Delhi Belly

Even though I was riding on a local bus back to Delhi last Tuesday, I thought the trip would still end at some sort of actual bus terminal.  During the final half hour or so of the ride, whenever someone wanted to get off the bus, the driver would just sort of slow down without really stopping so they could jump out along the side of the road. This should have been my warning sign.  When we finally arrived at our destination, the driver just stopped on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere.  I probably could have gotten off the bus a few stops sooner, but throughout the whole trip I'd really had no idea where were were at any given point.

Once I got off the bus, I was so tired and sick that I just hopped into the first rickshaw waiting in line.  I begrudgingly agreed to pay the fare he was asking even though I was being totally ripped off and he wasn't willing to negotiate.  The ride to the hostel was freezing cold since the rickshaw was completely unenclosed.  Also, as we got closer, it became clear that the driver didn't actually know exactly where he was going.  I was no help since everything looked totally different in the dark and without a million cars around.  The driver didn't have a phone so in the end I had to make a roaming call to the hostel from my phone so they could give him directions.  Once we finally arrived I gave the driver 50 fewer rupees than agreed upon since he had gotten us lost.  In spite of that, I still paid more than I should have.  Gotta love being a foreigner.

After sleeping in quite a bit the following morning, I went to one of the "newer" sections of New Delhi in pursuit of my continuing efforts to digitize the tapes onto my computer.  My new plan was to try to get a Firewire 800 cable so that I could connect my video camera to my new laptop.  When I got out of the subway, I first went to get a pizza at Sbarro since I was still living in fear of eating Indian food.  That turned out to be a mistake since I ended up getting a bad case of heartburn possibly related to my earlier stomach problems.  After eating, I headed toward the computer stores, many of which were decorated for Christmas helping to get me a bit more in the holiday spirit.  I kept striking out at store after store, though, I was getting closer as each unsuccessful shopkeeper tried to direct me to the correct place to go.  Just when I was about to give up, the last shopkeeper I asked told me to go down a hallway on the second floor.  This small storefront turned out to be essentially a "cable" shop.  They had the cable I needed that would connect my camera to the computer, though I still wasn't sure if my camera was compatible with the new version of my editing software.  I decided to take the risk and bought the cable.

I was still weak from my food poisoning and on the train to get to the stores had actually felt faint from standing up until some other passengers noticed and offered me their seats.  On the way back it was no  different, only this time it was more crowded even on my all-women's car since it was the middle of rush hour.  As we were approaching the stop where I had to change lines, I literally thought I was going to pass out.  Thankfully the women who were standing nearby ushered me to a seat and offered me bottles of water.  One woman, in particular, was especially helpful, offering to get me medical help.  At first I refused, but then decided it might be a good idea so I let her help me up to the first aid station.  The woman, who was studying to be a doctor, stayed with me for more than 20 minutes and even brought me back down to the platform with the station managers to make sure I got a seat on my next train.    The good samaritan waited until the train pulled away before leaving to go about her own business.  It meant so much to me that she was so caring to a complete and utter stranger.  l'll never forget her kindness.  She is going to make a great doctor some day.  Once I got to my final destination, there was a wheelchair waiting for me and I felt there was no way I could refuse to get in it.  Still I looked immensely silly being wheeled up in the elevator and even more so after I was unceremoniously ditched by the exit turnstiles to walk out of my own accord.

On Thursday, I spent the whole day just relaxing at the hostel, writing postcards and loading the music video footage onto my computer (the cable worked!)  Apparently I had selective amnesia when I left this hostel the first time, because I had forgotten about the construction work that was going on for more than 12 hours a day right next door.  It was loud and dusty (and the night before I saw a rat... a RAT not a mouse... scurry from the kitchen counter into a hole in the floor), but I was still so sick that I couldn't be bothered to find a more suitable place to spend the day.  The internet was even down for most of the afternoon so I had to go to an internet cafe to print out my plane ticket.  At about 12:30am, I took a taxi to the airport where I hoped to catch some sleep before my 5:30am flight to Jordan.

I'm not going to lie to you--by the time I left, I was quite ready to move on from India.  I honestly didn't have the easiest time there and not just because I got sick.  I had quite a hard time dealing with all the people, pollution and noise.  Of course there were some amazing sites--the Ganges and the Taj Mahal, among them, and I made some great memories.  However, the sensory overload was just too overwhelming for me that point in my travels when I was feeling tired, burned out and homesick.  I'm not saying I would never go back to India, but if I did I think it would have to be part of a much shorter trip.

The Golden Triangle

I arrived in Agra from Varanasi a week ago Saturday and went directly to my hostel by rickshaw to take a good long nap since I hadn't gotten very much sleep on the train the night before.  When I woke up I considered going to check out the Agra Fort since I wasn't planning to go to the Taj Mahal until the following day, but in the end I just stayed around the hostel and took it easy.  That night at dinner I met two American brothers, Marty and Daniel, and another American guy, Siyan, who was traveling with a German woman, Maya, whom he had met earlier in Delhi.

