Where ever you go… There you are.

This one is for The Dad.,
originally uploaded by jkomaromy.

If my dad was doing his job in India he’s get to drive this bitchin truck.

Surely this amuzes Dad.

love jessica


for some reason the picture is tiny…click on it to see the beauty of the TATA.

If I could only get the horn for homer, I would be the worlds greatest daughter:)

Full Power.

Is probably the best way to describe the madness of Varanasi. The cows grazing in the garbage piles in the street, kids flying kites on rooftops, bodies being carried through the winding back alleys towards the ghats, bells being rung at one of the thousands of temples that are around every corner. Queues of pilgrims holing their puja and singing songs for Shiva. (who founded Varanasi by the way) Sparkly bangle shops that line the street. I swear there is action everywhere you look. People going about their business drinking chai, buying vegetables from the old women who set up shop on burlap bags in the corners of alleys.

The holy men, the beggars, the chia wallas, heaps of tuk-tuks, rickshaws, pilgrims, dabas, women in the most amazing saris imaginable.

Full Power!!!!

Imagine a world without…
Supermarkets
24 hour electricity
hot showers
flush toilets/ or toilet paper for that matter.
Heating

I Love it, Love it, Love it.

Big plans for the next week. Heading to Saranath, where Buddha gave his first sermon. And then on to the Kumbha Mela.

The Kumbha Mela is the largest religous gathering in the world. Set in Allahabad at the confluence of three holy rivers – Ganga (Ganges), Yamuna and Saraswati.

According to traditions these holy rivers offers purity, wealth, fertility and wash away the sins of all those who take bath.

This should be interesting to say the least, there is no accomadation so it looks like camping out with the Pilgrims, and taking a bath in the Ganga..

Hot Diggity.
love, hugs and OM Shivas

jessica

Namaste my Lovelies..

This past week has been go, go, go!

Finally got out of dehli for a lovely detour up north to Rishekish and Haridawr, two very holy cities on the Ganges river, Up there at the beginning of the mountains the water is a clear aqua marine that becokns to be swam and bathed in. The sky, so blue and the air must have been the freshest I have ever smelt… With the lush green mountains on either side of the river, one could almost believe that this truly is a place of the gods.

Ours days spent walking along the ghats finding secrect coves among the bank in between huge polished boulders, perfect for gazing into the swirling eddies of the Ganga, the rushing water soothing the mind, and the soft mountain sunshine, warming the soul.. Yes I would reccomend Rishekish to anyone, especillay one who needs to find a little peace. It seems to emanate from here:)

I had to move on a bit quicker than I would have liked but,

Koi-bhaat- nehang

No worries..

sometimes you have to do little scouting missions and then head back (again ) to Dehli.

One wayward Nurse and Greg were waiting for adam and I when we arrrived from the single coldest night travelling on a train that I have ever encountered.. Tonight for our journey to Varanasi we have stocked up on fuzzy blankets and scarves..

Holy Shiva, this is India, who thought it could be so cold?

Varanasi will be full power.

Dehli times ten or so I am told..

I will let you know when I get there..

whooppieee!

Other than that, ended up finding the only Zen garden in Dehli by happenstance yesterday as well as the most posh and lovely garden filled areas.. Just when I thought Dehli was nothing but dust, fumes and rickshaws drivers, I get proved wrong massively.

Dehli isn’t so bad,

just really hard to leave and stay gone.

big love to everyone, see you on the other side.

I bet you all thought I had gone and dissappeared into the wilds of Nepal, well in some ways I did. I have been doing a bit too much on the internet these days and felt it neccassary to take a much needed break from it, Then I realized Christmas had past and now it is New Years without even a mention to anyone but the folks.. My Goodness! Not a way to treat the rest of my homies. So a big belated Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukka to everyone and of course as today is the day

Hapy New Years!!

So to bring you all up to speed, we last left off when I was heading west to Pokhara for a few days before going on to Lumbini.

