Lost in Alaska

“Beyond Fifty Below"

2012-01-29T15:07:00.002-09:00

This weekends weather was the inspiration for a new You Tube series. I know everyone has heard the old tale “if you spit in negative temperatures it will freeze before it hits the ground”.

Its not Myth Busters, its not Bill Nye the Science Guy, and its not Mr. Wizard. But “Beyond Fifty Below” makes it worth heading outside to play as the temperatures get colder and colder. Check out my episodes below, stay tuned for more episodes (if it gets cold enough).

The Pilot

Episode 2.0

Episode 3.0

Varanasi: School Visit

2012-01-28T18:04:00.001-09:00

Post by Gretchen

While in India we constantly saw people in need of basic essentials - food and shelter. Hungry children begged in the streets, big eyes and empty bloated bellies. People of all ages without limbs, open sores and dirty ripped clothing lay in the streets. The train stations were the worst. People gathered there in mass to beg. It broke my heart, yet at the same time overwhelmed me to the point of just wanting to get away from it all. Like if I didn't see it, it wouldn't exist. What could we do, how could we help? We were in India to learn and to experience, but we didn't want to just be tourists. Our lives back home revolve around serving others, both professional and personally. While in Varanasi we took the opportunity to check out a charity school that educates poor children whose parents cannot afford to send them to public schools.

In the U.S. we take it for granted that we all have the opportunity for FREE education! That is really an amazing thing. Yes, our system has it's problems, but all kids can go to school. In India school fees are very expensive and even some people with jobs cannot afford to send their children to school. Our driver one day explained to us how even the schools that have low tuition still require families to pay for books and uniforms and many families cannot afford to send their children at all. When I hear Sam's kids complain about having to go to school I wish they could see just a piece of what we saw and know what great opportunity it is to be able to go to school!

I had read about this school in Lonely Planet, but it took a bit of searching to find it tucked away on a back street. We were able to ask at a cafe that sells bread to support the school and got a guide to take us to the classrooms. The school was in an old house with two bedrooms converted into classrooms just off of an open air atrium.

The children sat on simple wood benches, sharing text books and copying lessons into notebooks. There was a lower and upper primary classroom, with about 30 kids between the two classes and two teachers. The Principal/Administrator welcomed us in to sit and watch as classes finished up for the afternoon.

Like many of our days in India it was peel the paint off the walls hot and the two classrooms shared one fan that was positioned between the two as the only source of moving air. I was melting, but to the kids it was just a normal school day.

One of the youngest students taking a rest at the end of the day as the older children finish assignments.

The kids were excited to practice the English phrases they knew with us and were very interested in have their photos taken.

This student lead the class, counting out loud in English to 100. He even stopped and corrected his peers when they got off track!

These girls showed me their writing assignments and some of the games they like to play.

I pulled out my I-Pod to snap a couple of pictures and they were fascinated by it. "Is that a phone?" "Is it a computer?"

I showed the kids some games I have on the I-Pod and they took turns spelling words and doing math problems. Gotta love free apps!

I love technology that is so intuitive you don't have to explain it. The language barrier was not a problem, they just touched the screen, moved things around and figured out how to use it. Of course every student wanted a turn.

It was a privilege to spend the afternoon with these students. I thank them for sharing with us and welcoming us into their school.

Varanasi

2012-01-28T15:35:00.000-09:00

Varanasi, is one of the holiest cities in the Hindu faith. It’s where all Hindu’s are supposed to come to be cremated. Believed to be the “city of light” founded by the god Shiva. It is one of the oldest living cities in the world. People have inhabited it continually, maintaining its religious life since the 6th century B.C.

I loved Varanasi. I really can’t explain why yet, but I loved it. Gretchen appreciated the history and wealth of ritual here, but not the same way I did. More then any other city, I feel like Varanasi had a lot to teach me still about life. While most people seeking new found spiritual insight in India flock to Rishikesh or the hundreds of ashrams spread throughout the country. I think I might have found that feeling in Varanasi. The solitude of death along the rivers edge. The music emanating from its streets. The edification in a drenching rain wandering alleys in the old city. It was enlightening watching a city work the way its worked for thousands of years. I can’t imagine it looking or operating any differently then this throughout time.

Why did I give Gretchen the map?

After traveling for 24 hours we checked into our hotel and took a nap. A friend whom I work with in the school district has been traveling to India for decades. He has also been studying music in Varanasi for quite some time. He recommended a nice hotel on the south side of town called Hotel Haifa. Located near the Asi Ghat, maybe two blocks off the water- it allowed us to freely explore just minutes from the main city, but retreat to a quiet area to relax.

Riding on a cycle rickshaw

Varanasi essentially has a main road paralleling the Ganges River. Over time it has spread and urbanized from the river, but that is still the heart of Varanasi. Not only holy to Hindu’s, but the nearby deer park in Sarnath, about 10 kilometers away, is where Buddha gave his first sermon.

For less than a dollar you can travel up and down the ghats (steps at rivers edge) on cycle rickshaw. There are over a hundred ghats in Varanasi along the river. They range in appearance from complex stone sites for holy rituals to simple access at waters edge for bathing. As water levels rise and fall throughout the year from monsoon rains, so to does their use and appearance change. Several of the ghats you can not photograph. They serve as cremation sites for the dead. Here we just watched, sometimes from afar, sometime close enough to smell the smoke. Other ghats are for bathing and washing. Some are for pujas or other holy rituals praising Mother Ganga for her nourishing flow.

The weather was overcast with intermittent rain all four days we were here. Having the sun blocked behind clouds actually made it feel a little cooler, despite heavy humidity. I really enjoyed the people in Varanasi. We took the opportunity to let a couple people into our life and carefully control our destiny for that day. First a young boy, maybe 13 or 14. We met him while his older brothers were playing cricket at rivers edge. He tried and tried to get us into his family’s textile shop. When he discovered we weren’t prepared to buy anything, he became our friend. He told us what its like to go to school in Varanasi. He told us what its like to work in his families shop at an early age. And he told us what its like to loose a parent.

We once again had the rules of cricket briefly explained to us. It still didn’t make that much sense. After a lot of chit chat, the boy sat with us in silence for a little while. Cool breezes blew off the water, it was almost comfortable. I took a few more photographs and we left. Wandering the alleys back to our hotel we could hear music emanating from several temples. It was the week of the holy festivals of Shiva. Though darkness was encroaching, a lot of temples were lit with candles or a single light bulb. Peeking through the stone lattice into one temple I could see a group of people squatting around burning incense. Acapella songs being sung, the only word I recognized was Krishna.

A new friend

Midnight loom work

We were constantly tempted to take a requisite boat ride. I resisted the first couple days trying to figure out what a fair price would be. Multiple young men solicited us. The price I finally negotiated was double what the Rough Guide recommends, but I suppose that is inflation. The water current is swift on the Ganges. We easily floated down river about 15 minutes, passing dozens of ghats and gaining a whole new perspective on the city. It then took us 45 minutes to paddle back up river to our starting point. From the river we saw families playing, children swimming, men bathing, women laundering, and bodies burning. From a distance you can see several smoke plumes coming from fires. Funeral parties crowd above. Doms, or the untouchable cremators dressed in white sheets move back and forth, carrying out their work.

Relaxing on the Ganges

Approaching a burning ghat, please put away your camera

Share this ghat with some water buffalos

Napping on the Ganges

Boat paddlers

When visiting either of the two burning ghats you hear “cremation is education”. The metaphysical transformation from life, to death, to ash through the river, and once again back to life through reincarnation. I mean no disrespect by this narrative. I know what I don’t know, and that is the totality or complete understanding of what I saw. I will try to capture it in simplest terms, leaving out details which I don’t understand, or just don’t know. If you are the wiser, please edify me, correct me, and help me learn.

On the outskirts of the first cremation ghat we visited a hospice house. Meeting another lone young male in the streets, he offered to show us around these holy ghats. I was a bit wary of an oncoming tout, or tip for his “services”, but he told us several times he was just bored, and enjoyed showing foreigners around. So we followed him.

The hospice house was a three story stone building overlooking the main cremation ghat. It was a home for the undead. After seeing several dead bodies in the train station the day before, I was only partially prepared for this experience. All around us, laying upon the floor, mostly uncovered, were crippled and starving people, dying people. Some from Varanasi, others abandoned by their families and condemned to die in this city. Those who die in Varanasi will achieve enlightenment. Those who are cremated in Varanasi will be more prosperous in the next life. To paraphrase eons of belief in just two simple sentences.

We climbed the stairs through the hospice house. Each level the feeling of death grew thicker. From the roof balcony we had a panorama view of the entire ghat. Below us funeral parties carried in bodies covered upon a bamboo stretcher. People waited in que as the dead were decorated with flowers and jewelry. The bodies were then dipped into the holy water of the Ganges River before being placed upon a smoldering fire. I was surprised at the small size of these cremation fires. I pictured blazing bonfires swallowing up corpses in must minutes. Instead I saw tiny flames barely consuming the dead as families stood nearby. Feet and hands sticking out unburned, as Doms patiently added logs to the fire.

The following excerpt comes directly from my journal after experiencing the ghats and talking with several people.

“It takes 3 hours to slow burn a body, after they have soaked in the Ganges, and about 150 - 300 kilograms of wood, that amount was not clear, they use banyan tree wood at 150 INR per kilogram. There are 5 types of dead people not burned; Sadhus, snake bite victims, children, lepers, and I can’t remember the fifth. The Doms are the caste which handle the dead, they are untouchables. I saw several bodies burned. I did not see the actual body, but saw the shape covered with adornments of cloth and flower pedals. Only men attended the ceremony as women are to emotional to be here, and still afraid of Sati… while at the second burning ghat the Dom explained that even poor people get cremated here, that rich people will donate wood, but the poorest people get partially burned wood, and a lot of the local Muslims donate money for wood for the poor…"

After the body is initially placed upon an unlit fire, the Dom takes grasses and lights it from an eternal flame within the nearby temple. He then walks around the body five times, clockwise, before placing the fire starter beneath the logs. It is easy to identify whom the dead are from afar. The color of the cloth draping the deceased tells whether they are young, old, male or female.

By the end of the afternoon my eyes burned from the smoky air. We had enough education about cremation for one day. My own thoughts of death and transformation are pouring through my mind. But to remain as objective as possible, I will save those for another piece of prose on another blog.

Romantic boat ride on the spectacular Ganges River

Varanasi is also known for textiles and oils. We decided to explore a couple of the silk shops. Its actually suave, for men to wear silks. Very European. But no, I didn’t buy one.

Precious gorgeous silk

It starts here crushing and grinding

We spent several hours in this oil shop. I learned a lot about how various remedies and oils are made. It was amazing to see how dozens of oils are crushed or ground from the raw materials. They ranged from roots to rocks, wild grasses to precious herbs. All turning into an assortment of valuable oils. Some esteemed for their beautiful perfume smell, others carrying aromatic healing qualities.

A plethora of oils and fragrances

I think Varanasi embraces you only when you embrace her. Teeming streets and vacant alleys spread throughout this living city. Generations built upon many millennia of life. Rituals today that have been occurring since its birth. The holiest of “tirthas” or crossing places, giving the devotee access to the divine. The visitor, even a glimpse of what eternity here looks like. Everyday life struggling with an identity formed between the past, unknowing of the future.

Traveling India Style

2012-01-28T13:13:00.002-09:00

This is a photo montage of about 24 hours worth of traveling from far northern India to central/eastern India. We left the city of Leh in Ladakh mid-morning, finally arriving in Varanasi on the edge of Uttar Pradesh the next morning.

This was the first time we used domestic airlines to travel within India. Being so close to the Pakistan border, with a constant terrorist threat- the airport was overwhelmed with Indian Army security. We actually passed through at least three security checkpoints. Even entering the airport complex in a vehicle requires a passport and airline ticket check. Then entering the airport terminal you get checked again. Our bags ran through two different preliminary x-ray machines before being checked at the main baggage check. Then we were scanned and patted down twice before going to the gate. At the gate, just before departing for our plane, we had to visually identify our baggage in a pile, then board a bus to the plane. Once aboard the bus, our baggage was whisked off and loaded on the aircraft. A quick shuttle across the tarmac brought us to our plane, where we finally climbed a set of stairs and boarded.

The first half of the flight was spectacular. We quickly climbed and had front row seats watching the Himalaya pass beneath us. Nameless peaks and massive glaciers filled my window. I was reminded of similar flights over the Alaska Range from Anchorage to Fairbanks. The difference was the vast size of the Himalaya. They seemed to go on forever. We made a stop to the west of Leh in Sringar, then turned south east and landed in Delhi.

Once in Delhi we played the transportation game again. Bluffing an airport shuttle service, we got free tickets to travel 7 miles from the domestic terminal to the international terminal. At the international terminal we were able to hop on the Delhi Metro and ride into the city. Once in Delhi we had several hours to kill before our train, the Mugadh Express left for Varanasi. The thick sub-continent humidity once again over took us. I instantly missed the dry heat and cool nights we found in the high mountains.

A women has henna painted on her hands

The longer I was in India the more comfortable I became with my camera. I really had a lot of fun taking candid photographs in Pahrganj and around the New Delhi Train Station.

The main board announcing departures and arrivals, not to be believed...

Gretchen waits for our train, watching our luggage as I wander snapping photographs.

The New Delhi Station has at least 16 tracks if I remember correctly, possibly more. Every few minutes trains arrive and depart from all over the country. Figuring out schedules is overwhelming at first, as previously mentioned in our first encounter. Our train to Varanasi would end up being about two hours late. Returning from Varanasi to Delhi a week later our train arrived nearly four hours late. There are many classes to train travel. For mere pennies people cram into open air cargo style train cars to travel across the country. For $20-30 US a person, tourists can spread out in large sleeper cars. We spent about $10 US. That got us a semi-personal sleeper car. Sometimes with six bunks to a chamber, sometimes four.

A small child rushes to her mothers side looking for their train

Beautiful blue cars, most travelers were men

Pausing in larger train stations is a welcomed break for 30 and 40 hour train rides

Cargo is constantly being loaded and unloaded

The sun sets on the tracks at New Delhi Railway Station

Gretchen rides in comfort, our exclusive four person sleeper bunks

I love traveling by train in India. I will go back to India, and when I do I hope to stay for longer and travel further by train. Trains go nearly everywhere except the Himalaya. Learning to hop trains and reach new destinations is a fun puzzle to solve. You meet really exciting and interesting people on trains. I wish America would rethink they way we look at transportation. The more I visit exotic countries, the more I enjoy traveling by bus and train. Both those modes have almost become obsolete in America, or at least very unpopular. A train ticket at times can cost more then the fuel to drive. Buses are cheaper, but not my much. Why? In this day and age where we have become more concerned with our environment, on top of a failing automobile industry- lets look to alternate transportation. I hate to use the term alternate. Lets bring back or repopularize those other modes of travel. Gretchen and I have become more interested in seeking out public transportation in U.S. cities. We’ve rode a couple different city busses, and always get cold stares. I think that needs to change. Though a little harder in Alaska due to greater distances and smaller populations, its still possible to commute by bike, or share commutes with a friend.

Varanasi: Music Shop

2012-01-27T22:50:00.001-09:00

While exploring the streets of Varanasi our second evening we stumbled upon a music curio featuring evening performances. Wandering through alleyways we were invited in by a young man. He mentioned a free concert would begin in about 30 minutes, featuring two local musicians.

We entered the studio and left our shoes by the door. The room smelled of incense. Several other tourists already sat cross legged on the floor. A sitar player tuned his instruments many strings while the tabla player adjusted the tension of his drum heads. We made ourself comfortable and waited for the music to begin.

