Dream, Plan, Travel, Repeat.

Remember my bodily complaints section from my second posting? Well, I have an update.

Apparently, Matteo wasn’t the only person who ended up feeling sick in Manali a few days ago. I became sick as well, and spent a night hugging my toilet. (Thank god it wasn’t a squat toilet, ’cause that could’ve been really ugly.) Then, yesterday, I popped a whole lot of Pepto-Bismol and grabbed a bag to throw up in before getting on a 15-hour bus ride to Delhi. (It was originally 12, but the drivers took their time.) Which, as I’m sure you can imagine, was a lot of fun. And then, after going straight to the Delhi bus station, I waited for 4 hours before traveling on to Agra because my 3-hour train ride was delayed by 3 hours.

I guess getting sick was bound to happen sooner or later. At least my body picked a convenient time. …

But things are starting to lift up. I had my first full meal today, and it wasn’t at just any restaurant. It was on the roof of my hotel, which has a spectacular view of the Taj Mahal. As long as I keep the meal down, I predict that tomorrow will be an excellent day.

I was supposed to leave the Himalayas for Delhi today, but Matteo ended up feeling sick (not very sick, but enough to dread a 12-hour bus ride) and we decided to stay in town until tomorrow and spent the day resting in our hotel room. So, just as I was starting to get used to writing about my adventures on a daily basis (I’m really trying to make a habit of it- I promise!), I now have nothing exciting to say about my day. Bah.

Instead, here are some random observations about my current environment:

Clouds can make entire mountains disappear. Like I said before, I have this amazing view from the balcony of my room. And each morning, the view changes- sometimes mountains that were previously covered in fog appear, and others become hidden. It’s like I’m waking up in a different place each time.

Also, when you approach borders, people’s looks begin to change. I’m so close to Tibet and China right now, and I’ve noticed that the people who live here have a blend of Indian and Asian features. The men and women dress differently too– both wear knitted sweaters or vests to keep away the cold, while women cover their heads in colorful scarves and men wear these great round caps that for some reason makes me think of Tajikistan…even though I know absolutely nothing about Tajikistan, or even if men there wear caps like that. But going on… Women also wear more jewelry than the women I’ve seen in the south and across the plains– often they have their noses pierced on both sides and I have even seen a few older women with their septums pierced.

There is also a large Tibetan community in the mountains and lots of Buddhist monks wandering around in crimson and orange robes. Many of the older generation fled to India after China invaded their country in the 1950s. Now, after escaping the Chinese to protect their culture, their Indian-born children are seemingly adopting a very Western style of dress and attitude from the many hippies who come to the mountains in droves to obtain some sort of spiritual enlightment, form drum circles, and smoke lots and lots of marijuana. (Apologies to all those reading this blog right now who fit that description. There’s just something about all the Bob Marley posters and shady Indian men asking me if I smoke and such that makes me roll my eyes. I know, I’m so square.)

***

An aside to my comment about Buddhist monks: I think I was cussed out by one today, and I honestly doubt that the Dalai Lama would have approved of his behavior. I was standing in front of a shop and the monk approached me, asking for money in a pushy way. I didn’t give him any (perhaps sparking some huge karmic retribution in the future?) because I have a thing against spiritual men who don’t appear to be very spiritual. And then he started yelling at me in a language I couldn’t understand. But, he was a jerk to some Indians who were around me as well, so I’m just going to write it off as a bizarre experience involving a disturbed man.

***

In short, sometimes it feels like I’m in a different country. Which is fascinating. I’m glad that I ended up coming to India during the hottest time of the year, because if I hadn’t I wouldn’t have been able to come to the mountains– they would have all been covered with snow. Everything always works out so well in life.

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