Siyan and Maya had been to the Taj Mahal that day so I made plans to meet up with Daniel and Marty early on Sunday morning to catch the sunrise at the tomb. Initially I had my dorm room to myself but just before 11:00 at night, an Australian guy showed up and shared his own train tale, which sounded even more nightmarish than mine.  His train was supposed to leave from Varanasi at 10:00pm on Friday night and arrive in Agra at 6:00am on Saturday morning, but it was delayed until 8:00am and didn't arrive in Agra until 10:30pm on Saturday night.  I guess I didn't have it quite so bad after all.

On Sunday morning the plan was to wake up at about 6:30am to see how foggy it was and then decide whether or not to go for sunrise or wait until later.  I met the guys and though there was a bit of fog, we decided since we were already up and dressed, we might as well make our way over.  Once we got to the Taj Mahal, Daniel and Marty wanted to hire a guide and I grudgingly agreed though in the end he did give us some decent information.  When we first walked through the gate, you couldn't even see the tomb since it was completely shrouded in a thick haze, but as we walked closer it began to gradually emerge from the fog.  It was actually really cool and almost mystical, even though the sunrise itself wasn't really all that remarkable because of the weather.  I have to say that the Taj Mahal really is one of those monuments that you think might be overrated, but in actuality totally does not disappoint.  We ended up sticking around for another few hours after our tour ended and got some really good photos once the fog lifted and the visibility improved.

After leaving the Taj, we met back up with Siyan and Maya at the hostel and all went together to the train station where Daniel, Marty and I bought "standing room" train tickets for Jaipur so we could join Siyan on his trip there that night.  We then went to the Agra Fort, a walled brick city that was first mentioned in 1080AD.  It was massive with many different palaces, mosques and courtyards spread out over 94 acres.  It was the spot where the son of Shah Jahan, who built the Taj Mahal for his third and favorite wife, imprisoned his father when he took over in a coup in the 1650s.  It is rumored that Shah Jahan died in a tower with a marble balcony that overlooked his masterpiece, the Taj Mahal.

There was still more of the complex to see, but after a few hours Daniel, Marty and I were so hungry and tired that we left to go get some food.  Siyan and Maya stayed behind to look around and we met up with Siyan back at the hostel to catch our late afternoon train to Jaipur.  Maya was volunteering in Delhi so she had to get her train to go back up there after the weekend.  Luckily, there were no other passengers sitting in the sleeper seats where Siyan had a confirmed ticket so after we boarded the train we were able to pay a little bit extra and buy the tickets next to him.

We arrived in Jaipur, which is the capital of Rajasthan and the third city that makes up the Golden Triangle of India along with Agra and Delhi, just after 10:30 at night.  On the short ride over to the hotel we could already tell that Jaipur seemed cleaner and nicer than Varanasi, Agra and Delhi.  Our hotel was also really nice with a huge room that the four of us shared.  After our less-than-stellar accommodations in Agra, we were all pleasantly surprised.

On Monday morning, Daniel, Marty, Siyan and I went to the Amber Fort about 11 kilometers outside of Jaipur. This opulent palace complex made of red sandstone and marble is even more impressive than both the Agra Fort and the Red Fort in Delhi.  There were so many towers and winding hallways that at one point Siyan and I lost Daniel and Marty for about half an hour until we all met up outside the exit.  Earlier we had all been mobbed by a group of Indian young men who wanted their photos taken with the "foreigners."  It took over ten minutes before we were all able to successfully extricate ourselves.  One the way back to town, we stopped to take photos of a really cool castle that sat immersed in water in the middle of a large lake and was thus completely inaccessible.

Once we got to Jaipur we had our rickshaw drivers drop us off at a restaurant that was recommended in one of our guidebooks.  It was a bit pricey, but we all decided to splurge on a nice meal and ordered four thali platters (the guys got chicken and I got vegetarian.)  The food was pretty good, but there was so much of it that by the end we were all pretty full.  Even still, I decided that I had room for dessert so I went to the place next door to get ice cream while Daniel and Siyan went to get haircuts.  I met them and Marty at the barbershop and then the four of us went to walk around a nearby bazar.  After a little while my stomach started to feel funny, but I continued to wander around with everyone until most of the shops started to close.