I’ve never been exposed so completely to this style of music. It was beautiful. It was abstract. Sounds ricocheted off the ceiling. My mind struggled to dissect and comprehend each piece. Not that I have a fine tuned ear, but I was reminded of listening to some of my favorite jazz tunes. Body relaxed. Mind thinking, ears listening, it was invigorating. The rhythms and melodies seemed to jump and bounce from one set to another. Just when a yatra felt comfortable it would morph into something new.

The sitar players name was Tarak Nath Mishra. The tabla players name was Bablu Verma.

The show lasted over an hour. The musicians introduced each piece. Briefly explaining its origins and style. Pieces ranged from classical Indian music to traditional folk songs. It was very free, and very improvisational. The players seemed to feed of one another. Not with body language or cues, but a sixth sense. A feeling coming from the ebb and flow of the music through their ears, from their minds. Magically a sitar riff would be partnered with a pop or slap from the tabla. His strums would lead to wild fancy solos. It was amazing to see how many strings could be simultaneously strummed for rhythm while also picked.

Varanasi is known for music.

Weekend Favorites

2012-01-26T07:48:00.000-09:00

As nearly everyone has heard several medium to large solar storms occurred in the last week. The first occurring over Wednesday/Thursday peaked the Aurora Borealis activity Friday/Saturday/Sunday. Then another large coronal mass ejection happened Sunday, elevating activity even more Monday/Tuesday. The skies appeared quiet last night. Thought clouds moved in around Tuesday and have remained, obscuring the skies.

These are a few of my favorites from the long weekend performances.

"Midnight School Lights"

"God's Christmas Lights"

"Showering Light"

"Glowing Black Spruce"

"Arctic Nights"

Keep your eye out for my work. I've submitted photos to National Geographic, Anchorage Daily News, and Spaceweather.

Arctic Midnight & The Morning After

2012-01-22T16:27:00.006-09:00

After only four hours of sleep I awoke to a dog nose punching me in the shoulder. I rolled slightly and felt a wet tongue licking my ear. “Good morning to you to, Jack”. He didn’t seem to mind I was awake until 4am photographing the Aurora Borealis. Because while I was outside working through the night, he was sound asleep, keeping my place in bed warm.

I stumbled out of bed, walked to the window and wondered, did I really see all that color last night? I was still trying to grapple for memories from the evening past. Floating in a cloud of green. Recollecting the ways the sky shifted and changed, from one pattern to the next. I peeked outside the window. Half expecting to see singed and smoldering metallic shrapnel lying on the ground. I understand the science of the Aurora- but it still amazes me. As if fireworks are exploding overhead, yet it all dissipates before reaching my camera- the only thing left is light, spectacular light.

The Geo-Physical Institute called Saturday night, EXTREME, giving it a 5 of 9 on the forecast scale. As Scott Brucker joked, if this was extreme, an 8 must be DEATH according to their scale. I’m amazed how each experience can be truly unique. The Aurora is never boring, and tonight was just another example of that. It totally changed location from the previous evenings. Mostly filling the south eastern sky, then shooting directly over head, and turning to haze before even nearing the north western corner of the sky. The show began a little later then usual, around 11pm I started peeking outside. Not until after midnight did I don all my gear and head out. The performance lasted beyond 3:30am. I came inside only because I had two completely dead camera batteries.

Once again, the photographs speak for themselves. I made one real difference which I feel improved everything drastically. I found switches for the new school, old school, and maintenance garage exterior lights- and shut them all off. Not only did my eyes adjust quicker, but lights appear a little more vivid, and the ground cover is not washed out with yucky florescent light.

Rather then share a series of photos, I have compiled all the time lapse from the weekend into a short two minute movie. The music is composed and performed by Quinn Mason, a student/family friend from Dallas, Texas. Enjoy!

Last Night

2012-01-21T12:28:00.000-09:00

Wednesday and Thursday a couple solar events occurred on the Sun. The remnants of this event reached Earth this weekend. Friday night was a 4 of 10 on the UAF Geo-Physical Institutes forecast. Saturday night, tonight, will be a 5.

This is a preview of several segments of time lapse I've captured and begun working on. I hope to compile a variety of aurora encounters into a mini-movie. Here is about 30 minutes turned into 26 seconds of video.

Last night is near the top of the list for best sightings in my life. The show began quietly around 11:30pm. A few clouds were obscuring the view to the north, as seen in the video. Over the course of the evening the clouds cleared, and the aurora grew and grew. It shifted position slightly traversing the north western sky. The conclusion of the show was nearly the entire sky illuminated in green.

Then, around 3:30am, as quietly as it began, it started to fade. My knees were sore from kneeling behind the tripod, my batteries nearly depleted, and my fingers getting chillier and chiller- it was time to head in. I found photographing the sky in 0F much more comfortable then -55F encountered the weekend before.

So, what's next? I have two goals for tonight. Shut off all the exterior lights on the school. It is the largest building in the village with massive florescent flood lights. I think a lot of the amber glows and odd looking illumination around the ground cover is from the school lights. Then, I'm going to use a snow machine and create some trails up river from my house. This will provide new vantage points overlooking a twinkling village and vast Arctic.

Encore

2012-01-15T02:40:00.000-09:00

Tonights encore presentation of the aurora borealis was different then last. There was no moon, which effected the lighting conditions greatly. I also tried to take more controlled experiments with the camera. Last night I was just all over the place, changing settings, moving the tripod- totally over reacting in the excitement. Tonight I was more precise about making incremental adjustments, in the long run that will be easier to learn from.

One big change tonight was shooting with "Long Exposure Noise Reduction" turned "ON". This basically caused twice as long shutter speeds. Once the timed shutter was complete, it required double the time to process. The biggest difference I see from this is a lot more stars standing out. The actual aurora doesn't seem any more or less vivid.

My next step will be working harder to gaining critical focus. I'm basically manually focused on infiniti. I read an interesting resource that recommended getting auto focus in the day time, then use athletic tape to secure the focus ring before putting it on manual. Then set the lens aside and be careful not to bump it. Since there was no moon, that would have been an ideal way to do it. I tried to use the "Live View" feature of the D700, but the screen was just pitch dark and unhelpful.

At the peak of the storm my battery died. Luckily I had the spare in my parka, but in those precious minutes the aurora peaked and dropped really low towards the river, as briefly seen in the photograph above.

I played a little with the ultra high ISO settings (Nikon H1.0 and H2.0), but I don't like how those images turned out. I even tried playing with lower shutter speeds at those ISO's. Right now I'm happiest with the ISO around 1600 and the shutter speed around 10" - 15" seconds.

I also learned to be a lot more careful with the tripod. I accidentally bent one of the adjustment riser handles trying to force it. The longer I stay in the cold the more brittle the metal, and harder it is to adjust the tripod. Tonight it was around -53F. I found rather then just using the handles, to carefully grab the entire camera and slowly make small adjustments, there is no smooth transition once the materials get that cold. Even my parka fabric sounds different.

Friday Night Lights

2012-01-14T02:25:00.001-09:00

What a night. I finally got to photograph the Aurora Borealis with my new Nikon D700. Just around 11:30pm I peeked outside to find some decent activity. The UAF Geophysical Institute forecast gave tonight a 3 out of 10.

These photos were taken with a Nikon D700 and Nikkor 17-35mm f/2.8 wide angle lens.

Typically I had the camera set on manual priority and the aperture wide open. Since it was my first time using this camera I did a lot of experimenting with shutter speeds and ISO settings. I still have a lot to learn. After about 50 minutes both my batteries died. Despite rotating them through my warm parka, they quit on me. My Nikon MC36 wired remote stopped working after about 30 minutes. So I had to switch to timer delay at two seconds. The air temperature was about -44F.

Most of these shots are looking north by north-west from Arctic Village, across the Chandalar River. The moon shots are looking east.

I was amazed how this camera captured the light, especially compared to my old D80. I used to crank all the settings way up just to capture anything, that was partially my lenses, and partially the camera. I'm still playing with some settings on the D700. I feel like all the photos have a pretty visible vignette. I might either need to turn the vignette control on high, or maybe play with my aperture, though in the dark I don't know what luck I'll have.

The moon coming up was just priceless. I had ample time to play with no moonlight first, then as it creeped up, the northern lights dimmed a bit. I snatched a few moon solo shots, then almost as if they rehearsed it together the moon and aurora started talking to one another, it was awesome. As I'm still learning how to use this camera in the dark, I took a lot of wasted shots, and at times had to turn on my headlamp to make adjustments, ruining my night vision.

These two are my favorite.

Belize: Beaches & Cayes

2012-01-13T19:40:00.000-09:00

Christmas vacation in Belize, it sure sounded like a good escape from the -50F temperatures home in Alaska. When we were looking for places to travel over the holidays, Belize made the short list of warm tropical locales. I think what drew me to Belize was a couple things: excellent SCUBA, close proximity to exotic jungles with Mayan ruins, a culturally diverse people, and less developed then most places in the Caribbean as far as tourism goes. Belize is actually in Central America, while still having "one foot planted in the Caribbean”. In fact Belize is the only English speaking country in Central & Southern America. Its located just south of the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico, east of Guatemala, and north of Honduras. Belize used to be called British Honduras, before gaining independence from the United Kingdom in 1981.

After four flights, one taxi, and one water taxi- we finally made it to San Pedro, Ambergris Caye.

The air temperature was low 80’s during the day, and mid 70’s at night. There was an almost constant gentle breeze coming off the sea that picked up in the afternoon. This kept the mosquitos and other bugs away most of the time. Nicknamed “the mosquito coast” apparently the month of July & August can be brutal. The locals described Belize as having two seasons. Hurricane season and not hurricane season. The weather is fairly constant. Fall time brings a few more rain showers. This time of year it usually sprinkles just a little rain late in the evening or early in the morning before sunrise, otherwise it was clear and dry.

Our primary purpose for coming here was to SCUBA dive. We arranged all our dives months in advance with the Ecological Divers, in San Pedro. These guys are a first class outfit, and I would highly recommend them to anyone. We found diving prices in Belize to be cheaper then other places in the Caribbean. Two tanks was $70.

Belize is known for a couple things. First and foremost is the Blue Hole. Made famous by Jacques Coustou in 1971 when he first rediscovered this geologic anomoly and dove into its depths. The blue hole drops over 400 feet deep. Thousands of years ago, when the oceans were lower, the Blue Hole was a cave complex. After the ice age the oceans raised, and its caves were under the ocean. A sink hole occured and the ocean floor dropped out in an almost perfect circle. Diving down to depths of 120-150 feet reveal massive stalactites, proof it was a cave, and proof the oceans were lower at one time. Stalactites are formed by one thing, water dripping from the ceiling of a cave. We dove to 140 feet, this was the deepest I had ever been.

The water turned about 3-4 degrees colder after passing through the thermocline around 40 feet. We dropped over the lip of the hole and plunged into an abyss. Below the water became darker and darker. The group after us saw Hammerhead Sharks orbiting the hole in the distance. After a few minutes at 140 feet I became very loopy. I had never experienced nitrogen narcosis like this before. It was a very “high" feeling. My face felt tingly. I imagined myself looking back at myself, eyeballs reflecting off mask at myself like a mirror. I tried to focus and get my mind under control. Were I not so scared, I would probably have started humming the Phish song “Bouncing Around The Room”.

I watched as Gretchen, our dive master, and a couple other divers in our party swam slalom around the stalactites. I slowly followed behind, very timid by the way I was feeling. I got Gretchen’s attention and told her I wanted to swim up about 10 feet, giving her the sign for my head is buzzing. When you dive that deep you can’t dive very long. A tank with 3500 psi will last at least 50 minutes in 40 feet of water, maybe longer if you breathe conservatively. At 140 feet we could only stay for 8-10 minutes. It takes a lot longer to decompress safely returning from those depths. We had planned for at least 15 minutes coming back to shallower depths, then a 5 minute safety stop at 15 feet. This may be a bit more conservative then dive charts recommend, but sport diving charters always stray on the safe side.

Belize is home to the second largest barrier reef in the world. It is succeeded only by the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. Here we found the quantity of sea life, and quality of the reef, to be superior to anywhere else we've dove. Whether it was close dive sites minutes away by boat, or the three hour ride to Turneffe and Lighthouse Reef Atoll, they were awesome. From nearly everywhere on the shore the barrier reef is visible on Ambergris Caye. About 1/2 to 3/4 of a mile off shore, it runs the entire length of the island and beyond. At various points they have created cuts through the reef for boats to get out. Most of the popular dive sites are on the sea side of the reef. Due to the off shore reef the water is very calm along the beaches. Off shore, waves can be seen crashing on the shallow reef.

We were both curious about how Christmas would feel in Belize. Leaving behind snow, sweaters and egg nog- I was glad to be reminded of the reason for the season. We worshipped Christmas Eve in a Catholic Church in San Pedro. The 10pm mass featured a childrens Christmas Pagent. The service was half in Spanish and half in English. Our favorite part was the music. The hymns played on a synthesizer to salsa tunes. All the children seemed to be dressed as wise men and shepherds. The baby Jesus was carried in a procession with wise men bringing fruit, plants, and a baby chicken in a cage.

San Pedro is the largest of offshore beach communities. It is a one hour boat ride from Belize City. I should preface that by saying there are no high rise condos or massive resort complexes. It is the biggest in Belize, but very small and modest compared to other beach hotspots in the United States and Caribbean. Cruise ships occasionally visit Belize, but only briefly stop at a shopping village outside Belize City, they do not visit the Cayes. I rarely find a place that makes me want to keep coming back, but Belize is it. Not that I don’t enjoy every place I visit, but my restless spirit brings wonder about so many other countries. I would return to Belize time and time again. Not necessarily going to the same place, but exploring the variety of places it offers. In Belize I felt safe. The people were some of the friendliest in the world.

One of the most popular events in San Pedro is the weekly “Chicken Drop’. At a bar called Wahoos, people purchase lottery tickets for which number they think the chicken will shit on.

Its really quite stupid, but was fun to photograph.

Guessing the right number, could win you as much as $100 BZE.

San Pedro was teeming with quality restaurants and cheap bars. The exchange rate is two BZE dollars for one USA dollar. You can get a beer for $2-3 BZE. A really nice dinner might cost you $40 BZE per person. Its a great place for budget travelers to bum around, and vacationers to get the most for their money.

We statyed at the Ak’bol Yoga Resort. I highly recommend checking this place out if you’re headed to Belize. Owned by an American couple from Chicago, it is very well kept and very well run. The resort is essentially divided by the main thorough fare a mile north of town. On the sea side are 4-5 cottages, 2 yoga studios, and the beach bar/bistro. On the marsh side is the 20+ room yoga barracks. The yoga barracks has private rooms with a shared bath. The rooms are very simple, yet elegant.

Each day yoga classes are conducted at the studio built into the end of the pier. Some people come just for the yoga. We enjoyed the peace and quite of this mature resort that attracted fun intellectual people. Each morning before diving, or afternoon upon return- we sat at the bar, drinking a Belikin Beer, and socializing with visitors.

The owners pup, retired, but enjoying the company during a yoga session in the background

Belize: Jungles & Ruins

2012-01-13T15:50:00.136-09:00

Traveling around Belize you have a variety of options. All international flights land in Belize City, from there the options are endless to choose your own adventure. Several local carriers fly to half a dozen small airports across the country. For $100-200 you can hire a private shuttle to deliver you in exactly the right spot. Or, for $5 bucks you can hop a bus and do it with the locals.

After a week on the coast it was time to head inland. With a few flashbacks to Delhi, India- we deflected bogus offers for help and alternative transportation modes offered, easily finding our bus. Belize is compared in size to Vermont or New Hampshire. Belize City on the eastern border is only about 4 hours by bus from the Guatemala border to the west.

Our first week of travel was planned day by day. We knew where we were staying, how to get there and when we were diving. Our second week wasn’t planned at all. I had a few ideas, and briefly spoke with people in San Pedro, but really wanted to figure it out along the way. I knew there were several options inland, and we knew we wanted to visit some Mayan ruins. So our destination became San Ignacio.