Well, I ended up in Pokhara, met some lovely Kiwis and decided to stay put and make pancakes for Christmas dinner, instead of being lonely in Lumbini.

Then on the mission to the border we ran smack into the middle of a strike that had blocked traffic in either direction indefinatley. The stike was for the truckdrivers and they used there big tata trucks to make it imposible for anyone to get through unless on foot or bicycle.

So what to do?

Luckily a lovely man Vishnu had two bikes he needed to get back to his village and whoo-hooo I needed a way to get to the road! So we rode the bikes about 20km to his village. Within the abundant kindness of Nepalis he invited Kiwi and myself to stay the night and eat with his family..

At this point I knew I would be missing my rendevous with Ninja adam in Dehli, but staying with Vishnu made it all seem okay, I do believe things like these happen for a reason and of course you also learn important lessons about travelling these parts of the world..

Plan nothing, because the plan Always changes.

Always.

So long story short…

made it to Dehli (again) and finally made the rendevous with Ninja adam.. Now we are heading to Haridawar north of here and should be going to Varanasi in a week or so.

Promise not to be such a slacker in the future.

love jessica

****First Pictures!!****
Tibet!
I have also added a link to my nepal pics on the right hand side of the blog, in the future I will have them all nice and arranged, at least someting in my life will be organized 🙂

So it ended, after a few days at Grandmas’s house, we made for the border. Happily heading towards warmer skies, trees, Dahl Bhatt and kind smiles from the Nepalese people.

Being out of Nepal for a bit made me realize why I am so in Love with this country, could it be the happy people, or the waterfalls or mountains, or the no nonsence pleasure of taking a local bus, I am not really sure but a combination of all these things make it so darn irrestible.

I have been back in kathmandu over a week now, spending most of my time with ram-daii and his family. Ram owns a tiny little chai shop on Freak Street, (where I stay) not to worry mom and dad the “freaks” moved out in the late sixties… Now it just houses some of the smater travellers not willing to stay in uber touristy Thamel..

Indeed the size of a westerners closet. It is a hub of activity and the scenery is always changing.

I love people watching, sitting on a reed basket chair, drinking chai, watching the chess game of the shop owners, relaxing in the sun, as the world goes by.

old men with bright yellow tikas on their foreheads, walking with a cane eyes always down on the dusty street,

the mother sitiing with her son, and everyone doting on him

the sadhu with a big basket brimming with artifical flowers, extends his alms can hoping for a rupee.

Men in the back shout, and drink whiskey, waisting away the day betting on poker games

relaxed calls on mobile phones, from the shop owners also basking in the afternon sun

women with enormus baskets on their heads weave delicatley through the traffic,

mangy dogs piss on shiva’s lingum

workers piling dirt into a porter’s reed basket, he will bear the weight on his forhead and in with an extreme forward bend he will shuffle down the street,

I could stay here for ages and not get bored, but I need to get to India soon to meet Ninja Adam from London, so it would only be proper that I see a few things before I head that way.

I have a ticket to Pokhara tomorrow, from there I will head towards the border to Lumbini (buddha’s birthplace) to spend Christmas.

In Pokhara I intend to rent a bicycle and ride into the hills, taking in the mountains and peaceful atmosphere..

In Lumbini, I intend to hand out with monks and do all the neccessary koras. I thought I’d be sick of Koras and the like after Tibet, but I am still up for more, as a matter of fact this afternoon, I am going back to the Boudha stupa here in Kathmandu.

YAY! Koras

I just can’t seem to get enough of a good thing.

And I can think of many more things that are worse to be addicted to.

Until next time..

miss jessica

So the next two days, were in essence a race to the border, upon arrival we realized that there wasn’t much to do besides gaze at the moutains and find shelter from the dust storms.
It only made sence to get ourselves closer to the border since our Tension visa was almost up.

Luis and I made our stand outside, waiting once more (which would be our last waiting) for the damn bus, and when one did arrive, it was during such a furious dust storm that we ran gaily to the yellow beacon, sending sheep and yaks running.