When we tried to get a rickshaw to get to the hotel, none of the drivers were willing to give us a decent price.  We started walking back to the main road and finally found someone who was willing to bargain a tiny bit.  There was already a passenger in the rickshaw and since there were four of us, Daniel and Syan were relegated to the back section, which is normally reserved for luggage.  The guy was driving so fast and erratically that poor Daniel and Syan were getting knocked all over the place.  When the other passenger got out, they moved to the backseat, but the journey was still a long way from being over.  It turns out the driver didn't actually know where our hotel was even though he kept insisting over the phone to the guy at our hostel that he knew exactly where it was.  He would pull up to a place and say, "yes?" and all of us would exasperatedly shout, "no!"  By the time we finally arrived I was really not feeling well and we were all so frustrated that we only gave him about half of the agreed upon fare, which was still a fair price.  The driver started to yell and come after us as we walked toward our hostel, but we just kept on walking and luckily the workers at our hostel backed us up.

Upon getting into our room, I immediately laid down on my bed, but didn't stay there long.  I had to run to the bathroom where I violently threw up everything I had eaten for dinner.  I went back to my bed while Marty packed up his stuff to catch a night bus to Udaipur.  For the next few hours I was in and out of the bathroom every 20 minutes or so either throwing up or on the toilet.  Marty had already left, but Siyan and Daniel were very sweet, asking if there was anything they could do to help.  At one point, I said in a very calm voice that I would like them to take a sharp knife, slice my throat and allow all the blood to slowly drain from my body.  I was completely serious.  I clearly had food poisoning, but I was surprised that no one else seemed to be suffering since we had all had the same food at dinner.  I was eventually able to fall asleep until 4:00am when Daniel's alarm accidentally went off.  Apparently at that point he got out of bed and threw up in the bathroom himself.  Then when he got up at 7:00am to head to the bus station, he got sick again.  He decided to take a later bus or train and went back to bed.  Later in the morning, Siyan had some GI problems, but he had already been suffering from some issues even before dinner.  It sounds like Marty had some minor problems when he got off his bus too, but luckily he didn't get sick during the trip.

We were supposed to check out of our room by 11:00am, but I was able to talk the hotel workers into letting us stay for an extra hour.  All that Daniel and I were able to eat was dry toast, but Siyan was well enough to eat a full breakfast.  He then left to go sightseeing while Daniel and I hung around until we had to leave to go up to Delhi.  Daniel had changed his bus to 5:00pm and my train was scheduled for 4:30pm.  When I got to the train station, I discovered that I had accidentally deleted the ticket confirmation from my phone and I had to go all the way back to the hotel to restore the message with my seat information.  Daniel was still there and I almost decided to try to take a bus with him instead, but against my better judgment I went back to the station.  I made it just on time, but there was no indication as to when the train was supposed to arrive.  I finally found a station manager who told me with a completely unironic smile on his face that it was going to arrive three hours late.  Since I already would be arriving pretty late into Delhi, I basically said screw it and decided to take a bus.  However, instead of taking me to the tourist bus station, the rickshaw driver brought me to the local bus station.  I was so sick and tired that I decided just to go on the local bus, which was essentially the equivalent of a school bus in terms of comfort.  Of course the bus ride that was supposed to take five hours instead took eight and at one point we were stopped in traffic that didn't move an inch for about half an hour.  That's another ride that I don't think I ever need to relive.

The Sacred Ganges

Two weeks ago I flew from Kathmandu to Varanasi, one of the oldest cities in India.  It is considered a holy city for Hindus, Buddhists and Jains.  Hindus ritually bathe in the sacred River Ganges which flows through the town and bring their dead there to be cremated in the ghats along the water's edge.

Upon landing at the brand new airport (which incidentally has no currency exchange booths or international ATM machines... ummm, what?) I took a taxi through the crazy, traffic-congested streets to my hotel in the center of the city.  I arrived late in the afternoon and was still tired from my trek and the cold I was fighting so I basically just got some food and hibernated in my room all night with a book.

The next day I slept in late and then ventured down to the river for the first time.  I had to walk through the jam-packed market area to get to the main ghat and then headed north along the river toward the main burning ghat.  All along the way, there were holy men and regular Hindus in various states of undress bathing in the water.  It was a bit chilly and the water appeared rather dirty (the river is apparently among the five most polluted in the world) so I'm not quite sure how they could handle it.  I guess to them it's a part of their religion so I have no place to judge.  I just know that I couldn't imagine going for a swim in the water, though I did at one point put my hands in to satisfy a request from my friend, Jay.  I also then immediately went back to the hotel and washed them.

I continued to walk along the river until I got to one of the burning ghats where I sat on a set of steps to rest for a while until a random Indian man came over and told me (and another foreign couple) that the steps were reserved for the family of the dead.  The other couple didn't move, but I decided that whether or not what he said was true, I should air on the side of caution and get up so I didn't show any disrespect.  As I walked up into the narrow alleyways that border the river,  I was amazed at the constant stream of bodies that were being carried into the cremation area.  They were all covered in fancy cloths so you couldn't see anything too revealing, though, you could make out the impression of feet sticking up at the end.