3.5 hours by bus brought us to San Ignacio. San Ignacio could be called the adventure capital of interior Belize. The main street, Burns Avenue, is littered with guide services, advertising a variety of adventures. Caving, tubing, canoeing, hiking, zip lining, and exploring Mayan ruins are all available in the local area. I chose Pacz Tours for two days worth of adventure. The guide book says “when National Geographic comes to Belize, they us Pacz”. That sold it for me. Our first night we signed up for a Tikal tour and ATM Cave tour.

A 30 minute walk from San Ignacio brings you to Cahal Pech, site of a pre-classic Mayan civilization. After paying $10 BZE we were free to wander the ruins. This is one of my favorite photographs from the trip.

The Iguana Rescue Project is associated with the San Ignacio Resort Hotel. I didn’t realize Iguanas were such a delicacy. Throughout Central and South America people capture and eat Iguanas. In some areas they are becoming endangered due to poaching, deforestation, and local predators. The goal of the Iguana Project is raising baby Iguanas to be released into the wild, while also educating tourists and Belizians about protecting this special reptile.

Inside the Iguana habitat we were able to hold a couple of the adult Iguanas.

The Iguana in Gretchens arms, Roxy, is a pregnant female. The Iguana on her shoulder is Gomez, the alpha male of the cage.

There were hundreds of bright green baby Iguanas in the adolescent cage. Once they grow a little bigger they will be released locally into the wild.

We stayed at two different places in San Ignacio. Arriving just before sunset the first day we opted for an easy stay in the Tropical Hotel. It was surprisingly clean, but the mattress was painfully old. So, our second day we looked around for alternatives. We found Bella’s Backpacker Hostel. A private bedroom shared bath hostel. It was quaint and comfortable. There were four private rooms and one dorm room with a loft. The second floor had a very large patio with hammocks and couches for relaxing. I would recommend this place. It was only $20 US per night for both of us.

Our room even had a balcony overlooking the entrance courtyard.

We spent one day at the Mayan Ruins of Tikal in Guatemala. It was about three hours by bus from San Ignacio. Crossing the border into Guatemala everything changed. People spoke spanish. The country side became a littler drier and arid as we climbed into the mountains. A lot of land was cleared for large cattle ranches. Guatemala made Belize look nice. We saw a lot more poverty in Guatemala.

One day was not long enough at Tikal. I appreciated what we saw, but wished I had at least two to three days here. Tikal is in a very remote location. There are one or two resorts and campgrounds onsite. Hundreds of people visit each day, not many stay. With our guide we saw a portion of the main temples and plazas, with extra days we could have freely explored mile upon mile of trails. Archeologists believe 93% of Tikal is still covered with Earth and jungle- its huge.

The weather changed from cloudy, to gray and overcast, to pouring rain as we climbed Temple IV. Giving us a nice afternoon rainforest shower.

The ruins can be very photogenic, but it was hard to capture large scale images without people climbing and lingering on the buildings. Only one of the outer pyramids allows you to climb the natural steps. Several of them have been closed, others have wooden scaffolding built partially up.

While hiking into ATM cave we encountered these leaf cutter ants. They were amazing. Scaling the tree from the ground to remove leaves from the canopy. Then carrying them back down the tree and into their ant hill, somewhere off in the jungle. The ants are actually following a chemical trail left behind by their leader.

Exploring the ATM cave was loads of fun. Check out the video in a previous post.

After riding the bus back to Belize City we had several hours to kill before heading to the airport. The Museum of Belize has several nice exhibits. It is located in the old Jail.

Belize: Actun Tunichil Muknal Cave

2012-01-07T20:32:00.000-09:00

I can see why Belize is quickly becoming one of the adventure capitals of the Caribbean/Central American region. With pristine coast line and lush jungles it offers a plethora of tours, trips, and eco-centric adventures. I’ll delve more into details later, this post is just to highlight the Actun Tunichil Muknal Cave tour.

After pouring over my Lonely Planet Belize we chose a couple key things to do. With only a few days in the jungle we wanted to maximize our adventure. The “ATM” cave as its nicknamed, was well worth $90 US per person.

This special cave was unknown to the world until the mid 1990’s. It was rediscovered when a local farmer decided to show his private museum to archaeologists. Under strict supervision by the Belize Audubon and National Parks they have restricted general access to this area. Only 16 local guides are licensed and authorized to take small tour parties into the cave. Mayawalk and Pacz Tours, both based in San Ignacio are the hosts.

After an hour long bus ride from San Ignacio, we arrived in a dirt parking lot where several other vans were already parked. The terrain is hilly and lush. The soil muddy from the daily rains this time of year. The trail to the cave crosses three rivers which have to be forded. Before swimming into the cave we changed into climbing helmets and turned on our headlamps. The mouth of the cave has a majestic creek flowing out. We scrambled over a couple slippery rocks before plunging into the deep pool of water into the Mayan Underworld.

After scrambling over 1km into the Earth we reached the inner chamber. During the Classic Period the Mayans brought a variety of sacrifices here. Starting with various pots that were broken and placed in sacrificial positions. Traveling further into the cave were rock formations shaped like alters where humans were bled in home to appease the gods. Finally we crossed into the main chamber containing the remains of 14 humans that were sacrificed. Skulls and assorted bones litter the floor. At the back of the chamber lies an almost fully intact human skeleton.

This tour was well worth it, as long as you don't mind being wet all day.

Belize: A Swimming Hole

2012-01-07T11:03:00.001-09:00

Music Camp: "Gwich'in Princess"

2011-12-10T15:09:00.002-09:00

As part of Dancing With The Spirit staff this year Belle invited Wilbert Kendi. Hailing from the other side of the Gwich’in Nation, across the Canadian border. Wilbert is from Fort McPherson, Northwest Territories. In the video, students perform one of Wilbert's songs, “Gwich’in Princess”.

Beth's Visit to Arctic Village

2011-11-26T12:45:00.000-09:00

My sister who lives in Colorado came up to Arctic Village this week for Thanksgiving. She experienced the coldest temps she has ever been in (-35), flew in a small plane for the first time, got to ride a snow machine for the first time, ski joured for the first time and ate caribou for the first time! We had a fun filled week! I am so glad she got to come see first hand where we live. Stories and pictures just can't explain it all.

Check out this video of Beth's visit.

So who will be the next to come visit?

Chasing Turkey

2011-11-24T16:38:00.001-09:00

In typical Alaska tradition, we went for a before Thanksgiving ski. If I were in South Central Alaska I would probably be out backcountry skiing with Matt Johnson. Since moving deep into the interior we went for a cross country tour of Arctic Village.

Beth and Gretchen all smiles despite -15 temps.

Scott, a fellow Yukon Flats teacher from Venetie, came to visit for the long weekend. This is his first winter cross country skiing and he's doing really well!

Beth tries her hand at ski jouring with Jack.

Jack getting some stoke on the Chandalar River.

School Thanksgiving

2011-11-23T23:24:00.000-09:00

i'm thankful for my school

i'm thankful for my students

i'm thankful for what we've learned

i'm thankful for the feast we prepared

i'm thankful for the feast we shared

i'm thankful for humility

i'm thankful for grace

i'm thankful for our leaders

i'm thankful for followers

i'm thankful for sharing

i'm thankful for friendships

i'm thankful for knowledge

we all have so much to be thankful for

Tournament Favorites

2011-11-23T22:54:00.001-09:00

Here are a couple of my favorite photographs hot off the camera from this weeks Yukon Flats Volleyball Tournament.

I'm planning on doing a more in depth post, but wanted to share a few gems first.

The prelude to the main event was a traditional game called "stick-pull". Rival students sit facing one another, feet touching, leaning forward grasping a stick. The first person to let go of the stick loses.

The winning school keeps the stick until the following year. Arctic Village won last year, so we brought the stick with us. After a tough battle Beaver won and gained control of the stick.

After two long days of volleyball the festivities ended with a fiddle dance. Trimble one of the Traditional Chiefs for the region, and esteemed fiddle player took center stage.

Belle and her son Mike hosted a Dancing With the Spirit music camp run alongside the volleyball tournament. You might recognize them from last years post, Music Camp.

Stay tuned for more photos and stories from this fun filled field trip.

Saturday Ride

2011-10-29T15:36:00.002-08:00

Saturday morning we awoke to crystal blue skies and crisp cold weather. Overnight lows dropped to -10. Noonday sunshine brought the temperature to about 0. I decided to warm up my “snow-go” and check out how the winter trails were shaping up. Locals have been setting wood trails with snow machines for about three weeks now. I found no one has ridden on the river or large bodies of water yet, but frozen boggy areas and the tundra are filling in nicely with snow.

At $10 a gallon, throttle therapy can be a pricey affair. Weather forecasts are calling for more snow this week, and within a few weeks the large lakes should be solid all the way across. Rumor has it Caribou are within sight of the village, but I didn’t see any signs of the herd.

More Skiing with the Kids

2011-10-29T10:30:00.001-08:00

We have been busy! I went skiing almost every day last week. The kids love taking turns ski jouring with Jack.

Sam took some of this video while following us on the snow machine and I took some of it while skiing alongside the kids.

Skiing with the Kids

2011-10-27T09:38:00.000-08:00

Arctic Village Ski Team

Conditions have been fantastic to get out and ski in Arctic this fall. I dug out a bunch of skis, found boots that fit the bindings on the skis and now we are ready to go.

And they're off! The kids ski without poles because we don't have any, but actually it has really helped them develop great balance. They all remembered what they learned last year and our first two days out went really well.

As we get spread out, I look around to see how everyone is doing.

I am trying to explain to the kids that we need to spread out so that we can herringbone up the hill.

We were all sliding backwards as a group!

On the road the snow is packed by snow machines, but as soon as you get off the road you are all on your own!

Jack pulled me with two kids in tow!

We rigged up another harness so that Caesar could pull too.

He did pretty well as long as he had Jack to chase.

More to follow......

From Fall to Winter - Anaktuvuk Pass

2011-10-08T18:55:00.000-08:00

Recently, I got to spend a few days in Anaktuvuk Pass for work. The flight up to AKP was like jumping straight from fall to winter. We left Fairbanks, full of fall colors.....

And flew into snow covered peaks....

After a busy day of visits, we enjoyed an amazing sunset. It was the kind of view that makes you take a deep breath and stand in awe.

The snow only comes half way down the mountains now, but by the time I go back in a few months I'm sure it will be on the ground!

A lot of people ask, "how can you fly in small planes all the time?" My response is that you are more likely to die in a car wreck than a small plane, and I would rather be in a plane because I get to see this..

I left the sound on the video, so that you can get the full effect of what it is like riding around in a grand caravan over the Brooks Range. I did speed up the video a little though, Caravans don't fly that fast!

Castner Glacier Hike

2011-09-12T10:23:00.000-08:00

Thanks to the Yukon Flats School District bringing us into town for an inservice- we were able to take off for the weekend on a hike. So Saturday morning we raced down the Richardson Highway with the Fall colors in full bloom and sprinkling rain showers. Our destination, the Delta Mountains of the Eastern Alaska Range. This is an area I really haven't explored at all, except from the drivers seat racing down the highway at 70mph coming or going between Anchorage and Fairbanks...

The Castner Glacier is easily accessible from the highway just South of the Black Rapids camp. Within a mile of the truck we were upon this expansive chunk of ice nearly totally covered in rock, scree, mud, and a mix of tundra like vegetation.

Enjoy the video!

Anniversary Hike

2011-09-05T01:03:00.000-08:00

Happy Labor Day weekend everyone! And for us, Happy 6th Anniversary. We celebrated the occasion with another great hike from the village. I have never lived so close to the backcountry before. It's amazing to literally walk out your back door and into the woods. There are no cars, no parking lots, no entrance fees, and most importantly, no holiday weekend crowds.

This trip originally began as a traverse of the Phillip Smith Mountains, summiting Misty Mountain and ending up in the Junjik River valley. After a late start Saturday morning and limited capacity for two people in one packraft, plans changed. I was inspired by Roman Dials trips with his wife sharing a packraft together. After two minutes in our boat we quickly realized Roman and his wife must be a tad shorter then us... The hike would have been about 30 miles hiking across one pass and 45 miles floating two rivers. Upon reaching the far shore of the Chandalar River we quickly set our sights upon the craggy Under Cloud Mountain. This peak has tempted me for the last year. A spectacular rocky spine runs all the way up to the summit from the valley floor. There are several approachable routes from the South and West via steep tundra slopes. As we climbed the rain gradually turned to mist, eventually clearing for an awesome view of the Chandalar Valley from the summit. We followed another ridge due West for at least another two miles before dropping into an adjacent valley for the night. After sliding down a heinous scree chute we wound up in a peaceful meadow camp site. We quickly pitched our tent and retreated from the rain. Sunday morning greeted us with thick cloud cover, so we made the decision not to attempt any more nearby peaks, and began the slog back to the village.

In total we hiked 13 miles Saturday, and 10 miles Sunday. On Saturday we traveled about 3/4 of a mile in the packraft, "ferrying" across the river. Then Sunday we traveled almost 2.5 miles in the packraft, launching from up river of the village.

Check out the video of our adventure.

Paddle Mountain

2011-08-29T17:51:00.000-08:00

Despite having lived in Arctic Village, my jaunts into the countryside have been limited. Being overwhelmed as a first year teacher, I restricted travel to only a couple hours, usually just taking short hikes or ski excursions in close proximity to the school. So Saturday when I was invited to climb one of the nearby peaks I jumped at the opportunity.

For the last two months three photographers from New York have been working in Arctic Village. They came from a college on a grant to study, record, and capture the story of the Gwich'in people. Through video interviews and photographs this professor and two students hopes to capture the essence of what its like to live North of the Arctic Circle. As the professor briefly explained to me, its part of a life long project he's called "Polar Souls". He's fascinated by communities living in such remote, sometimes inhospitable locations in both the Northern and Southern Hemispheres.

Sunday morning we shoved off the shore of the Chandalar River in two inflatible kayaks. Our group of four paddled about 1.25 miles downriver. We began our hike on the far shore. The first and last three miles of the hike would become some of the hardest hiking I've ever done. Forget steep inclines or hiking at elevation, crossing tundra tussocks was exhausting. Totally draining the energy out of every muscle as you not only use legs, but core strength to balance on these floating islands of grass. It was like walking on marbles. And forget stepping inbetween the grass domes, some gaps were shallow, while others caused you to sink knee deep in freezing water or muck.

Our climb began on the slopes of Paddle Mountain. We navigated towards a narrow ridge, eventually rising above scrub line and flanking around the main scree covered slopes of the massive mountain just west of Arctic Village. Topping out at 4750ft, the vista provided new views North and West deep into the foot hills and larger peaks of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR).

We arrived back to the school boat ramp almost 12 hours after we had left. The total hike covered 9.5 miles, and the total paddle was 2.5 miles. Linda, our school Special Education greeted us with warm stew (thanks Linda)!

After an amazing day in the wilderness, we were blessed with a spectacular sunset.

New Blog Title

2011-08-26T16:22:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about changing the title of this blog. With much regret I just think its time to retire it.

Back to Arctic

2011-08-19T22:00:00.001-08:00

After a three month exodus, we returned last Saturday to Arctic Village. Unlike last year we knew what we were getting ourselves into. The pilot remembered our names and wanted to hear all about our Summer adventures. As our Cessna rose out of Fairbanks into thick cloud cover I began to reminisce on what I had left three months before. Suddenly the clouds cleared and the vast tundra began to look familiar below us. The mighty Yukon River marking the halfway point. Numerous ponds growing smaller as the flats turned to rolling hills and finally the splendid Brooks Range loomed in the distance.

