“Once you figure out who you are and what you love about yourself, it all sort of falls into place.”
Mountains make for great camping, and great camping makes for one happy girl. The last few months have not gone as planned. First I had to leave the high altitude mountain trek I was so excited about, and then, because Kevin was still sick, we basically spent the last two months in a room, in hot and humid cities, with obnoxious men, constant noise, and absolutely nothing to enjoy. But now, life is back to being perfect because I’m finally back in the mountains.
“…We become focused on the small things, the specifics, the politics and bickerings of daily life. We forget the important questions – about what it means to exist, to be happy, to explore our world and universe.”
Srinagar is considered the summer capital of this state and is said to be an astounding and beautiful place. In fact, because of its great reputation, thousands of Indians from all over the country flock to this city everyday to enjoy its wonders. Before arriving I had seen photos of houseboats quietly floating in the river, and small boats paddling in an open and serene lake. Kevin had even seen a documentary depicting it as a secluded piece of paradise.
The Kashmir valley is a gigantic green expanse of land winding through the Himalayas in Northern India following the Pakistani boarder. It is an absolutely beautiful area, a sanctuary of nature and tranquility in such an overpopulated country. Like Ladakh, Kashmir and Jammu are disputed territories, but unlike the Buddhist Ladakh which is comprised of Tibetans, Kashmir hosts Muslim Arabs who would much rather be part of Pakistan.
“You live your life and tell me it can’t be done, I’ll live mine and show you it can.”
There are girls with burkas running arm and arm with each other down the street surrounded by men in flowing grey, white, and black outfits. Colorful headdresses have replaced saris, and Arabic is seen instead of Hindi on posters and signs. In everything but name, being in Jammu is a bit like being in Pakistan (alright, a much less controlled Pakistan that is). This predominately Muslim area is part of the disputed territories, a region in northern India which borders Pakistan where many of the “Indian” inhabitants would rather be part of their neighboring country instead.
“Travel is about the gorgeous feeling of teetering in the unknown.”
There are some nights that stay with you forever, here is the tale of ours.
They found us. Kevin jumps out of the tent with his small machete in hand to greet whoever has been shinning a frighteningly bright light straight at our tent for the past hour. It’s eleven p.m. and we are trying to sleep in a field in Punjab, a northwestern state of India. We have already had to move once, just a field over and behind a wall, to get rid of annoying young Indian men who would sit around watching us and laughing. They never frightened us, harmless bored men with nothing better to do, but it was frustrating none the less. Now though, it’s a different story.
“Don’t settle down and sit in one place. Move around, be nomadic, make each day a new horizon.”
Besides the Golden Sikh Temple, the other tourist attraction in Amritsar is the changing of the guards ceremony that takes place every night between India and Pakistan, a border that is only thirty kilometers outside of Amritsar. Now, “changing of the guards” brings to mind a serious and important ceremony, at least in my mind, but I quickly realized that it was anything but that.
“Stop waiting for Friday, for summer, for someone to fall in love with you, for life. Happiness is achieved when you stop waiting for it and make the most of the moment you are in now.”
Arriving in Amritsar, a large punjabi town that boarders Pakistan, was like arriving in Heaven. After leaving on a sour note six months ago I was wary to re-enter a country I considered unjust and evil. Instead of the hostile stares and harassment I was so accustomed to receiving in the East, I was welcomed in by the friendliest and kidndest group of Indians possible, the Sikhs. It wasn’t an “I want your money” friendly like in Nepal, or a “oh my God it’s a westerner lets touch her” like in many parts of India, but rather a “hey, we are an extremely open and friendly group of people who want to make you feel completely at home just because we can.” Seriously, every time I looked a bit lost on a street corner (something that happens a lot let me remind you) I immediately had a smiling man in a beautiful turban asking how he could be of service. And if he didn’t speak English, he immediately signaled someone else to come help as well.
After visiting the Sikh temple one afternoon we decided to cycle through town at night in order to experience the beautiful grounds in the dark and at sunrise. We arrived just in time for morning prayer, after which everyone walked around the temple, prayed, bathed in the water, then proceeded to the free “kitchen” for tea. It was an amazing experience, in part because the buildings themselves are so beautiful, but also because the people were so welcoming. It was also astonishing how well everything worked. It was extremely clean (remember, this is India, things are NEVER clean)
and everything was run by volunteers meaning there was no money, power, or corruption involved. It was a utopia of sorts, the perfect example of a beautiful peaceful place for people from around the world to gather.
I agree with the Sikhs on many of their principles- equality (they don’t believe in the caste system), women’s rights, and peace for starters, and visiting their town and temple has given me an even greater respect for them. Plus, this was the perfect way for Kevin and I to restart out trip after the last two months of dealing with his different illnesses (which, by the way, are officially cured). We were finally able to cycle around town, eat new and delicious foods, and enjoy ourselves at the farm house we were lucky enough to land on couchsurfing. Now we are back on the road, headed up to Jammu, another boarder town with Pakistan, which is predominately Muslim.
“The core of mans’ spirit comes from new experiences.”
Those damn rats! Their tiny pitter-patter is multiplied into a roaring thunder, at least to my sleep deprived brain, as they scurry to and fro on the tin metal roof above my head.They have kept me awake all night, though I silently acknowledge that they aren’t the only reason I can’t sleep. There is also a passed-out drunk Indian lady curled up half-on half-off the blanket we are using as a bed, and someone is rattling the scrap piece of metal that doubles as a door to the shack next to mine.
I am sleeping in an Indian slum, one of the last places in India you would expect to find a young Western girl who is traveling solo.
‘One of the greatest tragedies in mankind’s entire history may be that morality was hijacked by religion.’
Through Heaven and Hell recounts my scariest moment, when I was followed and stopped by multiple Indian men who had less than chivalrous intentions when they trapped me. Thankfully a lovely Sikh grandpa came to my rescue and was able to keep me safe for the night.
“Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence.”
India was tough, very tough in parts, and by the end I can truthfully say I hated it. Now that the adrenaline of fear has ebbed away I am able to look back, in retrospect, at the amazing families who adopted me into their homes and villages.
The Wandering Nomads 