After leaving the riverfront, I found my way almost accidentally to the Brown Bread Bakery, which is an organic cafe that caters to foreigners, but also raises money for a school that the owners run for poor children in Varanasi.   I had a late lunch there and then found my way back to the riverfront to walk down toward the south.  I stopped at the Lotus Lounge Cafe, a nice little ex-pat oasis overlooking the water, and enjoyed a smoothie as the sun started to set.   I then walked back along the river and caught most of the nightly Hindu ceremony that takes place at the main Dasaswamedh Ghat near the road to my hotel.  Before going back, I dropped off some tapes to be dubbed onto DVD since I had little success with my first attempt in Kathmandu.  There are frequent power cuts in Varanasi at night so I didn't try to venture out again after dark, though I did have to dart around the corner in the pitch black to drop off my video camera at the dubbing place.  The streets are so dirty and filled with holy cow poo that I was lucky I didn't step in anything unfortunate (or get hit by a moto zooming down the alleyway.)

The following morning, I got up before dawn to take a sunrise boat trip along the river.  It was so foggy that there didn't actually end up being an actual sunrise, but it was still cool to see the riverfront emerge into the daylight.  Even at 6:00am, there were people bathing and washing clothes at the water's edge.  Trust me when I say that it really was cold there at that time of day.  I can't even stand to take a cold shower in that weather, but I guess that most of the locals are just used to it.

After the boat ride, I went on a tour of some of the major Hindu temples in town with one of the guys who ran my hostel.  We went first to the new Kashi Vishwanath Temple, which is on the campus of Banaras Hindu University.  The campus, along with most of the waterfront, seemed to be one of the few calmer places in the city.  From there, we went by moto to the Durga or "Monkey" Temple, which (hence its name) is heavily populated by monkeys of all shapes and stripes.  The third stop was the Tulsi Manas Temple, which is dedicated to the Lord Rama and tells the story of his life in engravings all around the walls.  At the fourth and final temple, I committed two faux pas--first when I tried to put my shoes off to the side to avoid paying the stupid fee to have someone watch them (if I'm willing to take the risk of someone stealing them, why should I have to pay to put my shoes next to some random old guy?), but the random old guy chastised me and had a little boy move the shoes near him anyways--then second, when I tried to walk up onto an altar that was apparently reserved for Hindus or holy people or some other such thing that wasn't really made very clear to me.  Anyways, I have to say that Hinduism is one religion that I really just don't know very much about or quite understand.  Because of that lack of knowledge, I'm just not quite sure what to make of all the pomp and ritualism (though I guess that can be said of most religions.)

Before we went back to the hotel after the tour ended, my guide brought me to the factories where they make silk mainly because he wanted to get me to buy some silk from a local merchant.  At first we weren't able to find anyone working "because it was too cold," but we finally found three people adding some decorations to cloth on a loom, which we watched for a total of about 30 seconds.  We then went into the showroom, where the salesman tried to tempt me with all manner of pashminas and scarves.  I politely looked, but steadfastly refused to be swayed into a purchase since I hate being given the hard sell on a tour for which I paid good money.  After finally being convinced that I wasn't buying, my guide brought me back to the hotel and I spent the rest of the afternoon at the Lotus Lounge, relaxing and taking advantage of the free wifi to work on my computer.  That night I learned that the guy at the dubbing studio wasn't able to transfer the tapes because they use PAL in India instead of NTSC.  There was a lot of back and forth with him over the course of two days and I know that he tried his very best to figure out a solution, but it left me back at square one with no way to digitize my footage.  It was yet another setback in my efforts to finally finish editing my co-teacher Barley's music video.

On my final day in Varanasi, I had booked a two-hour group yoga class at a studio near the Brown Bread Bakery.  There were about five other women in the class all of whom were also tourists.  I was still battling my cold so I had brought a whole roll of tissues and frequently had to stop to blow my nose.  The first hour and 40 minutes of the class went relatively well until we started to do back bends.  For some reason, whenever I am upside down for an extended period of time in a yoga pose, I start to feel dizzy and nauseous. This time was no exception and when I started to not feel well I decided to take a break and lie down for a while.  The hardcore Hindi yoga instructor (who had claimed at the beginning of class that it was okay if we had to modify any pose so as not to overextend ourselves) immediately started barking at me and giving me alternate poses from everyone else. After a few minutes, I wanted to try to rejoin the rest of the group, but he kept telling me to do something different.  Since I wasn't feeling well and had been dealing with a bit of loneliness over the prior few days with the holidays approaching, I started to quietly cry.
 
