Learning to dress

I received an invitation to an event this weekend that called for formal or Indian dress. I thought it would be a perfect excuse to finally wear the sari that I had bought at the beginning of the year and has been laying folded in my closet since then. But how? How was I to get this three meters of fabric wrapped around my body? Wrapped so that it would not fall off, and would look *something* like what it is supposed to (I suppose perfect it too much to ask of a foreigner!). Luckily my maid Mrs. Kaur was at my house Saturday morning. I asked her to help me learn what I was doing. Thirty minutes later I was laughing in amusement, but fairly sure that I would be able to wrap myself up reasonably well that evening. To begin with she had me put on the petticoat, an integral part of the outfit as it actually holds the entire thing up, tucking the first round into the waistline, tugging all over to get it to hang straight, just barely brushing the floor. A lot more adjustment, some discussion as to how I wanted the end to drape, and she continued to even things out. Working from both sides she gathered the excess material in the front, carefully folding seven pleats into the fabric then tucking those into the front. With four adjustments to the folds over my shoulder I was starting to wonder how in the world I would ever get it put back on four hours later. Luckily she had a plan. A couple of safety pins held both sets of pleats in place, an extra one lower down would keep them from falling out until I was dressed later. Then it all came off and I tried to replicate the look. The first attempt wasn't so good! I got a couple of reminders and took it back off to try again. We didn't stop until I passed Mrs. Kaur's inspection. I'm sure it wasn't perfect, but she decided it would be good enough. Then she reminded me to add a few safety pins in key spots to hold everything in place and let me take it all off. I guess she tutored me well and I got several compliments from the Indian women at our event, goodness knows I couldn't have done it without her! I can't say a sari would ever become my daily outfit, but I did feel very elegant in it, even if it was a bit like playing dress up.

Morning view

A knock on my door at 5:15 woke me from an uneasy slumber on a wooden pallet. As I contemplated the reason for the early wake up I knew I was going to have to give up my warm cocoon for the frigid air. I quickly tumbled out, added another three layers to what I was already wearing, tugged a cap over my head, slipped on my mittens and grabbed my camera. As I stepped outside, despite the wind whipping by, I breathed a small sigh of relief. The sky was clear so we should get good views with the sunrise. I clambered up on a rock, trying to position myself for a good view (and photos without other heads in them). There was just a hint of pink on the tip of Kanchenjunga as the sun began its slow rise. Click, click. It seemed every minute I was taking another photo as the light spread a bit wider highlighting more of the range. Now you can see the upper outline they call the sleeping Buddha. Click. Light has reached the lower peaks. A glimpse off to the east and the sun is starting to appear over the pine trees. Duoa, our guide, directs my attention to the west. As I slide down the rock a bit to get around a tree in my sight, I snatch my first glimpse of Mt. Everest. Proudly poking above the clouds, the sun is just now starting to lighten its face. I can't believe how big it is. A mountain above mountains. Yeah, yeah, you know its the tallest mountain in the world, but until that moment I didn't realize just what that meant. The idea that people actually climb to the top flabbergasts me. It seems to remote, so up there, that I can't quite believe that even at this moment there may be a group of climbers pushing to summit. For me, the view from this point is good enough. Well almost. I go clambering down and walk as fast as I can to the upper hill of this camping town, looking for that one spot that will give me an unspoiled view of both Kanchenjunga and Everest. A view that doesn't have trees marring the way. A view that I will hold in my head as we walk all the way back down to road. 

Hiking in India

I had a hard time deciding what to do this spring break. Did I want to stay in India or travel elsewhere? Was there anyone going someplace I was interested in? (The answer to that one ended up being no) In the end I found a group that was organizing a trek along the Singalila Ridge in West Bengal, India along the borders with Nepal and the state of Sikkim. That is about all I knew, but decided that since I liked spending time outside in clean air it would be interesting to do the five day hike. 

What did I get myself into? The first three days we were hiking mostly uphill on rough rock paved roads. Little did I know we would spend half of a day in Nepal.  Crossing a border where it seemed only India cared, forcing us to sign out on a paper register but not marking a thing on my passport. I know I left India, but I'm not sure when I actually entered Nepal as they didn't seem nearly as concerned about record keeping (of course India only cared about the two foreigners in our group).

Each afternoon we pulled up at a tea house where lunch was being fixed. Of course that wasn't our first stop of the day. Usually we stopped at least once for a break to drink a cup of tea, either black or with milk. At one of the tea houses our guide got us a glass of the local rhododendron wine (made from the red flowers not the white) which is a local medicine for just about everything. At another the guys had fun getting the chickens to snatch crackers out of their hands. One day the entertainment was getting the goats to look the honey off their finger. At still another I couldn't resist taking pictures of the kids sitting at the side of the house. 

After three days of climbing up we were at the highest point of our trek, Sandahkphu, where if the weather was in our favor we had been told we would be able to see the Himalayan Range, including Mt. Everest and Kanchenjunga. Well luck was with us and the next morning we got to see the world's highest and third highest mountain (but more on that later). 

The last two days we went mostly downhill, and I have to say that the fourth day was by far the most difficult. When you go down in the Himalayas, you really go down. Down through a forest of bamboo, fire burned remnants and rock paths. Down until you reach the flowering slopes of the small village of Ghum. A restful oasis where we spent the night. It was a good thing we only had a couple more hours to go the next day before climbing into a car to head back to Darjeeling as I was so sore I could hardly take a step down the next three days. As we rolled up to our hotel I have to admit I felt a mixture of relief, success along with the thrill of knowing a hot shower was just minutes away.

For not having much of an idea what I was getting myself into I ended with a pretty spectacular Spring Break that took me from 2200 meters up to 3636 meters, from mountain fields through forest to bare top views of snow capped mountains. The Singalila Ridge trek was definitely an adventure.