As we landed in Arctic Village many familiar faces greeted us at the airport. I was a bit surprised at first not to see a larger greeting party, but discovered many families were "up mountain" hunting or in Fairbanks for the State Fair. The village looked the same, but much greener then when we left. Arctic Village has received an unusual amount of rain this Summer. Our friend and colleague Linda picked us up from the airport in the school truck. I hopped in back with the luggage. Jack and I proudly waving to passersby in chariot like style.

Unlike last year, we didn't start the year with Science Camp. Instead the Council of Athabascan Tribal Governments (CATG) had an annual meeting all week. The gathering brought in Elders and Chiefs from all the surrounding villages- Venetie, Fort Yukon, Beaver, Stevens, and the big village of Fairbanks. The event provided a forum for a series of discussions on everything from subsistence hunting to alcohol and drug abuse, as well as preserving oral history and caring for elders. I took my students to attend several of the meetings. The week concluded with a youth specific talking circle in which all my students expressed their concerns and shared ideas with the council about the future.

Due to the hectic nature of having so many out of town guests in Arctic, we decided to take our students on a hike today. To the East of the village is Dachunlee', a sacred mountain where many families set up hunting camps in the Fall. I was so proud of everyone, even the First and Second graders walked almost all the way up the mountain. We ate lunch and toured several of the hunting camps. While the older students and I climbed to the upper ridge, Gretchen remained in camp with the younger students pulling squirrels from traps and cleaning them to eat.

In total we hiked 10 miles under gorgeous blue skies. For some kids heading out to hunting camps is a common occurrence, for others this is a special treat as they usually get left in the village. One student was ecstatic about the hike, saying it was only the third time in his life he had climbed this luminous hill overlooking the village. He couldn't remember the last time his Uncle had taken him to hunting camp, but he knew it was when he was much smaller.

I feel like the year is off to a good start for me. My classroom feels much more setup then it was this time last year. As a second year teacher I'm overflowing with ideas to integrate into my lesson plans. Monday really marks the first full day of classes at the start of a full week of school. I have a feeling with dozens of charter flights leaving the village today, it will seem empty this weekend. With most of the out of town guests departed I'm really praying the focus becomes getting kids enrolled into school and kicking off the academic year.

Teacher Housing

2011-08-16T22:22:00.000-08:00

Gretchen and I arrived to Arctic Village not really sure where we would be living, but hoping for district housing. Thanks to the gracious help of my coworker Linda and generous new Principal, this was possible. After one night sleeping in our old cabin, we moved into teacher housing.

Teacher housing is located in old school building, directly across from the current school building.

This is the back porch which has some spectacular views overlooking the Chandalar River.

Views off the back porch at sunset.

Gretchen and Jack settling into our living room.

Jack has a nice comfy bed in each room.

Jack loves the new apartment so much he wanted to be in each photo.

Teacher housing is fully loaded with indoor plumbing and running water. We also have gas heat which will be really nice in the upcoming winter.

The master bedroom.

Jack is very comfortable in his new quarters!

Nubra Valley

2011-07-29T20:40:00.000-08:00

Visiting Nubra Valley in a way felt like coming home. In a lot of ways it reminded me of Arctic Village. We didn’t board a tiny Cessna and fly two hours into the remote Alaskan wilderness, instead we rode in a Toyota over the highest highway in the world. Nubra Valley was the Yukon Flats of Ladakh. Small villages spread throughout a desolate yet beautiful valley. Vast spaces filled with daunting mountains, huge valleys and unique wildlife. Warmhearted indigenous people living the way they have for thousands of years. It was inspiring.

From Leh we immediately began climbing the partially paved, mostly dirt highway up over Khardung La pass. This is the highest highway in the world. The top of the pass peaks at 5360 meters. For about two hours we wound our way through tight switchbacks opening up to large hanging valleys. We stopped briefly for photographs, and to test the effects of elevation on our lungs. This was the highest Gretchen and I had ever been- 17,582 feet.

Atop the highest point we cared to climb, our guide, pulled out a roll of prayer flags. In ritual fashion, we planned to hang them with hundreds of others. First, unrolling the brightly colored cloth. Then finding a nearby fire pit. We relit some incense and dangled the roll of flags in the smoke. The smoke cleanses the flags before hanging. Next, we each held a flag to our forehead and said a prayer. Our guide, reciting his own mantra. I prayed for safe travels, for loved ones far away, for guidance and direction, and to be used for good in the world, a servant. Seven months later I know my flags are still there, dangling in Himalayan skies.

Nubra Valley is home to several unique features and creatures. The double humped Bactrian camel lives here. Our guide enthusiastically hoped we would opt for a ride. Gretchen and I promptly replied “NO”! A month since our last camel encounter, my bottom was still bruised. There are also spectacular sand dunes worth exploring.

No visit to Nubra is complete without seeing the newest, outdoor sitting Buddha at Diskit. The statue provided a nice contrast with the vibrant blue sky and rugged landscape. The Buddha was completed in 2010. Funny enough, the Buddha seemed to be watching the Pakistan border. Looking up valley, the border is less than 20 miles away.

We spent the evenings at the Lha Rimo Resort. The word “resort” should be used loosely, but the accommodations were adequate. We had a basic room with hot shower. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were included. The size of the resort provided a very intimate setting. Nearly half the guesthouses were empty. In the evenings only a few families gathered in the dinning room for traditional North Indian and Tibetan meals.

On a clear day, looking up the Nubra Valley towards Pakistan, K2 is visible. The second highest mountain in the world, located in the Hindu Kush of the Himalaya. Unfortunately this time of year it tends to be cloudy at the higher elevations with monsoon storm systems moving in.

Our last evening in the valley we visited a local community hall for a traditional dance. I was again reminded of dances back home in the Yukon Flats. Women dressed in home made clothing. Men played a variety of instruments. Two drums and a woodwind instrument similar to an oboe. Children watched and occasionally joined the women in dances. It was wonderful.

For an encore the audience was pulled from their seats and formed a “congo line”. We made several laps around the circular tent, made from an old military parachute. The culture dance lasted nearly 1.5 hours. At the end, I briefly felt like less of a tourist, and more of a guest. These people warmly brought us into their home, sharing their sacred traditions. Past down through generations living in this distant place. We drank several glasses of Chang, a traditional home brew made from fermented barley and butter. Though we didn’t speak their language, laughter is universal.

I was sad to leave Nubra Valley. Climbing back up the pass meant a lot of things. We were quickly nearing the end of our trip. One more night in Leh and we would fly back to lower India. I thought for a long time on places I’ve visited in my life, that I may never visit again. Could Nubra Valley be one of those places? This spectacular valley might be another one of those places. I stared frantically the countryside, trying to capture every image possible in my mind. I thought how many other places in my life will I never see again? I don’t like goodbyes, especially with places like Nubra Valley.

Ladakh: Leh & Beyond

2011-07-28T23:02:00.000-08:00

Long drawn out bus rides, some with multiple interchanges and layovers always seem to end in a frenzy. After two days and 485km traveling the second highest highway in the world, we arrived in Leh. It was just after dusk. We disembarked our dusty bus to a scurry of taxi’s and porters tossing luggage across the parking lot. It can be overwhelming at first. The daunting feeling of being in a brand new place, while all your earthly belongings are floating around. Your senses are heightened to an uncomfortable state of alertness, while you quickly try and push aside the grogginess from traveling. This was again, not time to hesitate. We first fought to grab our backpacks, then quickly pushed outside the huddle. I found a taxi, and we were on our way.

After nearly a month of day by day devising our plan- we opted for a guide service and hotel package in Leh. I have no regrets doing this. With only a week to spend in the province of Ladakh, it was well worth it. As we would discover, this is a very large area to cover in a short period of time. Unlike places in what I’ll call, “mainland” India, this hidden province operated on even different schedules. With a driver we were able to see multiple sights in a day. The hotel included in the package was Hotel Omasilla. It was on the more moderate of hotels we stayed in- but well worth it. The rooms were spacious and very comfortable. Our hot water was plentiful, a wonderful upgrade from the cheap limited options we found in Uttarakhand. And best yet, each nights stay included a free meal in the hotel restaurant, a five star all you can eat buffet. Any weight gained on this trip was surely put on at this point. Each night after a long day exploring, I gorged on delicious Indian, Tibetan, Nepalese, and Chinese cuisine.

We really liked Leh. It had a similar mountain adventurer feel as Shimla and Manali, while being much more influenced in the zen like state of Buddhism. As the pace of life in the lower Himalayan provinces was a little higher tempo, Leh was relaxed, almost easy going.

The climate could be some what compared to northern Arizona or New Mexico. It was very dry. Yet the Indus River ran through the main valley below, allowing for a fertile strip of farmland down the center. Surrounding hillsides were dotted with monasteries, shrines, temples, and stupas.

Leh sits at an elevation of over 3500 meters. The surrounding peaks easily top 6000 meters. Nearby Stok Gangri is the tallest at 6150 meters. In the photo below you can see the sandy tone of the mountains, with taller snow capped peaks in the distance. In the foreground you can see the lush evergreen trees the grow within the city.

Like a sea cove, Leh is nestled in a large valley uphill from the Indus. The main valley runs north west towards Pakistan. We would later travel up the valley to visit a couple monasteries.

Walking around Changspa Lane, the tourist section of Leh you can hear a variety of languages spoken. French, Dutch, Hebrew, Japanese, English, and Spanish were just a few. Cool guy neo-hipsters raced by on Enfield motorcycles. For only 800 rupees a day you could rent a motorbike and watch people stare as your dreadlocks blow in the breeze through these narrow streets. We often strayed from the main drag into the real Leh. Stopping at large prayer wheels to listen as bazaars became enlivened with business. Children played in the streets and monks picked out produce from the market stands nearby. Tibetan refugees have taken home here, setting up craft stands, selling a variety of goods, along with “FREE TIBET” stickers.

While we were splurging a bit for a nice hotel at the end of our trip- Leh was filled with cheap guesthouses. It would be easy to arrive without a reservation and find someplace nice to stay, even on a shoe string budget. It also seemed like there were plenty of treks and climbs constantly heading into the mountains. In the future I will return to Leh, I would even plan an entire trip just in Ladakh based out of Leh. I’m not sure I would opt for the two day bus ride again, multiple flights a day come from Delhi. Making travel a little easier.

Our first stop was at the palace in Stok, across the Indus Valley from Leh. Summer weather is typically warm and dry- providing stellar blue skies for photographing the monasteries and palaces.

The beautiful massif of Stok Kangri. With 3-4 extra days we would have had ample time to hop on a climbing party and tag this peak. In India, and the Himalaya, they consider these trekking peaks. Despite elevation, the summits can be easily climbed in minimal time with basic mountaineering skills and equipment.

From Stok we traveled just south, back across the valley to Thikse. This gompa, or monastery, is over 500 years old. Now, 100 monks still currently live and work here. The gompas are vibrant with color, a nice contrast to the beautiful blue skies and light brown sand of the landscape. The epicenter of each site is the prayer room and Buddha statue. Prayer room walls are always adorned with ornate murals of the life of Buddha. Bench seats circle the room with age old velvet pillows on the floor. Most still have no electricity, yak butter lamps burn in the corner. The outer walls are lined with cabinets containing various idols and miniature Buddha statues.

Color, color, and more color!

The River Indus, originating from the Tibetan Plateau of China, briefly scurries through India before running all the way across Pakistan to the ocean. With heavy winter snow, and some rain- the Indus sustains people throughout the year where little life might not exist otherwise.

Small prayer wheels line walkways entering and leaving the monastery complex. With each prayer you walk and spin the wheel, clockwise only.

A Buddha sits ornately decorated. Each large Buddha is crafted and placed differently. Typically enclosed, and all in different postures. There were sitting Buddhas and standing Buddhas. There were teaching Buddhas and future Buddhas. Each held a story from the life and religious practice of early Buddhism.

Our third day in Ladakh we traveled 110km to the village of Lamaryu. Within an hour of leaving Leh the highway turned into twisty canyons. We passed the confluence of the Indus and Zanskar Rivers. Then, turned out of the main valley and climbed what felt like an hours work of switch backs. The vegetation was all but gone, it felt as if we were headed to Mars. Even today, crews were still blasting away mountains to widen the road that continually erodes down steep cliffs to raging rivers. We briefly stopped for thirty minutes as construction crews worked diligently to keep these routes open through the summer.

The monastary in Lamaryu is over 1000 years old. We explored this gorgeous place, spun the prayer wheels a couple times, and headed back to Leh. Only a few minutes out of town we picked up a hitchhiker. The boy was dressed in monk motif. With the help of our guide as an interpreter, we learned the boy was actually 16, and had been a monk for 6 years. He was very shy, but honest about his passion to help others and live his life as a monk. He traveled several times a year to nearby gompas and back home to see his family. On the way back to Leh we stopped in the town of Alchi. This tiny village about 30 minutes off the highway is home to 5 temples. These memorials or gompas, contain Buddha statues over 1000 years old. The highlight here though is gorgeously painted ornate mandalas on the walls. Tiny doors mark the entrance to these buildings. The shortened doorways are intentially built so anyone entering the chamber will boy to Buddha as they enter. Once inside, you walked around the room clockwise, pausing to inspect the amazing paintings on the walls. In this culture Mandalas are not only art, but stories of the life of Buddha, and other holy Buddhists. They are gazed upon in a circular fashion, as your eye travels from the outer rings to the inner rings of the circle. They are a story. You not only learn of the life of a Buddha, but values and morals associated with this practice.

Manali

2011-07-23T21:00:00.000-08:00

Manali was one of the coolest, hippest, dare I say trendiest places we visited. Despite a very un-India feeling at times, it was really quite quaint and comfortable. The “mountain scene” was alive with travelers from all over the world. It felt like The Beach. Having traveled halfway around the world, we were surrounded by hundreds of people that looked just like us. This was certainly the epicenter for western neo-wanderers in northern India.

Our bus from Shimla dropped us in the heart of Manali. We pre-purchased bus tickets for the following morning to embark on a two day journey over the second highest highway in the world to Leh. All we wanted was a nice place to relax for the afternoon and a quiet place to spend the night. Typically I resist all barrages of husslers at the bus stops trying to offer me a ride, or hoping I will stay at their brothers hotel. One man in particular in Manali was dressed a little different from the others. After turning and walking away from a couple other pushers, this petite nicely dressed man explained he had a new clean guesthouse with one room available in Old Manali. I kindly replied “no thank you” and walked further down the street. After gaining our bearings Gretchen and I glanced at the travel guide book. As I was looking up from the pages I noticed the same petitie man standing in front of me. He once again offered his services, and said he had a car right around the block which could take us to his house. I decided to trust this one, and told him we would first look at the room, then decide.

Old Manali is about 5 kilometers north of Manali. Nestled in the woods. Roads still unpaved, much of the town only accesible by foot. We parked the Tata, and walked a couple minutes through alleys and trails back to his guesthouse. I was thankful we chose to go with him, today we found a very nice, very small, very clean and accomodating guesthouse. Once again, it was someplace I could have spent weeks relaxing and exploring.

It was Cheech and Chongs wildest dreams, the streets were literally over growing with marijuana. Nearly every where in Old Manali we found shrubs of marijuana plants growing. I’m not really sure who they belonged to. At times little gangs of Indian men seemed to be watching them, other times they were just growing in-between other flora.

Manali was more embellished then most places. If you didn’t come with the right about of bohemian clothing, hemp bags and tie die t-shirts- no worries, they could be purchased from nearly every bazaar. It was actually hard to find something authentic from India here. We ate in a Mexican restaurant that also featured Greek, Italian, and Israeli food. Across the street they served Heineken from behind an espresso bar.