Apparently Indians don't show their emotions and don't know what to do with those who do so of course the instructor's response was, "you don't need to cry," even though he had no idea about what I was actually crying over (I can tell you that it wasn't my inability to do yoga.)  For some reason I couldn't stop the tears and at the end of the class my other classmates kindly showed their concern and asked if I was okay.  I kind of broke down and told them that I was really homesick after five month's of travel.  They tried to comfort me as we walked down toward the street and then as we were getting ready to part ways, I suddenly had another wave of nausea and had to sit down on the stoop.  One of the women offered to walk me back to the hotel, but after a few minutes I felt better and was able to walk by myself, though it was nice they were so understanding.

In the afternoon I just rested at the hotel until I had to get ready to catch my night train to Agra.  However, there was one catch with catching my train, which is that I didn't actually have a seat on said train.  Trains in India routinely book up days ahead of time so by the time I bought my ticket I was number twelve on the waiting list.  However, I had been told by multiple people (including the owner of my hotel) that if you just show up at the train station and give the ticket collector some money (Bakshish), they will find you an empty seat.  I decided to take a risk because I had no other way to get to Agra at that point.

When I got to the station I met a couple from New Zealand who had waitlisted ticket for a second class car and confirmed tickets for a sleeper (lowest class) car and were also going to try to talk their way into the second class car.  When the train arrived, the only conductor I could find was all the way on the front car and he didn't speak English.  He looked at my ticket and gestured toward the other end of the train so I jumped onto the first second class car I could find where I was reunited with the couple from New Zealand.  As the train rolled away, I made the split second decision to stay on board and just take my chances.  It so happened that all of the ticket collectors were gathered in our car and as I saw them going through the train roster I realized it was too late for a bribe and I was instead going to have to play totally dumb.  When they asked for my ticket, I gave them the waitlisted version and pretended I had no idea I didn't have an actual booked seat.  Since none of the conductors spoke English they had to bring over an Indian tour leader to explain everything to me.  He told me that there was no one in my seat until we arrived in Lucknow, but once we got there someone was going to come on board so they had nowhere to put me.  There was some insinuation I might have to get off the train in Lucknow, which unfortunately would be happening at about 12:00 midnight.  The tour guide tried to assure me that the conductors were doing everything they could to figure out a possible solution, but I still turned on the waterworks a bit to try to prove to them I wasn't totally bluffing.  The Kiwi couple, meanwhile, also seemed to be taking the "playing dumb" angle with regards to their waitlisted tickets, but eventually they were ousted to the sleeper car.  I kind of felt bad because I was able to stay where I was, but they at least knew they had confirmed seats all the way to Agra.

As we started to approach Lucknow at close to 2:00am (the train was running late), one of the conductors came over and said it was the next stop and I was going to have to leave my seat.  Again, it was insinuated that I might have to get off the train, but when it stopped no one told me to leave so I just stayed where I was while everyone else got on board.  No one immediately claimed my bunk, but a group of girls who were clearly on their way to a wedding asked me to switch seats with one of them so they could all be together. I was happy to oblige, but I tried to explain the seat wasn't actually mine.  They said that was fine, but then the attendant in our car came over and told them in Hindi why it wasn't possible.  After another few minutes, the Indian tour guide and one of the conductors came over to tell me I had lucked out because a passenger in Lucknow had neglected to show up.  I had to move to a third class car, but I had a seat for the rest of the trip to Agra.  I paid for the Lucknow to Agra portion and the tour guide told me the give the conductor a bit extra for the first half of the trip.  I ended up paying just a tiny bit more than the face value of the ticket.

At 10:30am--four and a half hours after our scheduled arrival time--the train rolled into Agra and my stowaway Indian train adventure came to end.  However, I learned my lesson and don't think I will ever try to pull a fast one like that again.

Kathmandu Calling

I’m not going to lie to you.  I think the Everest trek was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my entire life.  It wasn’t so much physically the hardest--running the NYC Marathon probably takes that honor--but unlike the marathon, I couldn’t go home after 4 1/2 hours and take a hot shower (or cold ice bath as the case may be.)  Of course, it also was a physical challenge as we were sometimes climbing up and downhill for six or seven hours a day, but it was much more than that.  It was a huge emotional challenge dealing with freezing cold nights, a lack of showers after sweating all day with nothing to wear but dirty clothes that couldn’t be washed and dried on time.  By the final few days of the trek I was ready to get back down to Kathmandu.  The last two nights I actually had strange, non-sequitur dreams I was back home that made me really homesick when I woke up and found myself actually lodged in an ice cold snow-capped mountain range.  I was quite happy when we made it down a few days early and were able to get a flight back to the city where I figured I would be able to rest and recover.

