Lady Xanax - Adventures in India Travel

Written immediately after arriving in Dharamkot

19, July 2011

I wouldn’t necessarily call myself a seasoned traveler, especially if you compare me to a majority of the people I’ve met during my visits to various continents but I’m definitely not one of those too fearful or scared to uproot their normal routine in the US to not venture into the wild of the world.  I can say, in my limited travel experience I absolutely ABHORE touristy places.  Touristy places have been added to my list of 5 star resorts of places I don’t care to see whilst exploring the world and I’m glad they are there for the people who feel that is the way to travel but not me, no way, no how. 

My time in Rishikesh came to a close yesterday afternoon and while I don’t think I was fully prepared for the tearful good byes, last conversations with those I care very deeply but once the wonderful faces I came to love started to leave I felt like I couldn’t get out of Rishikesh fast enough.  The last weekend was the beginning of what used to be a huge spiritual festival for Shiva and people, predominately younger guys looking to party, sporting tiny orange shorts that hid NOTHING, and their bright orange shirts w/ Shiva’s face plastered all over them flooded our little haven of holiness.  I spoke to Sanjay on our motorbike ride to see his guru who runs and lives in a guest house just inside Lakshman Jhula and he said that the spirituality has completely disappeared and now it’s just a bunch of people coming to the city to have fun and party with their friends.  Now I wouldn’t exactly say it was like Vegas considering Rishikesh is not only alcohol free but you can’t even get a meat dish to eat but I’m sure hash was smoked by the masses.  Part of the celebration is to walk from wherever you live, grab a bunch of water from the Holy Ganga and dispense some up the mountain at the Shiva temple and take more back with you to your home, on foot.  It was MADNESS!

Seeing the guru was a different experience, which I won’t discuss here but it was a nice way to end my stay in Rishikesh and it was nice to spend some time with Sanjay because as little as we interacted, I felt drawn to him and really appreciated and enjoyed his morning asana practices.  He is a kind soul and has a wonderful smile and spoke with us all without condescension.  Jade and I gave ourselves 2 hours to get to the bus station in Rishikesh proper thinking we could just walk all our tons of shit across the Ram Jhula bridge, grab a tuktuk and be good to go.  Oh no… thanks to the festival, it was actually and very surprisingly not too crazy getting out of Ram Jhula but where there are usually hundreds of tuktuks waiting to charge westerners too much for a 2km ride, there were NONE!  We had to haul all our shit up the hill and walk another 1km or so and were welcomed by a bunch of tuktuk drivers wanting to charge the 2 of us 150INR for what would usually cost 5INR each.  Strong and angry words were spoken and finally we found a guy who would shove the two of us, and our shit, into a an already packed tuktuk w/ an adorable and very friendly little family.  One of the older woman offered to grab my “smaller” bag and hold it in her lap for me as I half sat on the already ridiculously tiny seat and half hung out the tuktuk door, gripping onto my 1ton bag for dear life so it wouldn’t fall on anyone.  Jade somehow managed to get herself and her monster back in this thing too.  If I didn’t think I’d fall out of the tuktuk into oncoming or passing traffic, I would’ve documented.  Oh and I should add, all of the tuktuk drivers tried to tell us we were wanting to go somewhere we didn’t want to go.  Haridwar, Dehardun and only god knows where else they said they were going to take us.  We had to actually yell at them as the 3-4 tuktuk drivers were around us all spouting we were wrong and needed to go elsewhere.  I yelled, “LOOK!!  THIS *pointed to my ticket* IS WHERE WE NEED TO GO! NO WHERE ELSE! Can you do that and not for 150INR!  We’re not stupid, this drive normally costs 5INR from 1km BACK!”  That’s when the one guy chuckled and said, “OH, you want to go to Shiva temple to catch the bus to Dharamsala?”  “YES!  That’s what we’ve been saying for the past 5 minutes!”

