A Motorbike Adventure, and Kashmiri Hospitality

The countdown is moving faster all the time! I'm now in my last 48 hours in McLeod Ganj. It's amazing how you can feel like you're getting things done but once the deadline gets close enough, it seems like there's no way you'll accomplish everything you want to before you go.

Yesterday I went on an adventure with Neil. I know early on I swore I'd never get on a motorbike here in India, but the circumstances were such that I decided I'd take my chances in this particular instance. We rode the back way out of Lower Dharamsala, where I'd never been before, through a little village called Khanyara, and into the mountains. When the road got bad enough we were worried about the bike surviving the trip, we parked it and walked the rest of the way.

We found a valley full of slate (I think?) with a river at the bottom. We made our way down to the river where we took photos and video of the rushing water before finding a big, flat rock to use as a picnic area and eat our lunch. It's pretty amazing... looking at the way the rocks in the sides of the valley had clearly moved due to some kind of tectonic activity at one point or another was stunning. Millions -- billions -- of shards of rock littered the ground; it was like a geological boneyard. Standing there pondering this, I couldn't help but think that nature is so huge and so incredible, the sheer randomness of everything that happens in the world is poetry on a huge scale. In the grand scheme of things, none of it means anything... and yet there is such detail and such beauty and such intricacy that it feels like there's no way we could possibly ever discover everything there is to see.

The world felt enormous beyond comprehension.

A gigantic boulder "menacing the path," as Neil said.

Can you see the caves?

As it has since I returned from Rajasthan, once the sun goes down the temperature drops ten degrees within a matter of minutes, and then keeps on going. We rolled back into McLeod Ganj bundled up in multiple layers. The guys at New Varuni House, where I'm staying, had invited me for dinner around 8/8:30. At about ten after I got a call on my room phone informing me that food was ready and I should come downstairs.

I should know by now that the Indian definition of "come for dinner" is a bit different from the American one. What they meant was "Come down for snacks, drinks, and conversation, and we'll have dinner in a couple of hours." Regardless, I had a good time hanging out with Sanjay and Anil as we talked about all kinds of things. Apparently the Kashmiris are known for their hospitality, and these guys definitely lived up to the standard. We had aloo gobi (that's potatoes & cauliflower for those of you less familiar with Indian food), a chicken dish that isn't on the menu, and chapatti (roti/bread). I mentioned that they didn't offer channa masala on the menu (chickpeas) and that it's my favorite -- Sanjay told me that as a matter of fact, they bought some channa earlier and they'd be happy to make it up for me before I left.

So that's what I'm getting ready to do right now: go down and have some channa masala made just for me. :3 If last night is any indication, I won't be making it back to my room until midnight or so, so I'd be wise to tidy up a bit before I go. My bus ticket is booked for Wednesday evening, I finished all but the last few tiny bits of shopping today (Sanjay even offered to drive me out to Bhagsu to look for one piece in particular), and so I figured I'd start packing. I'm pretty sure by the time I give most of my old clothing to some of the locals and toss things I neither want nor need, I should be able to fit everything else into one checked bag, a carry-on, and a personal item (admittedly one that just barely falls within the measurement restrictions).

Earlier today I met Kalden and Van for lunch since Van was all set to leave for Delhi this evening. One by one, the volunteers are leaving. I was one of the first to get here and it seems I'm the last to leave. I've been saying goodbye to all the friends and acquaintances I've made here; there are a handful of people I wish I'd gotten to know better, earlier. So it goes. I guess it gives me extra incentive to come back.

There's more to a good restaurant than good food

One of the fancier hotels in our area has a new chef who is redoing the menu. Apparently the owner is friends with Brij, and she asked him to invite some of his fellow teachers for a tasting. How fun, right? We thought so too. So that's what we did last night: at 8pm the six of us wandered on down to Villa Paradiso for dinner.

It was definitely some of the best food I've had here. Honestly, it was some of the best food I've had, period. There was a dish with "aubergines" and apples, a savory pear selection, and some others that were closer to traditional Indian food with chickpeas (channa) and flatbread (roti). The chef had made a chicken pasta dish that was damned tasty, and apparently the mutton was good too, but I didn't have any. I felt just a little bit like a judge on Iron Chef. I think this is fun.

This morning Marie went down to another of the very local cafes, where she captured this image:

Do you see it?

It's blurry, but yes, it's a rat. What can I say? Standards vary.

Then tonight Marie, Gill, and I headed over to Jimmy's Italian restaurant in McLeod Ganj. Marie had come here earlier in the week and said the food and wifi were good, so we figured we'd check it out. Soon after sitting down, Rinzin and Gustie came in with a student and so we all sat and had dinner together.

Jimmy's Italian: hands down the absolute worst service to date. I think it even beats (in a bad way) the abysmal service we got in that St. Louis IHOP on our way home from Winter Warpdrive last year. However! The food was actually some of the best I've found so far here in town. Conundrum....

This is even considering that in India typical restaurant service includes a server who doesn't pay any attention to you until you go out of your way to gain his or her attention. Furthermore, most places are not very good about getting all the food at a table out at the same time. If your server delivers your food and no one else's, you might as well get started because if you don't, it'll be cold by the time the rest of the food comes out. Everyone seems to understand and accept this and so far I haven't had anyone offended by everyone not eating at the same time. Asking for a glass of water and never getting it, though, and even ordering dessert and having to remind the server again 10 minutes later because everyone else's food has come out and your two scoops of ice cream are nowhere to be seen... that's not exactly acceptable customer service.

We are now making up for it by using all their internets. Balance is restored.

In which I eat real tandoori chicken

A trip to Lower Dharamsala was made today, and Brij took us to what he has proclaimed to be one of his very favorite restaurants in the area: a place tucked back behind the main road where he could eat every day and never get tired of it. I have no idea if the restaurant even has a name... I imagine it does, but that sort of thing doesn't seem to be so important around here.

Fresh meat market. Not my usual kind of place, but thankfully it wasn't exceedingly gruesome.

Real Indian tandoori chicken, naan, and fixin's.

We ordered tandoori chicken with naan and some rice, and as in most restaurants here, we got a plate of sliced red onions to go with the meal.

No, I do not eat much meat. I was feeling like I could use some protein, though, and I figured I'm in India – tandoori chicken is one of those things that just seems like part of the experience. Furthermore, as far as I can tell there are no such things as factory farms here, and none of the meat I've seen since I got to India has looked like it was on any kind of hormones.

Let me tell ya... it was pretty damn good. That poor little chicken, at least, did not die in vain. Its sacrifice was very much appreciated.

After lunch we moseyed through town and Marie and I stopped in practically every fabric store we saw – which was close to a dozen of them – because she wanted to have a salwar kameez (traditional Indian dress) made and I was looking for fabric for a chupa (traditional Tibetan dress). I think I found some that I really like. Since I'll be here a while yet I decided to sleep on it before I bought anything. I really wish we had fabric stores like these near home in the States. They're like candy stores for us textile-aphiles. Marie and I decided we'd go back down sometime, just the two of us, and take our sweet time perusing the fabrics when we didn't have other people to worry about boring.

Now THAT is what I call a selection of colors!

The pretties! Look at them!

On our way down to the bus/Jeep stop to head back to McLeod Ganj, we spotted this little gem. The photo op was too good to pass up.

Isn't this a nice pic, Brandi? It made me think of you. <3

In other news, my knee is nearly healed up, I decided to cover up some of the stubbornest dirt on my walls with what we'll call a mural, and Brij has given me two and a half more pages of Hindi vocab to study. There has also been talk of travel for the next few weekends, and hopefully it will involve dancing! Stay tuned for details.