Once aboard, our happiness deflated immeaditaly when the Chinese driver demanded 5 times the going rate for the trip to Nyalam. We pleaded, I put on the best pouty face possible, and begged… This was met with the helper opening the door and with the wind and dust outside still thrashing about, he made to throw our bags out.

NO!!! Guchi, Guchi, Please!! Please!!

Somehow we got the symathy of the passengers and begrudginly they lowered the price enough that we could still ride on. Luis had to stand the 2 hours and I sat on a little basket in the isle. Still we knew we were very, very lucky, and happy that we were not going to have to waste another day waiting for the bus.

I would have to say despite the poopy way in which it began, the ride itself was the most scenic and beautiful I have ever experienced, with the two passes to cross you are then faced with the most magical view of the Himalayas.

Once in Nyalam, we meet a woman who is leading her Yaks home. She gives us the you come sleep at my home sign language and we follow her home.. For 10yuan a night we are a guest at Grandmas house, everything you expect to have at grandmas too, plates of sweets, tea, tsamapa, and we even get tucked in at night. With thousands of blankets almost crushing us under the weight. Oh the love of Grandma..

Our last day in Tibet was spent on a mission to Mileripa’s Cave (the great Tibetan mystic of the 9th century who became an alchemist in order to kill is uncle who stole land from his family. And spent 6 years meditatiing in this cave living only on local weeds as a diet and wearing nothing but a cotton robe the whole time) The walk was 10km there and 10km back, of course someone would give us a lift one of the ways, but alas no one did and we ended up walking the full 20km, in the raging wind to see Mileripa’s cave which was not in my point of view worth it, but it was a lovely walk.

And sometimes I love complaining, but kind of fitting for the end of such a bitter-sweet month in Tibet.

After a much day of needed rest, we (luis, me, and the lovely french couple, jennifer and jullian) get up at the crack of dawn to catch yet another invisible bus to the crossroads some 7km away, hopefully from there we can catch a bus heading to Tingri, about 60kms aways.

The extension visa Luis and I had gained has now been renamed the “Tension Visa”, sure you can have the extra days but you will pay for it dearly, in mental health and in the pocketbook.

We do catch the bus to the cross thank goodness, and before the sun has properly risen, or the people for that matter, we retreat into a tea house, sheltered from the morning coldness,

we wait.

Outside the tea shop sits a group of nomads, warming their bo-cha (yak butter tea) on a yak chip fire. I have had enough of the conversation inside (do you think a bus is coming? When? How? AHHHH. I can almost take no more!) I decide to hang outside with the nomads, offering them cigarettes, I am instantly a good friend and within minutes, I am choking down bowls of butter tea, and chewy tsampa. With a big smile of course..

Trying to explain our situation in sign language, and still very limited tibetan. It seems that they are in the same situation waiting for a bus.. As the morning gets a bit warmer, I am antsy and break out the good ol frisbee for a little in the road pick up game. I start playing with Jullian, but then the nomads want to play, and we get a good toss in. I believe that would be the a first time a Tibetan has seen a frisbee, at least they are a bit more self-explanitory 🙂

While I have been playing, Luis has negotiated for a tractor to take us the 60kms south to Tingri.. That Luis, always on the move, had I travelled to Tibet alone I would have seen, much, much less.. Part of the deal is that we have to walk about 2km out of town, and then the tractor will take us. So we grab our packs and start the walk out of town..

Seated in the tractor, next to bags full of look-sha (a frozen dried sheep carcass) we ride the 60km to Tingri, in the backs of our minds something will go wrong, but this time it doesn’t and we are depostited in Tingri at a reasonable hour and, for the first hour while the rest are off looking for hotel rooms, I watch how they make look-sha,

When the sheep has been killed they pump it up with the air from a bicycle pump so the sheep looks very floaty, I think you could count these sheep as they drift above your head before sleep. Then, with the help of a little kid the dad cuts the skin away from the carcass and then it dries in the frigid air, becoming that delicious, dried meat Look-sha..