Once I made it to Kathmandu it wasn’t all sunshine and roses as I had hoped.  It was still quite cold at night (though not as cold as the mountains) since the guesthouse where I was staying had no heat.  It wasn’t too bad outside in the sun during the day, but the rooms inside didn’t capture any heat at all to keep them warm at night.  I was able to take a warmish shower the first day I got back, but as the hot water was controlled by solar power, I didn’t even bother to try for a shower the other three days I stayed there.  The city was also dealing with increasingly lengthy power cuts of up to five or six hours every day.  Even though the hostel had a generator, it often didn’t last through the outage and there were quite a few candlelit dinners and dark nights in our room.  Of course Kathmandu continued to go on at the same frenzied pace out on the street with cars constantly honking and motor bikes whizzing by.  It really made me appreciate the basic amenities we take totally for granted back home.

Luckily the woman who ran the guesthouse, Sarita, was very hospitable and welcoming.  The first two days that I was back, she took me and some of the other guests sightseeing around the city.  The first day we went to the Swayambhu Stupa, which is one of the most sacred Buddhist sites in the country.  Like the Batu Caves in Kuala Lumpur, there were tons of monkeys all over the grounds and no lack of people either since it was the day of the monthly full moon festival.  Afterward we went to a hill village just outside Kathmandu where there were more Buddhist and Hindu temples.  The following day we went to the Boudha Stupa, which is a very important site for Tibetan Buddhism in Nepal.  Many monks and villagers from the Himalayas come on pilgrimages to worship at the temple.  We then went to a Hindu crematorium, but since it was a bit pricey to get in, we decided we could do without seeing dead bodies being burned.  I was still not feeling well, dealing with both my head cold and stomach problems so I went home early while a group of Thai tourists went with Sarita into the city center.

I spent my last two days in Kathmandu running errands such as sending a package home for Christmas, selling my hiking boots and trying to get some tapes dubbed onto DVD so that I can start to edit them.  With my new computer I no longer have the correct cable to connect my video camera to the computer so I currently have to find other ways to digitize video.  It turned out not to be a success in Kathmandu because when I went to pick up the tapes before leaving for India, the guy at the store told me he didn’t have HD capabilities.  I’m currently trying to get it sorted now in Varanasi.

I had originally planned to take a bus and/or train from Kathmandu to Varanasi, India, on Tuesday, but when I learned I would have to either take two 10-12 hour buses or two buses and a train, I opted to spring for the one-hour flight instead.  I figured since I wasn’t feeling that great, spending 30 hours on public transit would do little to help that situation.  In the end I feel it was the right decision, though I did have a bit of a scare when I arrived at the airport 1 3/4 hours before my flight only to see it listed on the board as leaving at 1:15pm instead of the scheduled 2:25pm.  Until (and even after) I got into the airport (there was a line outside to get through security) and got my boarding pass I thought my flight was leaving in half an hour.  Fortunately the board was clearly wrong as the flight did not depart until 2:30pm.  Given my luck with international flights, an incorrect departure time was the last thing I needed to see upon arriving at the airport.

I've just posted some photos from the first half of my trek if you want to check them out.  I will try to post some more soon.  I don't get wifi at my hostel in Varanasi so I am currently camping out at a restaurant and fear I may have overstayed my welcome.

Trekking: Dingboche-Everest Base Camp-Lukla

Day 7: Sunday, December 4, 2011

Dingboche-Loboche (4928m)

It was a long uphill climb between Dingboche and Loboche.  It was windy and I had a really bad headache by the time we made it to the top at 4928 meters.  To be honest, I was also feeling a bit dizzy and had visions of being choppered down with severe altitude sickness.  You see and hear helicopters all day long while trekking and apparently there are something like 20 rescues a day.  I didn't exactly let on to my guide quite how bad I was feeling, but I could see him giving me looks from across the dining room at the lodge. He told me to order garlic soup and take half a Diamox pill (for altitude sickness.)  I was also having some stomach issues most likely from the tap water I had started drinking to save money (and plastic bottles), but was only treating with chlorine drops.  About an hour later, I was feeling much better and was even able to walk down to see a stranded helicopter that had "crashed" on take-off a few days before while trying to rescue an overweight Australian man (no one was hurt.)  I chatted that afternoon with a British guy named Mark who told me about his friend, Ben, who had ridden by motor bike from India to Kathmandu.  I told him I had overheard someone in the line for immigration at the airport talking about his friend who had ridden up from India.  We then realized that Mark and the "guy at the airport" were one in the same.  I felt like a total stalker who knew his whole life story.  Too funny.  I also meet Brady from Portland and his British friend, Jake, who he met volunteering at an orphanage in Kathmandu.