The countryside around Manali was very different from Shimla. After leaving the hill stations we twisted over and around a series of ridges and mountains. Deep within the Kullu Vally lies Manali. As the valley widened from the Beas River drainage, orchards and farms filled the land. Buddhist red, green, blue, white, and yellow prayer flags hung from everything. Across bridge spans, throughout trees and houses- prayers flags blew in the gentle breeze. The people changed along with the landscape. Thousands of Tibetans call this part of India home since being thrown out of China. The Dalai Lama lives only 100 kilometers way in Dharmsala, India.

Sadly we awoke just after sunrise, had a nice breakfast and left Manali. Our stay in the Kullu Valley was briefly extended when our bus failed to shift out of second gear. For 15 minutes the driver blocked a major switchback in the road out of town. He jolted back and forth trying to get from 1st to 2nd and finally 3rd gear before he called it quits. The bus gently rolled back into a pull over and we waited for our backup bus to arrive. Moments like this quickly remind you where you are. Not that accidents don’t happen in other places, but the buffoonery in cultural differences is amusing. It felt like the bus driver thought he would be able to drive the bus another 495 kilometers without those gears if he could only get around that one turn. Not only that, but several locals came over and tinkered with the bus for at least 20 minutes before deciding it was inoperable. Like they could magically put a curse on the transmission to work in all gears. I’m not a mechanic, but I think low gears are important when you’re driving a bus loaded with people over steep mountains passes at extremely high elevations. So what else do you do in these types of situations? Find the closest chai shack and wait for a new bus to come.

The second highest highway in the world travels 500 kilometers from Manali into the northern province of Ladakh and its main hub city, Leh. Squeezed between Pakistan, China, and Nepal- you might recognize the other name for this territory, Kashmir. Over the last 60 years the border here between Pakistan and India has been constantly disputed and fought over. Where artillery volleys are fired across jagged glacier peaks and valleys. Thousands of troops sit just a few kilometers from one another, waiting. Its actually quite sad. The acreage is petty. Yes its gorgeous country, but not worth dying over. The real victims here are the Tibetans. Displaced from their true home in China. They make the majority of the population in Ladakh, with only a few Hindu’s that have migrated from over the mountains. Several of the even more remote valleys around Leh have indigenous communities that have lived and survived here for thousands of years.

The landscape is remote and desolate. Rocky peaks as far as the eye can see. This highway has only been open to westerners since 1989. Before that, a few wary travelers visited from the western part of the province by way of Sringar on the rim of Kashmir. The average mountain pass was around 3500 - 4700 meters, the highest pass at 5360 meters. This was the highest elevation I had ever been to. Nearly 17,000 feet. Surprisingly we both felt fine. After spending several weeks at altitude, I think we were prepared.

Gretchen in her usual travelers posture, me on the lookout.

We spent one night along the highway in a tent camp near the village of Keylong; a little less than halfway. The scenery gave a lot of time to think. We rarely passed other vehicles, except the occasional military convoy or road construction crew. The landscape varied from narrow valleys, our road hanging over cliffs, to wide open vistas and epic mountain passes. Our bus puttered up the passes at about 20-30 mph, then sped across wide open deserts. Midway the second day we spent hours crossing a wide dusty valley. It must have been as dry as a desert. It probably was a desert. I couldn’t imagine this place during the winter The Earth was bone dry, the slightest breeze blew huge dust clouds across the valley. The sand was fine and blew everywhere. Closing the windows wasn’t enough, it was circulating through the bus ventilation system. At times the road looked like a braided river, spreading out in multiple channels, our experienced bus driver carefully choosing the right way. At times his conductor dismounted and checked the route.

There aren’t to many settlements along the highway. Small populations of indigenous people have built summer shacks to serve soda pop and noodles to tourists. Tanned by the sun, their faces always happy to see tourists arrive. We gathered in round tents drinking milk tea, listening to stories from motorcyclists brave enough to travel this route.

It was hard to compare these mountains to anywhere else I have been. At times, they reminded me of drier places in the southern rockies or mountains of New Mexico. Except there were no trees and little snow left from the extreme sun.

We arrived in Leh well after dark. Amidst a swarm of taxi’s at the bus stand we broke free and headed to our hotel.

Hill Stations: Mussoorie & Shimla

2011-07-20T20:41:00.000-08:00

Hill stations are British Empire era' communities that grew as an escape from the thick summer heat of low land India. Starting at around 2000 meters, they are usually easily accessible by rail or road. Some, like Mussoorie are still very popular with upper caste families from Delhi. Others, like Shimla, were born as the British summer capital and have maintained their quaint architecture and appeal years after Indian independence.

After leaving Gangotri deep in the heart of the Uttarakand Himalaya, we backtracked south along the same route towards Rishikesh. Once again we woke very early and walked to the local bus stand. I believed we would be able to catch an empty bus shuttling back towards the flat land. Part of the pilgrimage tradition is to ride a vehicle to Gangotri, hike to the Gomokh glacier, then walk all the way back to at least Haridwar, or even all the way home as far as Delhi or beyond in the communities of Uttar Pradesh. Since you don’t have a map in front of you, I will briefly explain that is a long way. Gangotri is over 250 kilometers from Rishikesh. Haridwar is another 30 kilometers from Risikesh. I don’t even know far Delhi is, at least 700 kilometers- we’re talking great distances. These are distances that take weeks, if not a month or more to cover.

As we finally hailed an empty jeep and headed south, I got my first real chance to watch these wary walkers making the pilgrimage. When I go for a hike I generally wear adequate walking shoes or hiking boots. I carry a pack with water and snacks, and usually don’t wear excessive clothing or jewelry. These groups of mostly men were walking in sandals, or barefoot. They carried nothing except souvenir jugs of water filled from the Mother Ganga. Yet they looked like the most cheerful people on Earth. Singing, dancing, talking, and smiling as they walked these rough and rugged roads home. The scene reminded me more of a college football tailgate then a rustic crippling pilgrimage. We were amazed at their dedication to the cause and belief in the importance of what they were doing, not only for themselves, but their families.

Traveling by jeep we once again got up close and personal with the local people. We generally can’t communicate with most of the people in shared jeeps. Most jeep travelers tend to me young uneducated non-english speaking males, but occasionally a mother daughter, or pair of sisters will hop on with a big brother. The jeep drivers always decorate their vehicles in the most ornamental fashion. Statues of Krisna, Vishnu, Shiva, and Ganesh decorate the dashboard. Plastic lotus flowers dangle from the rearview mirror. The latest hindi pop music blares from the stereo. It’s actually a lot of fun, once you get past the loud stares and communication barrier. Of course the constant motion sickness and imminent threat of landslide from above isn’t much fun- but hey, you’re in India, get over it.

It took us almost an entire day to travel from Gangotri to Mussoorie. We left in early morning pitch black dark and arrived at dusk. Traveling by jeep was relatively easy minus a strange argument in Uttarkashi. I have no idea what was said in this twenty minute dispute, but its amazing how certain body languages are universal across languages. I interpreted the driver and one of the passengers was very upset about a bargained price for a ride. Every route generally has a set price for rides to and from major points, but the majority of people get on some where in between, and hop off way before the end- thus without a handy taxi meter, fare prices can become negotiable. I think the driver gave a fair price, and I assumed that because the first two friends quickly paid upon getting out of the jeep. Then, the third man must have been upset by either the price, the quality of his seat cushion, or just the principle of not being able to haggle the cost down. Gretchen and I sat there, heads on a swivel, as these two went back and forth. I knew the debate wasn’t to bad because several police officers walked by, not even thinking about getting involved. Finally the man paid up, and we went on down the road to Chamba.

Traveling by jeep and bus I quickly learned not every town, village, city, or neighborhood you pass through is in the travel guide, in fact, most places are not. Sometimes you had to trust your instinct, or in this case, Gretchen had to trust me. Chamba was one of those places. It was almost as large as every other place we had visited in the guide book, but only received one quick sentence saying it is the ideal spot to catch a bus changing routes between cities. Thus we got dropped off here by our jeep, and wandered for fifteen minutes trying to find the bus stand. Its funny how quickly people understand the sign for “confused western travelers”. Yet again another example of how safe I felt in India, and how it was a wonderful place to travel. When you be patient, try talking to people, and trust in your navigation skills you will find what you’re looking for. The bus stand wasn’t exactly a bus stand, but series of city blocks where the same buses always parked. Upon seeing a couple busses we began asking the conductors and were pointed to our bus. We boarded an extremely crowded commuter bus and headed west for Mussoorie.

The country side along the foot hills was full of orchards and honeymoon retreats. A lot of farmers have decided its more economical to convert spare bedrooms into guest houses, and clear trees to offer spectacular views. Over time more resorts have popped up, and its quickly becoming a premium destination for domestic and international couples nestled in the hills surrounded by fruit orchards and sheep farms.

I don’t know if it was a day of bumpy traveling, or our vacation in India had finally caught up to me- but I will spare the gory details. One night in Mussorrie was about to become a two day rest to pass intestinal sickness. After finding a fairly cheap hotel, we turned in for the night and barely emerged two days later. It was my first bout of a stomach bug, and luckily we had some good meds with us. I immediately noticed the signs and began taking heavy prescriptions we had brought. Within 24 hours it cleared up enough to get out and see Mussoorie for at least a few hours. If you’ve ever seen Empire Strikes Back, you will understand the reference- I was reminded of Bespin’s Cloud City. The city twisted and turned along several ridges. Every corner revealed a new over look with clouds blowing through. It was beautiful. On a clear day to the north 6000 and 7000 meter peaks loom in the distance. To the south, jungles of India lay before you in every direction to Dehra Dun and beyond. We experienced very thick cloudiness and monsoon rains each morning and afternoon.

I know I will return someday to India, and back to the Himalaya, but I will only quickly pass through Mussoorie. If this were the only hill station I visited it would be perfect, but after seeing Shimla and others, I found them much more attractive and exotic. Mussoorie reminded me of the Jersey Shore. Outlet stores and video arcades in a semi-attractive location just far enough from major metropolitan areas to make it an affordable vacation.

After two nights I felt well enough to travel. We once again packed up before breakfast and walked to the bus stand. Little did I know we were about to embark upon our hardest couple days of travel. In hind sight I would have drastically lengthened this portion of the trip to provide more days resting and enjoying these places. Since our final objective for this phase was Leh, many many more miles north along the Pakistan and Tibet borders, we had to travel fast, skipping over places we could have enjoyed.

This is just one of the many busses we rode on. Still uncrowded, its about 6am and only a few men are headed to work in the provincial capital of Uttarakand, named Dehra Dun.

This is one of my top 10 favorite photos from the trip, An Early Morning Tea Shack.

I will once again paraphrase to stay in sequence, and get to later details. We took the bus from Mussoorie to Dehra Dun. In Dehra Dun we took a rickshaw from the local provincal bus station to a larger national bus stand. I hoped to catch a direct bus to Shimla, unfortunetly, that one passed by full shortly after arriving at the bus station. So we had to take a bus to Chandigarh, which forced us to backtrack back into the province of Harayana and over to Punjab.

In the gorgeous city of Chandigarh we caught another bus to Shimla. We were both really impressed by the design and beauty of Chandigarh. I didn’t really expect to visit the state of Punjab, so I skipped over the overview in my guide book. Punjab is primarily occupied by the Sikh faith. And Chandigarh, its capital, was built from scratch after partition. The city was designed in an almost perfect square grid pattern. I was reminded in some ways to our own capital of Washington D.C. Large grass malls and concrete plazas gave the city an unobstructed open feeling. The Sikhs are typically middle to upper-middle caste and known as being good businessmen. There were several American franchise hotels along with a variety of American fast food restaurants. We had to once again change bus stations after arriving and caught a ride in the latest air conditioned propane buses. The city was generally clean and easy to get around. Gretchen joked about how we really had to trust people getting on and off in places, but I generally felt it was easy to read signs here and find my way around. The city was laid out in over 40 sectors, each sector served a purpose and was broken into smaller sectors. Looking out the bus windows it was easy to figure out which sector would come next, thus getting off the bus at the right place.

After changing busses in Chandigarh we opted for the premiere non-stop bus to Shimla. For twice the price we paid about five dollars each. But we got reclining cushy seats in a quiet air conditioned bus. It was lush after riding the basic busses back and forth across northern India.

Shima was majestic. The site of the British Empire summer capital, it was easy to see the change in architecture. Shimla is home to Rupyard Kiplings famous story Kim. The provincial government still calls this city home, and a large portion of the city is military barracks and government buildings.

Like most hill stations, Shimla is built into the hill side, resting atop a series of ridges. The main thoroughfare is an area called The Ridge. This strip of shops and restaurants feels like the Rodeo Drive of India. People were happy to find out Gretchen and I weren’t British, or European for that matter. It still seems to be a popular site for European travelers. I really liked Shimla and could have spent at least a week here resting, exploring, and enjoying the majestic city. We had a nice hotel situated on a mountain above The Ridge. In the mornings it was a quick 5 minute walk downhill to find a coffee shop for breakfast, and a rigorous 15 minute walk back up the same hill at night.

Shimla is in the Himachal Pradesh province. It was clean, affordable, and beautiful. Any future trips I take to this part of India will certainly include layovers in Shimla. We actually saw several fancy signs posted all over town warning of citations for littering or spitting on the ground- a drastic contrast from most of central, western, and southern India were it is common practice to throw any and all garbage on the ground.

Gangotri

2011-07-15T23:11:00.000-08:00

One of our main goals for traveling to India this past summer was to spend time in the Himalaya. For as long as I can remember I’ve felt called to the mountains. There is something about having elevation above me, surrounding me- that brings comfort, joy, and peace. To know I can head up a nearby mountain and have a vantage of the country side is both rewarding and nurturing. Mountains are like my safety blanket. Fredericksburg, Virginia is relatively flat, with only some rolling hills nearby. Living in West Virginia for four years started this obsession with living in mountainous areas. I feel a sense of anxiety when I can’t look up and see terrain above or around me. As a geographer I enjoy the look of mountains, the feel of mountains, and the culture the mountains draw. Some mountains are as looming as they are majestic, others are as jaggedly craggy as they are awe inspiring.

I really knew little of what I would find in the mountains of India. I’ve read several mountaineering books about the major peaks of the Karakoram and Hindu Kush of the Himalaya in Nepal and Pakistan- but not the lesser mountains, the foothills, or the communities of mountain people in India. As sharply as the elevation climbs nearly strait up, so quickly do the villages cling to its slopes.

We left Rishikesh in the early afternoon. After missing all the buses north, we took a taxi to the shared jeep terminal. Sharing jeeps was an unusual adventure. Essentially you find a parking lot full of jeeps, people show up, and once the driver feels he can make a profit with the right load of people, everyone piles in, and you drive on. The vehicles are called jeeps, but they are more like an oversized Isuzu Trooper or Mitsubishi Montero. Most of them are manufactured by Tata, some are Toyota. The front drivers bench seat comfortably holds 3, we saw as many as 5. The middle bench seat holds 3, again, we saw as many as 5. The rear of the jeep has two sets of bench seats facing inward. This area should hold 4, we saw 6. That adds up to a max capacity of 16, but we counted at least 17 or 18 in some. It never ceased to amaze us how many people will cram more into a vehicle. In the flatlands you could have over 25 people hanging off the back or sitting on the roof of the jeep racing down the highway. Even a speed bump could be catastrophic with that load.

As for traveling in this country- it was insane. I feel like I’ve driven some of the most twisted, windy, back woods roads in West Virginia and western North Carolina- they don’t come close to the Himalaya. It is hard to fathom, much less describe how some of these roads were cut into the steep slopes. Recently the History Channel filmed a season of Ice Road Truckers in India. I’m not much for cable television, especially “reality television”, but I watched just a couple of these episodes to reminisce. They realistically portray how dangerous the roads are, and how wreck less the local people drive on them.