Jade and I get dropped off at a gas station and I see no Shiva Temple so we, and all our shit, are standing on the street corner looking confused and also terrified that any of the busses we see across the street are what we’re going to have to take.  The busses in India are NOTHING like the shear luxury that is Cruz del Sur in Peru.  We ask some gentleman also just chillin at the gas station if we’re in the correct place and he points to a random, unmarked waiting room that’s a tiny building on the side of a restaurant and are told it will be another out.  Jade and I meet a very sweet girl, Uma, from South Korea who came to India 5 years ago after getting her heart broken and has seemed to get stuck in various places for whatever reason… love, dance, yoga, meditation. There were a few Israeli people, one girl who was SMOKIN and after a few other sightings of the many Israeli people here, I’ve decided I need to go there. J  About 10 of us waiting in this weird little waiting room and all of a sudden a tiny Jeep comes up and the guy hops out and says, “Ok, the bus is 1km away. Come.”  He throws all our monster bags on the roof and we somehow manage to cram every inch of this car with us and all our stuff and as soon as the doors are closed he yells to the back, “100INR each!”  I’m glad to know I’m not the only one with some aggression in this place and one if the Israeli girls yells at him, “NO!  We are NOT paying you anything!  This is where we were told to go and we bought our bus ticket.  WE ARE NOT PAYING YOU!”  The driver gets out and looks flustered and we’re all about to get out, grab our shit and trudge through the crazy india traffic to get ourselves to the train until he gets back into the car, chuckles and says, “ok, let’s go. No charge.”  AH! 

We get dropped off at the back of the bus and there are a bunch of India dudes just chillin, shootin the shit and we all sit in the middle of the street or precariously on the edge of this ledge where below is a stream of the grosses looking urban sludge you could imagine.  All of a sudden a guy who we thought was in charge hops on a motorbike, says, “be back soon” and takes off.  Our bus was supposed to leave at 4, it’s now 4:30…oh india time, how I love you.  None of us know what’s going on so we do what everyone in India does best, just sits there.  About 20-30 minutes later he arrives again and we’re allowed to put our luggage into the back of the bus and board.  The buses are very simple and I’d almost like to compare them to school buses in the states but there are 2 bucket seats next to each other on either side of the aisle, they do recline and there is a small storage compartment above our heads.  This is apparently the luxury buses in India and no, I didn’t have high expectations.  I’ve come to understand the best way to enjoy your time in India is to have zero expectations at all, maybe even on the boarder of low expectations.  For $21 it wasn’t bad BUT if we want to compare countries, Cruz del Sur in Peru, Daddy and I got bus tickets from Lima to Huacachina for just over $30 for the luxury seating, which are like first class seats in planes, you get food service, there are bathrooms on the buses, as opposed to hopping off, running to the muddy, potentially shitty side of the road (you can’t tell because it’s pitch black outside) to cop a squat and do your business.  There are also movies and A/C in Peru, in India, you’re lucky to get a working fan and windows that open by your seat.  Note, this was a deluxe bus, the public bus, from what I hear, is more like a school bus.

The first part of our journey, once we finally left, was beautiful.  We left the busy hub of Rishikesh and made our way through various small towns.  The sun was setting as a HUGE deep pink orb behind the corn fields and mountains, the air was getting more crisp and less shit and exhaust filled and it was really pleasant, especially since it wasn’t fully booked and Jade and I each had our own row. Once the sun was down I decided there wasn’t much need to be conscious anymore. Thanks to the lovely over the counter medical stores in India, I popped my lady xanax and within moments I was chill as ever and a moment later, I passed out, not to wake again until the sun was rising over the Himalayas and we were only an hour from McLeod Ganj. We get to McLeod Ganj, which is upper Dharamsala where the Dalai Lama lives when he’s here and it is touristy as hell and I’m hoping to god the Iyengar center isn’t here.  It felt like Lakshman Jhula but busier and dirtier, which I didn’t think possible.  I’m still groggy from the xanax so I let Jade attempt to take the reins on where we’re going but neither of us really know and god knows it’s a crap shoot believing any Indian.  Uma thought the Himalayan Iyengar Center was in Bhagsu but upon getting a tuktuk to take us there we ask the driver and he says, ‘Oh no, it’s in Dharamkot.”  Shit, that sounds familiar and thanks to the center’s website for going down a few days ago, we didn’t have info on exactly directions but that sounded familiar.  Our tuktuk driver rolls his eyes, charges 3 times more than we were originally going to get charged but we’re off in the other direction.  Jade finds this adorable guest house that has HOT WATER and really kind manager.  We ate at the little café a few doors down and I proceeded to take my first hot shower in months… HEAVEN!  Oh AND my text messaging works in the mountains.  Yes! 

Signing out – from beautiful, non sticky Dharamkot

Xxxo

Dirty – not really J