratch the surface, which is part of the reason why India holds such appeal, especially to us cyclists.
The Wandering Nomads 