Day 8: Monday, December 5, 2011

Loboche-Gorka Shep-Kala Patther-Everest Base Camp (5364m)

Today was the big long day.  We first walked from Loboche up to Gorka Shep at 5140 meters and left our bags at a lodge there.  Along the way, we ran into Donna from New Zealand who was coming back down after going to Kala Pather and base camp the previous day.  After stopping for tea, we hiked straight uphill to Kala Patther at 5545 meters to get the best views of Everest of the trek.  We also had 360-degree views of all the mountains in the surrounding range from the very tippy top.  It took us about 1.5 hours to go up and a little less than an hour to come down.  As we approached the top and I could see the mountains on the back side of Kala Patther, all I could say was "wow."  After summiting, we came back down to the lodge to have lunch.  My guide really didn't want to go all the way to base camp, saying it was eight kilometers there, another eight kilometers back in the wind and you couldn't even see Everest when you got there.  He also told me it would take 5.5 to 6 hours so we would be coming back in the dark.  Donna had said that it was really worth seeing and since I had come all this way, I told Chandra that I was going to go even if he didn't want to come.  In the end, he accompanied me (it only took us three hours back and forth by the way) and I was really glad I went.  Since it was late in the season there of course weren't any expedition tents set up, but there were really cool ice formations on the glacier leading to the foot of the mountain.  When we got back to the lodge that night I was talking with a German trekker who called the spot the "tourist base camp" saying he'd walked farther along to the real camp where he could see the remains of one of the kitchens from the hiking season.  That may be true and I'm sure if I'd had more time I could have explored more, but I'm still glad I got as far as I did.

Day 9: Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Gorak Shep-Pangboche (3930m)

After a very cold and mostly sleepless night at nearly 5200 meters in Gorak Shep, we headed back down to Pangboche.  My nose was still all stuffed up and my cough seemed to have returned, but luckily were heading down to an area with more oxygen.  It was mostly downhill and we had made it to the village of Pheriche by lunch, but we decided to keep walking another two hours (up and downhill) to Pangboche where it was supposedly a little bit warmer.  On the way, we passed the four Australian med students on their way up and also saw Mark and Ben also making their way down.  Walking along the first half of the course that the Everest Marathon participants had followed, I was still in awe of their ability to actually run on that unsteady and hilly terrain without any apparent route markers or aid stations.  When we made it to Pangboche, we were the only ones staying at our lodge that night and I had a bit of an uncomfortable conversation with my guide, Chandra, about the cost of his flight to and from Lukla.  He had told me previously that it was in fact HE who paid for the flight as opposed to the trekking company.  I told him again that I had been under the impression the company paid for the flight since I was supposed to be on a group tour with another guide who was already in Lukla.  I also confirmed that I had given the agent about a quarter of the flight fee in US dollars and told Chandra he should get that money from the agent if he had indeed paid for his own flight.  It was really an issue between him and the trekking company, but I felt stuck in the middle as the "rich American" who was being too stingy with her money.  Needless to say, I went to bed feeling a bit unsettled needlessly.  On the upside, I was able to take my first shower in five days!  Too bad all the clothes I had to change into were still dirty.

Day 10: Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Pangboche-Namche Bazar (3930m)

On the second day of our descent we walked all the way down from Pangboche to Namche Bazar.  The first part was mostly flat or downhill, then there was big uphill to Tengboche followed by a very long downhill that I remembered struggling through on the way up.  I hadn't remembered quite how long the hill was and I think if I had known how long it would go on at the time (about 1.5 hours) I never would have made it up.  The day ended with a bit of an uphill before it evened out getting into Namche Bazar.  There were quite a few people staying in our lodge, most of whom seemed to be on their way up, though I didn't really talk to any of them.  It was nice to see the guy who owned the place again as we had had some good chats before about his travels to the U.S.

Day 11: Thursday, December 8, 2011

Namche Bazar-Lukla (2840m)

We walked the final distance all the way from Namche Bazar to Lukla on the third day of our descent.  I had decided I wanted to get down early in case we had a problem getting a flight to Kathmandu and ended up being stuck in Lukla for a few days.  We had made it to Phakding by lunch and continued on the final three hours to Lukla in the afternoon.  I had forgotten that it was such a tough uphill climb right at the end since it had been a downhill walk right at the beginning on the trek on the way out.  It was interesting to pass places that I remembered seeing from the opposite direction such as "that was the place where we had tea on the second day" and "that was the rock wall we clung to to avoid getting gored by a yak horn on the first day."  It was also amazing to me how green and flowery everything was after the tree-less "moon surface" of the higher elevations.

Day 12: Friday, December 9, 2011

Lukla-Kathmandu

We were scheduled for the first flight out on Agni Air at 7:30am, but 7:30am came and went without a plane landing in Lukla due to fog and poor visibility in Kathmandu.  The two other couples staying at our lodge were scheduled on the first flight out on Tara Air at 6:30am so they received the call first to head to the airport once the first planes started arriving after 10:00am.  At about 11:30am, we got the call to go to the airport for our flight, which ended up not arriving until after 1:30pm.  At the airport, I ran into Brady and Jake who were also waiting for the same flight.  We angled our way to make sure that we got on that flight and then took off without incident shortly before 2:00pm.  We made it to Kathmandu about 25 minutes later and I was able to drop off my rented gear in Thamel before heading back to my guesthouse in the afternoon.