Yummy.

In Shegar things go on as I would guess they did hundreds of years ago, the local people use a horse and cart to get around.. The ponies are decorated with tassles and bells, a stiking resemblance to the owners themselves sometimes.

The men sit proudly with their hair braided with the dyed red yak wool and sheep horn that has been polished into a huge bead woven into their hair.

The children with painfully dirty faces and shy smiles sit with grandma in the cart, next to carcasses of Look-sha a freeze/air dried sheep cadaver(definatley an aquired taste.) and grain bags filled to the brim with yak chips for fuel.

Too many days of rushing here and there have taken a toll on my usual sunny dispostion, and a day in the mountains is always well appreciated, with a whole lovely day of not having to worry about how in the world we get to the next town before our deadline I am elated.

Do I see a Kora?!

YAY!

Slowly I make my way up the crevice of the mountain, pausing for breaths looking at the scenery unveiling itself as I climb higher. Carins on the right of the path to help find the way.

The path gets gnarlier and the breath gets shorter but the revealing montain tops with every step encourages me on the ascent.

At the top prayer flags are strewn between the peaks and the ancient Crystal palace looms above my head. I spend a while just looking at the valley and the tiny towns sprinkled throughout the horizon.

The kora leading down the mountain goes straight across a chilly mountain river and I am forced to go across with bare feet, December… Ice… Snow… Yikes! inviorgationg to say the least.

A lovely old woman in wellies helps take my hand as I fumble across, the other villagers look on amused as always, and with her help I am safely on the other side..

Later in the evening, I have a grand idea. The moon would be full and I climb to the top of a hill, high enough to overlook the city and have an unobrstucted view of the mountains,

As the sky begins to darken, the cold sets in and the stars begin to shine.

I sit shivering in the dusk.

But not for long, as the moons glow starts to light up the crystal palace and the hills behind me. I put on some music and start dancing to keep warm.

Hello solo-dance party.

My spirits are higher than they have been for days, a huge grin on my face awaiting the moon. I am thinking of my friends in London and Chicago, and looking around at the burningmanesque moonscape wishing they could be here with me dancing on this mountain.

The illuminatiion creeps in around me as I the only drum and bass track on my mp3player comes on and jump around like mad.. ps. adam please bring more drum and bass 🙂

A wild dog comes within a few meters of me, and sits down facing the ever lighiting mountians, no doubt awaiting the arrival of the moon..

Finally it happens. The moon appears as a sliver and then grows into a huge ball the man looking down at me.. He bathes me in a warm bluish light. My shadow becomes elongated against the peaks behind me, and I keep dancing until my battery runs out and I am forced to head down to town, full of smiles and warmth.

I am still thinking of all my friends, and indeed they were all with me dancing on this mountain, or soon they will be:)

After waking up before the sun and waiting hours in a cozy tea shop, taking turns looking down the road for busses, or tractors or yaks finally we find a mini-bus that will take us to Tingri!

Past the elusive chekpoint we start weaving up into the mountains, dust is still clearing from little landslides all over the road. Eventually we hit the pass at 5120meters and everyone close to a window throws these multi-colorded papers out the window with printed prayers on them

“Sou-Sou-Sou!”

Yell the people in the van, as the colored papers are tossed about in the swirling wind.

The old woman sitting in front of me is really happy from the snuff I gave her only minutes before, and starts to mock-punch the oxygen bag the snooty japanese guy has in his lap.

Every time she hits it, he doesn’t say a word about it smacking him in the face,

this sends the back row into encouraging giggles. Not that I would encourage an ornery ancient Tibetan woman. hee hee hee

the effect some snuff has on people?!

The sky here is a forever a deep turquoise and the scenery is a barren moonscape, I havn’t seen a tree in amlost a month?

piles of carins in the valley and the rivers are frozen awaiting the spring thaw,

at 5220 meters….