In order to reach Gangotri we had to spend an evening in Uttarkashi. Considered a hub of the northern parts of Uttarakhand province, Uttarkashi largely succeeds by supporting the tourism and rice industries. There are many basmati rice farmers in this part of the country. All along the highway farms are cut into the hillside. Rice is cultivated by cutting terraces, or large flat tiers into the hillsides, then allowing them to flood. Most of the terraces are in the less sloped terrain near the bottom of the valleys alongside the river. Nearly all the tiny villages in this part of the Himalaya are holy sites. Each summer, after the snow melts and the roads open thousands of pilgrims come to pay homage to the source of the Ganges River. Gangotri is the most important of the religious sites.

This tiny village is completely desolate in the winter months. From late spring through early fall tens of thousands of pilgrims, maybe even hundreds of thousands pass through this site on the way to Gomokh, source of Mother Ganga. With several options for treks and 6000 meter mountaineering peaks nearby, a lot of travelers also lay over in Gangotri. We spent five days here. It was a very serene and relaxing spot. The weather was much cooler, very similar to Alaska mountain weather. Evening temperatures could easily drop into the 50’s. The elevation was over 3000 meters, almost 10,000 feet. The mountains were generally obscured by dense cloud cover. Occasionally the clouds would lift revealing steep sheer rock walls leading to razor edge ridges above.

Hindu’s believe at least once in a lifetime they must travel to the source of the Ganges River. Once at the glacier they fill up containers with the sacred water, then return home. Thus like any good tourist town, Gangotri had lots of souvenir shops in the bazaar.

They even had specific pilgrimage clothing. Bright orange obviously the popular color.

Gangotri at sunset.

Gomukh: India

2011-07-15T07:11:00.000-08:00

I have no idea where to begin my story of India. My thoughts are as abstract as the course we took and the way we traveled. Not that it was anything out of the ordinary. If there is such thing as ordinary travels in India. I guess you could say there was no symmetry to our travels. It was a smattering of means and modes across the Northern chunk of India. We hired expensive drivers and we hitched on cheap buses. We stayed in reasonable 5 star hotels and then "splurged" for a bigger room in a $5 or 200 INR hostel. It was a learning experience, each and every day. We learned as much about each other as we did about this incredible ancient civilization thriving in the modern emerging world. I hope in the end it changed us. Not in the usual neo-new age metaphysical ashram kind of way, but for what we expect from the world. What is out there beyond our spiritual borders. And how deep the abyss of culture really goes.

I guess every spiritual journey (and I use that term mockingly) should begin from the source. Gomukh, or Mother Gomukh as we also heard it called, is the sources of the famous Ganges River, or River Ganga. The Ganges is the holiest of holies for Hindu's, and the glacier from which the Ganges comes, Gangotri Glacier is equally as holy. Called Gomukh, or mothers milk, named after a cave just below the Gangotri Glacier from which the Ganges spews. How we got here is a whole other story I will only paraphrase in this posting. Essentially after two warm days in Rishikesh we hopped two jeeps North, avoided and crossed several landslides, spent the night in Uttar Kashi, then hopped one more jeep arriving in the holy city of Gangotri. This tiny seasonal village is home to Sadhus and tourists, along with all the basic amenities you need before embarking upon a holy pilgrimage.

From Gangotri pilgrims adorned in orange, mostly males, walked 18km into the Himalayas. Stopping briefly at the small camp Bhojbasa before reaching Gomukh. All Hindu's take a ritual bath in the icy glacier river, fill a small container with holy water, then begin a long walk home. Yes, I said home. From here pilgrims make two choices. One, walk back to Rishikesh, about 400km away. Stick around for a couple Pujas (holy religious services at rivers edge) then head home. Or, two, walk all the way home, usually someplace in Northern India, vicinity Delhi or the state of Uttar Pradesh, usually hundreds more kilometers away. I was astounded by the gear these pilgrims are outfitted with. Sporting the latest Adidas fashion in orange with nothing more than flip flops on their feet. They walk down the steep, muddy, treacherous roads of the Himalaya. That's dedication.

After four days our time in Gangotri came to and end. We again hop scotched back down through the Himalayas via jeep and bus, finally ending up at the gorgeous hill station of Mussoorie. But that's another story.

Rishikesh

2011-07-13T23:02:00.000-08:00

I sat cross legged, entranced by the repetitive rhythms of the tabla drum. Behind me the Ganges River rushed by. Gretchen sat beside me, staring into the quickly dimming night sky. We were at a nightly puja, in one of the many ashrams of Rishikesh. If this city sounds familiar it means you’re a Beatles fan, particularly the era from Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band (one of my own personal favorites after the mighty White Album).

Anyway, I should probably backtrack a bit, keeping these travelogues in sequence. The last 24 hours had become quite a blur. I will try and summarize quickly, but without missing the wonderful details. We left Rajasthan and crossed through the incredibly populated state of Harayana and back into Delhi. Our driver insisted on stopping for several road sodas, both before and after crossing the border into Harayana. There was also a brief humbling layover at KP's (our driver) house. We felt honored to meet his family. His family of four occupies one bedroom, roughly 8x12ft in size, with one bed. The kitchen is smaller then most Americans spare bedroom closet. Nearly all of his life earnings go into paying for his two sons schooling. In India schools aren’t really public, not in the free education we Americans are used to. Even with some tuition subsidies, parents must still pay a large portion of entrance fees, grade level fees, purchase uniforms, and rent textbooks. It all adds up, and leads to many children not getting beyond school after age 12 or 13. At the rate which India is emerging and prospering in the world, they drastically need to improve education standards. That was a bit of a tangent. You can see education is becoming near and dear to my heart.

We spent nearly two hours sitting in KP’s apartment. His niece stopped to visit along with a couple other extended family members living nearby. I got the impression he doesn’t always bring “work" home, so we were humbled by this experience. It was a great way to share our own life in Alaska with them. Gretchen's iPod had just enough battery life remaining to show a few pictures of our own home. After a couple more beers, I got the impression we had over stayed our welcome, and insisted it was time to head to the train station. I could tell from Mrs. KP, it was time for us to go. Without sounding chauvinist, a lot of wives have similar body language in certain situations. She began getting a little irritable with Mr. KP, and despite not understanding a word of Hindi, I could tell by the tone of her voice, and fast rate she was talking- we needed to leave. More than anything, after being gone two weeks, I’m sure she just wanted some alone time.

From the suburbs of Delhi, we were delivered in the heart of the city at the train station. After being led around India since our arrival for two weeks, we were on our own. I was given strict orders not to talk to sneaky strangers at the train station. I was also told catching trains from Delhi was easy. One of these facts was true, the other a complete farce. Over the course of three hours Gretchen and I beat ourselves up trying to figure out how the hell to get out of Delhi. We had tickets. Unfortunately we arrived after the special tourist depot office in the visitors center had closed. I will spare the gory details for the sake of my own prudence. But lets just say it included a lot of frustration, a couple unnecessary taxi rides back and forth between various train stations, a quick tour of the new subway system, and finally a leap of faith getting on what we believed to be “our train”.

Upon finding our correct train car, and bunks, we nestled in for the 8 hour ride into the Himalayan foothills. Like I mentioned before, our first two weeks were totally planned for us. We didn’t have to worry about what hotels to stay in, or how we were getting from place to place. KP knew all the best restaurants, and what times were best to visit palaces and museums. So when we arrived in Haridwar at 4am we again had to figure things out. Using my Rough Guide and map reading skills, we stumbled out of the train station and into the bus station. Now, if catching a train was confusing, finding a bus was ten times harder. After pacing back and forth around the Haridwar bus station for nearly three hours, we found our ride. Rishikesh is only a 30 minute drive north from Haridwar. Due to the rugged terrain travel at this point is only done by Car, Bus, or Jeep. Some rickshaws can putter through the steep streets slowly.

Rishikesh is famous for local Hindu pilgrimages, many ashrams, of course the Beatles, and now Yoga. It is also the launching point for a lot of trekking and rafting in the Himalaya.

Rishikesh is separated by the roaring Ganges River. After snaking through the foothills of the Himalaya, here it finally widens significantly before branching out across the Indian sub-continent to the sea. We found a nice backpackers hotel across the river, foot traffic only.

Afternoon rains were common in this region. The quick showers usually brought a nice drop in hot humid temperatures.

We spent a little less than two days in Rishikesh. There weren’t real tourist sights to see. Most of the temples were packed with people worshipping, not sight seeing. But there was plenty of paths to walk and alleys to explore. We went to the evening pujas along the river, and met interesting people in the European coffee cafes. Hearing the mountains calling, it was time to refit, and begin the second phase of our trip- the Himalaya.

Rajasthan Part 9: Bikaner & Mandawa

2011-07-11T22:13:00.000-08:00

After leaving the desert city of Jaislmer we headed back across the Thar Desert and into the north eastern corner of Rajasthan. After crossing the desolate desert we once again we were welcomed by a more humid sub-tropical environment. Grass grew in the highway median, more cows grazed along the shrubbery on the shoulders, and trees began popping up in the distance. Just outside our destination of Mandawa, we encountered signs of the Summer monsoons. Massive puddles covered the entire roadway. We had to slow our travel speed in order to cross these miniature lakes.

Mandawa, a small town is famous for one thing- Haveli’s. Haveli’s are essentially extremely decorated houses, sometimes mansions, with a ornamental decoration specific to that area. In Jaislmer the havelis were intricate carvings in the sand stone. In Mandawa, they were colorful paintings covering walls, pillars, and beams. Both inside and outside the structures.

These buildings are often called “Heritage Houses”. Referring to the Raj heritage of ornamentally decorating higher caste houses. Some of the heritage houses, those over 200 years old have been taken over by the Indian government and fully funded for restoration. Others have been passed down through generations of wealthy families that pay for upkeep and maintenance. While sadly many have become derelict, their paintings all but eroded or rubbed away.

The decorative murals cover a range of themes. Some represent key events in India’s history. Most have multiple religious symbols or figures. One more recent Haveli had murals representing important technological wonders, such as the airplane and train.

I really liked Mandawa. Though it was pretty far off the beaten path, I think we unofficially became lost several times to find it. I don’t speak hindi, but I’m pretty sure our driver had to ask for directions at least 7 times. Mandawa was a fairly small town, we walked almost completely around it in less than an hour.

After two weeks in India I decided I need some sandals. While packing for the trip Gretchen tricked me into not bringing any open toed shoes. After the first day I disgustingly noticed she herself was wearing Chaco sandals, while I was sweating in my trail shoes. Hoping for the best I shopped around and finally found this leather sandal shop in Mandawa. As long as you didn’t mind footwear made from sheep leather, cow leather, pig leather, goat leather, dog leather, rat leather, or any other kind of leather they had great selection!

I tried my best to figure out the sport of Cricket. We never went to an official match, but observed several local pick-up games. After reading my Rough Guide discussion I Cricket I still didn’t comprehend the sport. So we spent about an hour at a Mandawa park watching these school boys play. I should have filmed the entire experience. Several friendly English speaking boys came over and pieced together various aspects of the game.

Visiting Bikaner was back to the big city. This marked almost two weeks wandering around Rajasthan with a driver. At this point we were a little tired of massive Raj palaces, big cities, and crazy driving.

The highlight of Bikaner was torrential monsoon rains. This was our first experience actually being in these downpours. The hotel power flickered as the storm passed through the city. Low spots in the floor became puddles, then lakes. Our hotel open air lobby had various water falls coming off the roof.

Within an hour the monsoon rain passed. We went for a short walk and things quickly seemed back to normal. Some puddles remained, but most of water drained into ditches and irrigation channels. The street lights left a nice reflective glow on the wet shiny surfaces.

We have no regrets spending two weeks in Rajasthan. Though it wasn’t part of our original itinerary, I’m glad we added the excursion. There are several places I would visit again as previously mentioned in this blog. There are also a couple places I’m happy not going back to, eluding that I will go back to India again at all. Surrounding the countryside near Mandawa are several other neat towns and villages. I really enjoyed spending time in these off the beaten path places. I would certainly have liked to spend more time getting to know people here and exploring. Most of them would be harder to access by train or bus. Having a driver helps, if they know their way around, as many of the city drivers I feel do not. I think the most exciting way to visit this area would be by motorcycle or bicycle. This part of Rajasthan is only 3-5 hours from Delhi. It seemed very safe, though most people don’t speak English outside the big cities, I’m sure you could still make your way around. The occasional detour or dead end would only lead to the fun of exploration and discovery.

Rajasthan Part 8: Jaislmer

2011-07-09T22:11:00.000-08:00

Leaving Jodhpur, we raced further into the Thar Desert. On the Western most corner of Rajasthan lies an oasis, Jaislmer. Approaching city limits the first thing you see is miles and miles of military compound. We were roughly 50 kilometers from the Pakistan border. Rumor has it this area was littered with dozens of tank Battalions and Air Force fighter wings. Just before reaching the city walls our driver took a hard left and headed South. Before entering the city, his plan was for us to spend a night in the real desert. Our destination, the tiny village of Khuri. I guess expressing our interest once in villages, turned into multiple village excursions. This time it was for a camel safari.

Originally we planned to ride camels out into the desert, bringing a camel entourage in order to spend the night sleeping in the dunes. As we arrived it was obvious sand storms were kicking up in the distance. So we opted for a short sunset ride about thirty minutes out of town.

Gretchen and I agreed, despite the uniqueness of the experience, camels were one of the most painful methods of travel in our entire life. I would have rather walked across the broiling, baking, sandy desert then ride that stupid camel. I actually had scars on my butt for weeks, months afterward. The saddle is leather as hard as a rock. The driver actually shares the saddle sitting behind you. All you have to do is hold on, which is much harder then it sounds. Through a series of clicks, burps, and commands the driver brings the camel up from a gallop to an all out sprint through shifting sand.

Despite this serene photograph, Grechen actually got spit on by her camel. Much like the Disney Aladdin cartoons, they do spit, and they are mean. My camel seemed like he should have stayed in bed, acting severly sick. At one point he vomited, then tried to bite me. Watching them sit down and stand up is actually kind of fun. First the front of the animal drops suddenly forward as you feel liking being thrown over the handlebars. Then the rear end flops down. After which my camel tried to roll over squishing me underneath. I had to launch myself off in the opposite direction. Then was to afraid I would be attacked to go back and grab my water bottle. Luckily an hour later he seemed more relaxed and allowed me to easily mount up for our ride back home.

Yet it was still an amazing experience. We rode out into the dunes. Sat and watched the sunset for about an hour, then had an amazing dinner back at camp. Along the way we stopped near two watering holes. The first was a pit stop for animals. My camel shared the trough with cows, dogs, and chickens. There were even peacocks circling the area. Then we passed the village watering hole. It reminded me of images I’ve seen in National Geographic. Women gathered, filled watering pots, then carried them home stacked upon their head. Before arriving back at camp the storm really picked up. Pelting us with sand. It felt like a thousand needles hitting your face. The drivers raced the camels into the fenced stables as we quickly dismounted. The customary 100 rupee tip was handed over to the driver before heading in for a King Fisher.

We stayed at the Krisna Desert Resort. The manager gave us a choice of the villas above or the thatched cottages below.

Jaislmer, like several other Raj fortresses turned into cities, was built upon the nearest rocky outcropping. As invaders tended to come in all directions five hundred years ago, palaces served a multitude of purposes and defenses. Jaislmer was originally an outpost for traders traveling East and West across the sub-continent and eventually up into the Middle East then Europe.

Just outside the palace entrance, but within the city walls- handprints, evidence of wives committing sati after the death of their beloved king. This now banished practice was depicted on the walls of nearly every palace we visited by the red handprints.

Traditionally only higher class were allowed to live in the fortress walls. Most of the nicest havelis (houses) belonged to the Brahman Caste. These were decorated with intricate stone carvings and lattice work.

Today the castle is still made of tightly woven streets around traditional looking housing. Some curios and trinket shops are open on the ground floors, but it still feels like a living city, as it may have hundreds of years ago. Outside the city walls it is a bustling 21st century reminder of emerging India. Tourist shops, large restaurants, night clubs, and amid modern apartments line overcrowded streets. Despite the hot arid desert climate, cows still wander the city streets.