I've included a few additions to my previous post that I forgot to mention the other day.  If you've already read that post you may want to take a quick look back over it so you're not completely confused.  Pictures will be posted tomorrow after I get some sleep.  We had a 5+ hour blackout today in Kathmandu (power outages are a daily occurrence) so I wasn't able to get on my computer to post before dinner.

Trekking: Lukla-Dingboche

Day 1: Monday, November 28, 2011
Kathmandu-Phakding (2610m)

Walking across a deep ravine

We flew from Kathmandu to Lukla at 7:00am and then walked about two hours to Phakding at 2610 meters.  There was only one other couple - a British guy and a French girl - staying at the lodge with us.  I paid 200 rupees to take a hot shower (in an outdoor stall) because I hadn't showered in three days.  I don't really consider myself "princessy" but there is no way I could have taken a cold shower when it was so freezing outside.  Just washing my hands and dirty clothes in the cold tap water was bad enough.  My guide told me it was the last time I would have a toilet inside my room.  The lodge rooms weren't heated, but it wasn't too bad once I was inside my rented sleeping bag under a blanket.  I started to get a runny nose, which had me worried that I was coming down with a cold.

Day 2: Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Phakding-Namche Bazar (3440m)

The Sherpa capital of Namche Bazar

It was a tough climb.  We walked uphill (and across some crazy bridges) for most of the way from Phakding to Namche Bazar, the Sherpa capital of Nepal, at 3440 meters.  I had to hand wash some more clothes (mostly socks) in freezing cold water.  We arrived just after noon and planned to stay for two nights to acclimatize to the altitude.  We were the only ones at our lodge.  It was another freezing cold night without heat.

Day 3: Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Namche Bazar (rest day)
It was cloudy for most of the morning.  We stayed in Namche, but hiked up to the highest airport in the world, which was really just a landing strip.  Since the weather wasn't great there wasn't much of a view and we didn't go up any higher. The clouds cleared a bit in the afternoon so I painted a mountain scene with watercolors.  I also went down into "town" to change some money and buy a neck wrap in the Tibetan market.  We were the only ones at our lodge once again.

The "world's highest airport" shrouded in fog

Day 4: Thursday, December 1, 2011
Namche Bazar-Pangboche (3930m)
We walked about six hours from Namche Bazar to Pangboche at 3930 meters, stopping for lunch in the village of Tengboche with its famous monastery.  It was about one and a half hours of uphill climbing before we made it to Tengboche.  It was pretty brutal.  At our lodge in Pangboche I met a British mother and daughter, Shirl and Flo, who were on their way back down.  They scared me with tales of medical centers and oxygen treatments in Gorak Shep.  I paid for another hot shower, my first shower in three days (and last for five days.)  My cold had morphed not only into just a stuffy nose, but also a hacking cough.  I started to worry that if I didn't get much better soon I would have trouble getting enough oxygen at higher elevations.

Taking a breather

Day 5: Friday, December 2, 2011
Pangboche-Dingboche (4410m)

A runner in the Everest Marathon

It was only about a two-and-a-half hour walk from Pangboche to Dingboche.  On the way, we watched runners from the Everest Marathon come down along the path from Gorak Shep en route to the finish line in Namche Bazar.  The first runners were Nepalese (who are obviously able to train in the mountains) and all of the Westerners trailed behind.  I made sure to cheer for every single one of the runners we passed whether they wanted me to not because I knew exactly what they were going through and there were no other spectators along the course aside from the trekkers.  I admit I did feel kind of lame huffing and puffing just walking along the path while they were all running the same route, though obviously in the opposite direction.  I suppose I had my cold partially to blame since I was still going through about a packet of tissues a day.  Once we arrived in Dingboche, I washed some clothes in a stream in front of our lodge because there was no running water up that high.  I met Donna from New Zealand who was finishing up a seven-month trip through South America and Southeast Asia.  I recognized Donna from our flight up to Lukla so she was on the same pace as us, but was forgoing a second "acclimatization day" and heading up higher the following day.

Day 6: Saturday, December 3, 2011
Dingboche (rest day)

Hiking with yaks near Dingboche

We had a second rest day in Dingboche to acclimatize, but spent the morning walking up and down a nearby "hill."  We never made it to the top, if there was a top, but after my guide told me the view didn't get any better if we went any higher, we just arbitrarily decided to head back down after about two hours of climbing to 4800 meters.  That night we met a group of four Australian medical students - three guys and one woman - who had just arrived at our lodge and were thus one day behind our schedule.

My hands are now freezing cold (that whole "no heat" thing) and it's about time to order dinner.  I will finish up the second half of the trek once I make it down to Kathmandu in another day or two.  Plus I will post pictures at that time once I'm back on my own computer (I only took about 300 or 400... haha - half kidding).