SOU SOU SOU

whitecapped peaks become visible on the decent

audible ohhs and ahhhhs from the backseat where we are sitting.

Suddenly the road dissappears and the soft dirt helps turn the happy go lucky fun ride into the most sketchy journey I have ever taken. The minivan going inches close to the edge hundreds of meters below a raging river.

I turn on my music, breathe deeply and within the half hour, its over and we are on highway again abeit dusty and bumpy but still alive:)

The real fun starts when the driver takes us to a town Shegar or otherwise known as new tingri… Hmmmm 60km aways from Tingri. There outside the van Luis deftly climbs up and releases our bags, we now have the upper hand in telling these guys off, with our bags saftley with us.

With foreginers, comes the cowds of locals,circling around checking us out and with the dissagreement of location, the crowd grows, we refuse to pay and then the standoff ensues.

Finally we agree to pay one third of the price and as I wave a bye-bye to the driver I get the chinese equivilent of the finger and some other malicous sounding tibetan f-u…

The funny thing is that it was our secret plan to come to Shegar, HA HA HA.. sometimes the universe works in your favor

With a little happy dance sometimes comes a little bit of pain, not the physical pain, but the melancholy kind that comes along with travelling for 8 plus months, missing friends and relatives, knowing parties are happening without me, knowing that sometimes you won’t be having the most stellar of all times regarless of how mystical or amazing your location may be. I suppose all days have the potential for this, but today seems like I got the melancholy blues.

So after Shigatze, we headed to Sakya Monastery. The northern monastery was Built in 1073 the Southern in 1268. The houses surrounding are painted not in the ususal Tibetan whitewash, but in vertical marroon, grey and white stripes. I think to match the surrounding rock in the mountains, but I could be wrong. There is probably higher meaning to it than I could imagine..

The town Sakya itself isn’t much but the usual old Tibeatan houses and the newer Chinese buildings, looking out of place as seems to be the norm here in Tibet. The monastery was visitied in two days, following the pilgrims around to get into most of the chapels. Outside the main chapel, I found Luis sitting with a monk we got to chatting and I was checking out his fuzzy apron skirt, (the best description I have) he let me put it on, and I danced around a bit, Oh fuzzy how I love thee! I went to give it back and he wouldn’t have it! I kept trying until the big lama man came out and told me I must have it if he offers, so I am the proud new owner of a Fuzzy apron! The only thing I had to trade was a tibetan/chinese/english religous dictionary which I graciously gave to him. Oh fuzzy, You keep me so warm on these cold nights!

I can already imagine, running around the desert in my fuzzy apron this coming summer at Nowhere and then Burningman during those cold desert nights! YAY!

After the high of walking around all day in the hills of Sakya, the low and reality of travelling sans a tour group hit when the day after on trying to get Out of Sakya no one would let us get on the bus.. Of course there was a taxi willing to take us, but cripes! I don’t have the type of budget to be taking taxis all over Tibet. In the end we ended up taking the taxi, I am sure the drivers were in cahoots, drinking chang at our expense but luckily a lovely French couple we had come to Skaya with were heading in the same direction and helped share the cost..

In Lhatze things would be easier right?

I wouldn’t be in an internet cafe right now if it was.

As it seems, no one will take forgieners, buses, taxis, minibuses, yaks, mules, tractors.

Today was spent looking for anyone, to take us south. Some buses came, but there was no room others, mini buses looked at us like we carried the plague, and others just laughed in our faces.

Ah, the joy of travelling.

Tomorrow we will try again, getting up at 7am in hopes a phantom bus will pick us up and take us south, if that doesn’t work I will be forced to disquise myself as a Yak walk to Tingri..

Sounds like an adventure, I like adventure…. remember?

Big love from Tibet
jessica

ps. After almost four weeks of soup for breakfeast, lunch and dinner I am no longer on a search for soup. My high school english teacher Mr. Daniels always told my wanderlusting self “where ever you go there you are” hence the new title..