More Havelis.

Evening lights brought cooler temperatures. We found some high ground on the castle ramparts to enjoy the a chilly breeze while taking in the sights and sounds of Jaislmer.

Rajasthan Part 7: Jodhpur

2011-07-07T21:22:00.000-08:00

As we left the densely vegetated hills around Ranakpur, the landscape quickly changed. The terrain began flattening out, with only a few glimpses of odd knolls across the desert. The flora became more of a barren scrub, and patchy at that. The road meandering through the mountains had once again leveled off, allowing for high speed escapades on the open freeway. Our Tata raced across the Eastern fringe of the Thar Desert- we were headed for Jodhpur.

Jodhpur is dubbed the “Blue City”. I will tell you why later. The first place we stopped was the infamous Sardar Market. A chaotic mess of people squeezed into a very orderly grid like cluster of shops within the main bazaar. In the center is a very distinct British era clock tower, another sign of India’s diverse history. As instructed by our guide and driver, we were to shop for one thing here- spice. So we walked from one outlet to the next exploring the spice. We bought several blends which each maker insisted was the best in Jodhpur. More then anything I was people watching. After the initial shock wore off arriving in Delhi, I rather enjoyed being jumbled in such a mess of life, color, sights and sounds. People coming in every direction. It was sensation overload to the maximum. There was no place to stop and watch, you had to keep moving. The slightest hesitation would draw the attention from a variety of unwanted characters. I think this was the hardest for Gretchen. Reflecting upon past training, I kept my "head on a swivel”. Constantly looking, thinking, moving onward, and occasionally pausing for a quick snapshot. She really wanted to stop. Look. Touch. And see items laid out for sale. Doing so usually resulted in a barrage of salesmenship and the usual onslaught of questioning.

A technique I developed was to have a counter question for their question. Sometimes this lead to interesting discussion, and sometimes it led to communication barriers. You could always tell when locals had a very scripted line of questioning, (the only English they knew) and diverting from such questioning resulted in shut down. Other times I would respond to a question with a nod, pretending I didn’t speak English.

The picture above has a funny story. I was briefly disoriented by the color of the blue spice, and form of the brown cube shaped “brownie”. So I paused, looked for a second, and was instantly quizzed as to what I thought it was. Before I could respond Gretchen answered for me- laundry soap. I didn’t find it odd that it was soap; but found it odder it was sitting upon the same table as spices and food.

Today he decided to wear his marching band outfit. And he wanted his picture taken. Later we saw the rest of the band- but I don’t ever remember seeing instruments.

Like everywhere else in India the narrow side streets were a racetrack of traffic. Luckily within most of the markets in Jodhpur cars were not allow. Motor scooters were the only motorized vehicles allowed.

Now, the blue buildings. Originally painting your house blue served two purposes. The first being it identified you as part of the Brahman high caste. But it also served as a preservative and natural bug repellant. Today its more for style then social recognition.

The mighty fortress ramparts of Jodhpur rise sharply above the city. The Meherangarh Fort is perched on sandstone cliffs right above the markets. From the towers and balconies of the fortress the Maharaja could look upon his city and kingdom.

One of the innermost chambers of the palace.

More blue buildings in the blue city.

The palace was one of the nicer tours we took. Price of admission actually came with a free walking audio tour. The visit concluded in this courtyard, after returning your headset, we sat and listend to the Raj musician play.

Just on the outskirts of town we visited the Jaswant Thanda, tomb of one of the most successful rulers of Jodhpur from 1878-1895. He was known for bringing law to a somewhat lawless bandit ridden country side, while also accomplishing projects like crop irrigation. The tomb, unlike some, was exquisitely cared for. It was a very photogenic place. These are just sampling of a few images I captured here.

Jodhpur was a really nice stop. We spent three days and two nights here. During which time we also visited the Umaid Bhawan Palace, one of those most recent palaces to be built in India. It was completed in 1944 as a huge endeavor for a suffering economy with a high unemployment rate. Taking 16 years and costing 9.5 million rupees it was a modern palace with traditional architecture. Unfortunately cameras were not allowed within the complex, and most of it was closed to the public due to housing for the current Maharaja. Yes, the Maharaja family dynasty is still going on in most Rajahastani cities.

We stayed at a very contemporary hotel on the outskirts of town. At which this was the only place I was ever refused something. Despite immaculate hospitality almost every where we went- at this hotel restaurant I was rejected from ordering spicy food. As I pointed to the menu requesting a local Rajasthani dish, the waiter casually responded “no”. I said, "how about this one", pointing to another local dish. The waiter once again said “no”, but not no in the way its not available. I could tell by the tone of his voice he meant no, not for you. So I spoke up and asked, after which he proceeded to tell me I was a weak natured intolerant American whose stomach and digestive system could not handle a traditional Rajasthani dish. If I weren’t so flabbergasted I probably would have been insulted. Instead I snickered and picked something else.

Rajasthan Part 6: Ranakpur

2011-07-05T18:40:00.001-08:00

At some point in the first few days after leaving Agra, our driver began talking about traveling into the countryside. KP spoke English well enough to carry on modest conversations driving between cities. I know he understood we were teachers. I don’t think he understood where we taught. I know he didn’t truly comprehend what Alaska was like. We tried to put things in perspective. Describing temperatures in Celsius. Explaining our lack of running water in the village, intermittent electricity, and absence from the road system. Not being able to drive to our home really blew his mind.

It was around this discussion he asked to take us to Ranakpur. With little persuading we said that sounded great, add it to our agenda. So I began flipping through my guide book, trying to see what I could find out about this next destination. It was certainly off the beaten path- there was the second most sacred Jain temple there, only a few accommodations were available, and it took up less than 1/2 a page in my rough guide.

Upon reaching the periphery of the “country side”, the road immediately began twisting and turning. It felt as if we had driven back in time at least 50 years, maybe more. Power poles disappeared. Each home seemed to be sitting upon plantation style farmland. The rows of crops were polka dotted with brightly colored sari’s. Even the construction of homes changed to mud style walls with thatched roofs.

With the change of atmosphere came a change of attitude. Our driver suddenly made an unexpected stop at a roadside stand. Gretchen and I both curiously watched him get out, stretch, and walk over to a vender. I noticed several banners for King Fisher, and began to grin. It was time for “road sodas”. I knew KP was a man after my own heart; he would fit in well with my Alaskan ski bum backcountry friends. While Gretchen waited in the Tata, KP and I consumed one King Fisher each at the stand. I just stood there sipping as he carried on some lengthy conversation with the salesman. Occasionally smiling, nodding, looking around- and drinking my beer. Just as I emptied my 22oz King Fisher, KP pulled out his wallet and bought three more. He could see my eyes widen, with a smirk on my face. “Your still thirsty? For the road” he said, handing me two. We borrowed my new friends bottle opener and headed for the vehicle. The good news is one King Fisher is about the same as one Coors Light, or the equivalent of a slightly fermented cup of mostly water. The bad news, KP had bought the strong edition. About twice the alcohol by volume, with ten times the flavor, my personal favorite. Lacking the punch I’m used to from my favorite IPA, it was still delicious at ten o’clock in the morning.

The next 60 minutes included but was not limited to- a blaring stereo on repeat, roadside dancing, numerous accounts of littering, two pit stops, weaving through narrow canyons, and an explanation of international friendship.

The countryside around Ranakpur really was different from elsewhere we had been. Like the photograph above, people were truly living a basic agrarian lifestyle. Children were walking around cloth less, or with merely a diaper wrapped around their waist. None of the homes seemed to have electricity or running water. Everyone was outside performing chores essential for survival.

Our first request was for a nature hike. The cottage keeper insisted we take a guide. So we walked across the street and into the wilds. It was obvious the monsoons had not hit this part of Rajasthan yet. Most of the lakes were ponds. All of the creeks and streams were empty. We crossed a concrete dam 35 feet above a dry bed below. Our guide explained that once monsoons arrived, water wouldn’t be quite as scarce. Its amazing to learn how thrivent and dependent this land is off these seasonal rains. For thousands and thousands of years they have learned how to save and irrigate for survival. It made me briefly reminisce upon people living along the mighty Euphrates in Iraq. A land much more desolate than almost anywhere else on Earth, but sustainable with this life blood of water. Whether by yearly storm or by snowmelt thousands of miles away- water is the necessity for life. It comes in many shapes and sizes. It comes in many forms both from the sky and by land- but is still essential for growth. The one common thread across the planet is civilization must have water to survive.

The weather was fairly arid. It was hot, but we were obviously just on the edge of the desert.

Flocks of sheep herded through the streets. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, domesticated animals did as they pleased. And undomesticated animals still did as they pleased.

The highlight of the excursion was visiting the Jain temple. Nestled deep in the Aravalli are several temples. The landscape to me was similar to parts of West Virginia. Deep, steep, densly vegitated terrain. Lush hillsides spanning out in all directions. The temple complex was kept very nicely. These monkeys were playing in large banyan style trees.

The Jain faith makes up less than 1% of India and has been around for over 2500 years. It borrows some beliefs and similar rituals to Hinduism, but is focused around absolute non-violence. The practice of ahimsa pertaining to all living souls. They are commonly seen wearing cloth masks as not to inhale any living creature intentionally, or unintentionally. They refuse to travel by motorized vehicle, for fear it might harm a living creature.

The temples in Ranakpur were some of the most cared for we saw in India. Exquisitely carved marble covered in adornments. The inner chambers of the temple extremely clean. Several Jain monks dressed in orange moved throughout the open space. Visiting with people. Sharing prayers or peace offerings.

Ornate pillars and spires constructed in a very symmetrical fashion. All depicted various gods and goddesses.

As most temples, all shoes must be removed. Specific to Jain temples, we were searched before entering as not to bring any animal made products inside. All leather belts must be removed. Men and women have to wear garments fully covering legs and upper body. We actually saw a couple get turned away because the man was wearing shorts and the woman a tank-top.

The above picture is the main large temple. Around the main temple were several smaller temples, each with similar carvings and style.

Despite being hard to get to, I highly recommend visiting Ranakpur. It was a nice break from hustling cities. I believe there is a bus from Udaipur that will drop you at the main temple bus stop. After two days and one night in Ranakpur we were ready to move on. I could see spending several days to relax, but after that India continued to call me. Our hotel fit in with the rustic motif of the area. We spent the night counting lizards crawling on the walls and seating in our air cooled room.

Rajasthan Part 5: Udaipur Dance

2011-07-04T18:05:00.001-08:00

Our first evening in Udaipur, we discovered a traditional Raj dancing show. The show was held within the Bagore-Ki-Haveli Museum, right across the alley from our hotel. Gretchen had seen the show briefly advertised as something with puppets. It was much more.

At over an hour long, the show featured various acts. Dancing with fire pots. Dancing with water pots. Dancing with cymbals. Wonderful music. And lots of bright vibrant colors in every costume.

I had as much fun photographing each act in the dimly lit haveli, as Gretchen had watching.

Three musicians were playing two different drums, and an accordion like instrument.

This women had several miniature cymbals attached to various portions of her body. Using finger cymbals tied to a string she swung and ricocheted them in rhythmic fashion.

One of the drummers was also a puppeteer. In traditional Raj style, the puppeteer is plainly visible to the audience while distracting them with mesmerizing puppet routines. The puppets were as elegantly dressed as the women.

For the grand finale, how many water pots can she stack on her head?

Just when you thought she was topped out, more pots were added. I can’t imagine the weight of these pots, even empty. With the pots she swiftly danced around the room.

This was probably one of the most entertaining shows we saw in India.

Rajasthan Part 4: Udaipur

2011-07-03T17:08:00.000-08:00

Udaipur, city on the lake, was one of our favorites in Rajasthan. I would go back to Udaipur. We both loved it.

If Udaipur looks familiar, that means you are a James Bond fanatic like me, and remember it from the early 1980’s film “Octopussy”.

Our hotel or haveli, was right alongside the lake in the heart of downtown.

All around the lake the city is densely populated. Most places are to narrow for vehicles, making it foot and motor-scooter traffic only.

There are two floating palaces built on the lake. They aren’t actually floating, but built from solid granite taken from the mountains in North Western Rajasthan.

We lucked out and arrived on a festival day. I have no idea what the festival was celebrating. Festivals occur frequently and often in every city in India. The country has national festival days, but each city, and even each temple within a city has specific festivals.

This festival consisted of a parade between several of the larger temples. There were camels and horses. Floats and bands. Costumes and entertainers. It was extremely colorful and action packed.

One of my favorite acts was this drum corps. I was able to snap a few shots, but unfortunately my video camera battery died before they arrived.

Here is a video of the parade.

Udaipur was a very pleasant city to explore and spend time in. The people were very friendly. The city was much cleaner then others. At night, the palaces are lit decorating the dark. People were always out at the ghats- swimming, bathing, playing, and even cleaning clothes.

We spent July 4th in Udaipur. There were no fireworks for American Independence, but we had a delicious meal at one of the fancier restaurants on the water. After several courses of food and a couple rounds of drinks the whole thing cost less than $20.

During the day, the humidity crept in laying a haze all around the city. We spent three full days and two nights in Udaipur. I could have spent more time, and in future visits hope to.

The palace was intricately decorated.

We took a boat ride around Lake Pichola.

The city palace was turned into a resort hotel, associated with the floating palaces for a premium Raj experience. The price was several thousand per night. Way over my budget.

I believe they beat the clothes with paddles in order to exorcise the evil spirits.

In the distance, monsoon palaces were built upon the hill tops. During the hottest seasons the Maharaja would travel there and run his kingdom in comfort.

While walking through the palace complex to the boat docks we came upon these large trees. Within the trees were thousands of bats hanging upside down. It was day time and they were just hanging there. I first noticed them by the squealing sound they were making. I looked up and squinted to identify what I was seeing. I’ve seen bats before, but these were 2-3 times bigger. Not until later that evening did I realize how big the population here was. We watched for at least 15 minutes as swarms of them flew over head after dusk, as seen in the video.

The elegant palace our last night, seen from Lake Pichola.

Rajasthan Part 3: Pushkar

2011-07-02T16:39:00.001-08:00

Next stop, Pushkar. This is considered one of the holiest Hindu cities. Not on the same scale as Varanasi, but still sacred. The lake was created by Lord Brahma, the creator, when he dropped a lotus flower down to Earth. The petals broke apart, where they landed water magically filled the craters within the desert. Now the lake is surrounded by 52 ghats, or steps into the water, each named for a Maharaja. Bathing in the holy waters of this lake are supposed to wash impurities away and cleanse the soul.

Our hotel was about a 10 minute walk from the lake. Our driver dropped us downtown, then gave us directions back to our hotel. We spent the afternoon wandering the alleyways and reflecting upon the lake.

After leaving the main streets we were immediately bombarded by young men wanting to provide us with guide services. They made every attempt to sell themselves as trustworthy folk. They claimed we needed their help in order to maximize our experiences in this holy city. Taking KP’s advice, we deflected the help of several guides and changed our course multiple times in order to shake off these pestering followers. Sometimes I would pretend I didn’t speak English, giving them a confused look. Other times I ignored them all together as if they didn’t exist.

Our two months in India would become a series of new experiences. Pushkar was no less a powerful new experience. All around us devoted Hindu’s were participating in religious rituals worshipping Lord Brahma. Wary travelers easily got roped into such rituals, called pujas, soon discovering the real reason for the ceremony.

As we got closer to the waters edge music began to echo from various temples. Priests had awnings set up around several of the ghats providing shade to visitors. We respectfully removed our shoes, but rather then place them in a rack and pay money, I snuck them into our daypack. Hoping I could avoid the crowd and just watch several iterations, we were quickly bombarded with a priest and temple boys inviting us to join them. Reluctantly I gave in and followed with Gretchen stoically behind me. We sat upon the stone steps where he began the puja. I was handed a silver plate containing several colorful flower petals and powders. The priest began chanting several incantations in repetition. It seemed to be going well until he grabbed a nearby coconut, then asked me how much money I was planning to give. Ugh. I was prepared to be asked for a donation, but I was not prepared for the way he would scoff at my gift. The Rough Guide specified 52 rupees was enough to give per person. When I told him I would give 104 rupees he became very unhappy with me. He told me that was not enough, then rattled off various members of an extended family, mentioning my donation would bring them all good fortunes and health. I suddenly had a glimpse what Martin Luther must have felt like.

After almost a minute of debate about how much my donation would be, I bid no more than 200 rupees and placed them upon the coconut shell. The priest only half heartedly completed the puja and handed me the plate. Mixing water with the dry powders to create a paste which he used to place a third eye upon my forehead. Then, tied a token around both our wrists. The token or "pushkar passport" is a piece of red and yellow twine torn from a temple cloth and worn around the wrist. This identifies you have participated in a puja, and priests will generally leave you alone for the remainder of your visit. We then got up, scattered the petals in the lake, washed our feet, said a prayer to God in our own language, and continued exploring the area.

This part of Rajasthan continues to see drought year after year, leaving the lake much lower then normal.

We found a nice cafe in the shade to beat the head and enjoy some food. Another great meal for under $4.

The cafe was briefly mentioned in the guidebook as being off the beaten path, and highly recommended. The temperatures were still in the 90’s, but not quite as humid as Delhi.

Luckily our hotel had a pool! We only spent one day and one night in Pushkar. There were several temples we chose not to go into. At this point in trip we were both a bit overwhelmed from visiting so many Hindu temples. Later, we would again learn to appreciate the beauty in a few of them. It just felt like that’s all our guide wanted to show us was temples. Nearly every city had hundreds of them. So when we had to opportunity to wander we chose just to take pictures from the outside. I also got a little tired of constantly having to leave my shoes at the entrance, then pay some guy to watch them...

Rajasthan Part 2: Monkey Palace

2011-07-02T07:53:00.000-08:00

Our trusty Rough Guide to India led us to Galta, or also called the “Monkey Palace” on the outskirts of Jaipur. I’m not sure our driver would have taken us had it not been recommend by a couple other travelers. Built into the sides of a rocky ravine around a fresh water spring is an old temple. At some point the monkeys overtook the buildings and made it their home.

In order to get to Galta, we first had to walk up and over Surya Mandir- a temple perched upon a high ridge overlooking Jaipur.

The spring wasn’t meant to be a ghat, but several people took the opportunity to cool off from the Rajasthan heat. Shortly after the pool party got started several tourist police showed up and aggressively throw the swimmers out.

Monkeys were visible everywhere. Some escaped the afternoon heat for shade within the spring house. Others dipped in and out of the murky green water. Looking closer several families of monkeys were hiding within the cliffs above.

The monkeys were not at all shy. Some seemed to be posing for the camera. While others just went about their business like we weren’t even there. When I think about it India had lots of animals living closely near humans, both going about their business. I guess in a country with over a billion people everyone creature has to find a way to get along.

We would later see lots of monkeys in various places on our trip, but the Monkey Palace was by far one of the most unique. It was certainly fun seeing them take refuge in such a neat location.

Rajasthan Part 1: Jaipur

2011-07-01T19:55:00.000-08:00

Entering Jaipur the highway snakes through a rocky ravine. Cliffs sprinkled with bands of red and gray rock hang over the narrow two lane road. Cars rush into and out of the city. Our driver, KP, had his favorite hindi pop song blaring from the radio. As our small Tata sedan raced into the city there were escarpments everywhere. It was hard to tell which were hundreds of years old, and which were part of a more current motif. Like most cities this big- people, donkey carts, camels, motorbikes, rickshaws, buses and elephants littered the streets. As we sped across town to our hotel our driver KP was pulled over for running a red light. It was a bit uneventful. Somehow in a sea of cars crossing the intersection we were singled out by one police officer watching the traffic. They don't have flashy vehicles or lights and sirens like in the United States. Instead it was a single traffic cop standing in the center of the intersection with a baton and whistle. Violently he blew his whistle and pointed to our car, motioning for us to pull through the intersection and off to the side. I was a bit clueless where we were supposed to pullover as streets have little room for multiple lanes of traffic, much less a lane for parked vehicles. KP found a spot to squeeze into, grabbed his registration book from the glove box, and hopped out of the vehicle. I'm not really sure what exactly what was said during the interrogation, but I remember seeing the accused pull out his wallet, hand the cop 100 INR, then return to the car. Nothing was said and we continued on our way.

Jaipur, also known as the "Pink City" is a favorite amongst tourists coming to Rajasthan. It was also the first stop on our two week tour of Rajasthan. Along our drive we quickly left the lush jungles along the Yamuna River valley and entered into hilly arid forests along the eastern edge of the Great Indian (Thar) Desert.

Gretchen in front of the Pink Palace.

We spent two nights and three days in Jaipur. Just on the edge of the city is the great Amber Fort. This was one of my top three favorite forts. It reminded me more of a medieval style castle then what we were used to seeing. Maybe it was the labyrinth of passage ways, parapets along the roofs perimeter, or the moat like channel circling the fort where I imagined alligators waiting to gobble up enemies invading from Pakistan.

Walls connected several different small forts and watchtowers along the hills overlooking parts of the city.

Rajasthan is known for its ornate style of decoration on everything. Heritage hotels are covered in bright vibrant paintings. Within the inner buildings of the Amber Fort were these gorgeous wall paintings.

Wandering around palace passage ways, with more neat stone lattice letting in the light.

Unlike any other fort we visited, the gardens here were spectacular.

The Maharaja's bedroom had mirrors covering the wall as decoration. Again my imagination ran wild wondering what this place must have looked like when people lived here. Vibrant silks hanging from the ceiling. Velvety sheets and pillows spread atop ornamental rugs on the floor. Musicians throughout the palace playing classical music on the sitar and tabla. Smells of spice wafting throughout the rooms. It would have been so rich in color, sound, and activity.

Usual crowd hanging outside the tourist entrance.

More animals wandering the narrow streets outside the Amber Fort.

Neighborhoods tucked into the valleys below the Amber Fort.

After visiting the Amber Fort our driver insisted we take an Elephant ride. So we wove around Jaipur to the stables.

A 30 minute elephant ride costs 1300 INR, which is about $30.

Riding an Elephant was actually very comfortable. We made a couple loops into the suburbs and farmland around Jaipur.

Jaipur has several nice lakes around the hilly city. Some have floating palaces built in them.

In the city is the Jaipur Palace. There is still a local king that lives here so parts of the palace are closed for living quarters. Other parts of the palace are set aside as museum exhibits.

More ornate painting. This peacock art was on the entryway to the door above.

Within the city palace was an art studio where you can visit people working. This gentlemen invited me to sit down and gave me a brief lesson on using the loom. I felt like I was making a fancy bathmat for Austin Powers.

Our last stop in Jaipur was to visit a rug factory. Despite the usual pushyness to purchase a rug, we really enjoyed seeing how they were made. Gretchen was even invited to tie a couple knots. It was amazing to see how intricate the patterns get with many strands of color. The dyes used are all natural, mostly coming from various vegetable oils. I believe these are somewhat similar to a persian rug. No, we didn't buy one.

India Road Show Kickoff

2011-07-01T14:16:00.000-08:00

After one full day in Delhi we were ready to get out and see the country. Our driver picked us up early and we headed South. First passing out of the city into the province of Haryana, then crossing the border into Uttar Pradesh. Despite spending almost two months in India, I haven't quite figured out what sort of autonomy, rights, and power the states have in line with the federal government. Fact: India is the largest democracy in the world. I say this because crossing borders was a big deal. We were required to stop. All drivers are required to stop and turn over proper documentation along with paying a small fee. In some cases it appeared cargo trucks were stopped for hours getting proper registration.

Just North of Agra we stopped at Sikandra, site of Akbar the Great's mausoleum. Akbar was one of the great muslim rulers unifying large parts of Northern and Western India in the 16th century. We would end up visiting a couple sites associated with his rule, this being the first.

Gretchen stands in front of the great gate, the main entrance into the tomb complex.

Mughal architecture was very symmetrical, and very geometric. All the tombs, forts, and palaces were laid out in grids or patterns of four. They would also use multiples of that number in domes or peaks along roofs.

An interesting wild deer within the outer walls.

Feeding the wildlife.

All four cardinal directions had mosque style shrines like the one above. The mausoleum lay in the center. The symmetry was beautiful, as you can see in the repeating arches behind me in the photo below.

More repeating arches.

The white marble and red rock were gorgeous color contrasts. It was hard to believe this shrine was over 400 years old. I've visited Civil War cemeteries less than 200 years old in much worse condition.

Gutters ran down the middle of most walkways to channel off heavy monsoon rains in the summer. Having these channels or pools of water also served as an air conditioning systems in some places.

Gretchen walking out of the inner tomb.

More amazing stone lattice. Two men guarding shoes.

The main entrance gate, looking from the inside.

It was really hot here, probably the hottest we had been the first couple weeks. The temperature was well over 100 degrees with extremely high humidity.

After a hot afternoon walking around Sikandra it was good to reach Agra. We checked into our hotel, and enjoyed the air conditioning. Later we went out to see the Taj Mahal.

On our way out of town we stopped by the Agra Fort. I liked this fort better then the Red Fort in Old Delhi. The fort here was a little less crowded and allowed more freedom to wander. Visitors can only see a small portion of this fort as large sections are still in use by India's military.

The major fortifications of this complex were laid upon pre-existing earthworks by Akbar the Great around 1565. The fort spans a nice hillside overlooking the Yamuna River and the bustling city of Agra.

I was pleased to see this two story library. Its amazing to think about books and what knowledge they might have had back then. Akbar was an advocate for books, later we saw more bookshelves at his other palace Fatehpur Sikri.

Similar marble to what was used in the Taj, part of his inner chambers.

Golden ceilings, it must have looked amazing 400 years ago.

The Taj Mahal visible in the distance down the Yamuna River.

After leaving Agra we began our journey into Rajasthan, but just before crossing the border into another state we made a stop at Fatehpur Sikri. This palace was built upon a small ridge deep in the jungles around 1569. It would serve as Akbar's capital seat until 1585. Nestled in the country side it was much quieter then Agra, now, and 400 years ago.

Again, the Mughal style of architecture was everywhere. Notice the symmetrical domes in the background and repeating arches in the foreground. The area in the foreground that looks like stables was actually his female servant quarters. Stone rungs were still carved into the ceiling for hanging silk curtains separating each of these apartments.

Looking out over the countryside right along the border of Uttar Pradesh and Eastern Rajasthan.

Wild monkeys everywhere, a common sight in most of India.

More bookshelves. This office or study style room was elevated above the main courtyard allowing nice breezes to blow through during hot muggy summer days.

This building was his main reception hall. Inside intricate stone carvings decorated everything. The ceiling had a cathedral like feeling, with stone supports covered in repeating designs.

Finally, a watchtower overlooking the scrub land. Despite being one of the great Mughal emperors, Akbar still had enemies.

The Taj Mahal

2011-06-30T19:15:00.000-08:00

Agra, once the capital for all of India under the Mughal dynasty- today it is still a bustling city. Situated at the apex of the tourist triangle, for obvious reasons it falls upon almost every foreign visitors itinerary. No trip to India is complete without a visit to the Taj Mahal. This sacred wonder of the world is more marvelous in person then any picture gives credit to. We contemplated lots of different options for visiting. Our driver talked us into an early morning visit, then a late night visit- explaining low angle light illuminates the marble in various shades and hues. Upon arrival to Agra we hooked up with Kumar, a local guide. Kumar is a recent college graduate that usually serves as a certified guide for Russian visitors since he speaks their language fluently. Lucky for us it was the off season in Moscow and we got Kumar all to our self (his English was also excellent). Excitedly we found out it was the 356th anniversary of the death of Shah Jahan. Jahan built the Taj as a tomb to enshrine the love of his life that died in 1631. Devastated by her death after giving birth to their 14th child, the monument was meant to be a reminder of her beauty and his love for her.

Normally the entry into the Taj complex costs about 750 rupees, or $17. Since it was free, thousands of domestic tourists flocked to visit and pay tribute to the Mughal kings death. Several of the entrances had lines in the hundreds wrapped around the outer perimeter walls. Luckily with the help of our guide and driver we skirted around multiple entrances to find a western gate with no "que".

Drizzly monsoon rains gave the tomb a somewhat lackluster feeling at first. Quickly the vastness of its size along with an onslaught of thousands around us transformed it to the majestic appearance I expected. Everyone seemed to be moving towards this megalithic like shrine, as if we had all arrived to a party at exactly the same time. Who knows how many visitors came that day, it had to be in the tens of thousands. I was reminded in a country of 1.9 billion it's pretty easy to drum up 10,000+ people for almost any festival. Unlike some places, people didn't stop to take our picture- they were to busy taking pictures of this gorgeous structure.

We spent about an hour, just approaching the monument from several directions, taking in the magnificent enormity of the structure. It had very much the same palatial feeling a lot of marble complexes in India had, but this was just a little different. Situated above the banks of the Yamuna River with gorgeous gardens on all three sides. As we walked closer and closer the Taj revealed her real artistry. Etched in stone everywhere were intricate designs. Set into the etchings were stones of various color from around Asia. Against the marble it was spectacular.

The quintessential tourist picture.

Our guide Kumar.

After moving from the red stone patio up onto the same level as the marble photographs were no longer allowed. You can see the line wrapped around the edge of the upper marble patio. Here we waited in line only about 30 minutes. Due to the importance of this holiday extra security was brought in. Indian Army armed guards moved throughout the crowd carrying machine guns. Kumar, wanting to provide the best experience possible for his guests continuously tempted fate asking guards permission to cut in line. Being patient Alaskans we just went with the flow, periodically Kumar would come back, grab us, and push into a better position in line. I felt a little awkward, but didn't speak the language. So we just sort of played the stupid tourist routine, smiling at all the people we were cutting in front of as Kumar translated some novel story in Hindi.

Waiting in line provided a much better opportunity to gaze upon the amazing marble work. The Taj Mahal took 20,000 workers 21 years to complete. Shortly after completion Shah Jahan found his reign overthrown as his son seized control, partially in protest of the debt caused from construction of such a monument. Along with loosing power was the hopes of building an identical Taj for himself. Jahan wanted to begin construction of another Taj Mahal directly across the river, but in all black stone. A black Taj, can you imagine that?

As we got closer and closer to the entrance you could feel the energy building in the crowd. Quickly we removed our shoes at the entrance as dozens in front of and behind us flowed into the small opening. It felt like being shot through a narrow slot in a wave of motion. Kumar grabbed us from the current of hot sweaty people, pulling us off the side. I got my first chance to look around. Light was entering the first room through the marble lattice work above the small doorway we entered from. Most people were pushing down a set of stairs, going to the crypt below. Our guide explained that area is rarely open, saying "just bodies, lets go look at the center room instead". In the core of the Taj Mahal light entered on all sides from two levels of marble carved lattice work. Two coffin shaped slabs of marble lay in the middle of the room, directly above the lower tombs of this mahal's permanent residents. Using a flashlight Kumar showed us the impressive intricacies and translucent nature of the stones used in the etchings. Deep blues and purples laid along side bright fire reds, and gorgeous greens. After about 10 minutes roaming this chamber we exited out a side door.

A breath of fresh air and one more chance to gaze at the enormous monument. This is India.

The Taj Mahal, as seen North-West from the Agra Fort. This photo was taken from the prison suite where Jahan spent the last years of his life.