Sightseeing in Darjeeling (West Bengal, November 18-21, 2008)

I end up spending about five days in Darjeeling, which is more than I had expected. There are many sights on the Darjeeling tourist list, and I am determined to see most of them. My arrival and departure dates are quite rushed, so I suppose I really only end up using three of the days for sightseeing. The other two days are for moving in and out.

First, I take a two-hour tourist "joy ride" ride on the Toy Train, and visit the train museum en route. The British are credited with directing the construction of the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway, or Toy Train, in the mountains of Northern West Bengal. Its inaugural journey was in September 1881, and it is one of the few hill railways still operating in India (India Lonely Planet 535). Without it, the region would have been geographically and economically disconnected from the rest of the country. Thus, although the British presence in South Asia was detrimental in many ways, colonization also resulted in important development projects that had a positive impact. Despite their oppression under British rule, many Indians today seem to retain a subtle sense of reverence for the Crown.

I also visit Observatory Hill, which was the site of the Dorje Ling Monastery (the city's namesake), and is sacred to both Buddhists and Hindus. Today, devotees of both religions come to a temple in a small cave to honor Mahakala, a Buddhist deity and an angry form of the Hindu god Shiva. I arrive at dusk and am a little confused as to where the interfaith temple is located. There are a few other worship spaces on the hill, a labyrinth of prayer flags and devotional bells. A Hindu man eagerly offers to take me on to the temple. Although I should know better by now, I tell him "no money," and because he concurs, I decide to follow. He shows me that, indeed, this is a site for both Hindus and Buddhists--pointing out the iconography and small sculptures unique to each religion. He then walks me through a Hindu prayer, dabs color on my forehead, and shows me now to tie a special knot with a red string, which he advises me to use to pray for my family. As we are walking away from the temple, he asks if I want to buy some marijuana. I didn't see that one coming! Apparently at the other worship spaces, it is common Hindu practice to smoke weed. I tell him no and walk away. I circle the hill a few times, hoping for a nice sunset view and photo opp of the Himalayas and Mt. Khangchendzonga, but this is not to be had.

I cannot recall the order in which I visit the next sights (it has already been six months since I was in Darjeeling), but during the next couple days I visit the following:

I walk quite a ways from my hotel, through Chowrasta, Darjeeling's town center, and to the Tibetan Refugee Self-Help Centre. According to my India Lonely Planet, this refugee center, established in 1959, "comprises a home for the aged, school, orphanage, clinic, gompa and craft workshops that produce carpets, woodcarvings, leatherwork and woollen items" (536). Not listed are the village toilets, my first stop. A sheltered, long, shallow trench (rather than the usual deep hole in the ground), they definitely make my "worst toilets" list for the trip. Things get better as I visit the craft workshops, however. Most of the Tibetan artisans are willing to let me photograph them, and I get some great photos as they spin yarn, some on bicycle wheels.

After the Refugee Center, I continue walking quite a distance in search of Happy Valley Tea Estate, the only Darjeeling tea plantation listed in my guidebook. En route, I take a break at some roadside stands selling Darjeeling tea. Not knowing how long I'll have to wait to find a proper restaurant along my walk, I'm happy to satisfy my hunger a stand that prepares fresh vegetarian momos for me. The savvy saleswoman also prepares samples of tea for me, and I am sold on the silver leaf tea. I buy a nice box for Austin, who has been such a gracious host in Delhi. I also buy a cheaper bag of green tea to take back home.

I continue walking on my way, asking for directions to make sure I don't get off track. I am determined to see a tea plantation here because Darjeeling is famous for its tea. According to my India Lonely Planet guidebook, "The tea bush was first brought to Darjeeling from Assam by British planters looking for a way to break China's monopoly over the tea trade. Credit for the discovery of tea as it's drunk in the Western world should really go to the Khamti and Singpho tribes of Assam, who first introduced British explorers to the healing powers of fermented tea leaves brewed in hot water. Darjeeling produces around 25% of India's tea, including some of the world's finest brews...Teas from estates around Darjeeling and Kurseong (also marketed as Darjeeling tea) regularly and justifiably achieve the world's highest prices" (535).

I finally arrive at the Happy Valley Tea Estate, only to find that I am late for the unofficial tour. A friendly employee, however, lets me inside and doesn't even accept a tip! Although the machines have shut down for the day, I still get to see the withering trough, where high-speed fans reduce the moisture content of the leaves, before they're rolled with heavy rollers to force the remaining water onto the surface. The rolled leaves are then fermented in a high-humidity chamber to produce their distinctive flavor. Fermentation is stopped by passing the leaves through a dry air chamber, which reduces the moisture. The finished tea is sorted into grades--unbroken leaves are set aside for Golden Flowery Orange Pekoe teas, while broken leaves end up as Golden Broken Orange Pekoe, Orange Fannings and Dust--and then graded by expert tasters. Low-grade leaves are blended into household teas, while the best leaves are sold to international tea traders (India Lonely Planet 535). I also see a few women working in a separate room, finishing off their leaf sorting for the day. After visiting the tea plantation, I continue on my way back to the center of town and to my hotel.

Another day I walk from Chowrasta to the Padmaja Naidu Himalayan Zoological Park and the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute. The zoo was built to conserve and preserve Himalayan fauna, including Himalayan black bears, red pandas, snow leopards, Tibetan wolves, and India's only collection of Siberian tigers. It is quite impressive in that the animals are caged outdoors, in a rocky and forested natural environment.

The Himalayan Mountaineering Institute is near the zoological park. Although this is not my main interest, my Uncle Mike and brother are both climbers, and they have piqued my interest in the sport. The Institute, founded in 1954, both provides training to some of India's leading mountaineers, and hosts the fascinating Everest Museum, which traces the history of attempts on the world's highest peak. Next door is the Mountaineering Museum, with a relief model of the Himalaya, dusty specimens of Himalayan fauna and more historic mountaineering equipment (India Lonely Planet 536). I am especially interested in the history of attempts at Everest, captured in historical documents such as newspaper clippings.

On my third day in Darjeeling, I am surprised to run into the Czech Buddhists I had befriended in Sikkim. We plan to tour Darjeeling together the next day, but they have to book a flight to Nepal as the overland route is temporarily closed due to flooding. Instead, I tour myself and we plan to meet up in the evening to see a Bollywood film. Unfortunately, I am running late and so I go to the theatre alone, hoping to run into them.

I enjoy the film Dostana, which is Hindi for "friendship." It is a comedy about two Hindi men living in Miami who pretend to be gay in order to convince an apartment owner to rent an apartment to them. The owner hesitates because here niece lives in one of the three apartments, but because they are gay, she allows them to rent. Predictably, they both fall in love with the woman, named Neha. What follows is a series of funny scenarios as they try to win the girl while juggling their fake identities. Although the plot is unoriginal, it makes the Hindi film easy for me to understand. I enjoy the music, dancing and humor very much. Apparently, this is the first Hindi film that addresses homosexuality.

I am disappointed to miss the Czechs at the theater, so I walk to their hotel, hoping they will be in the dining area. Luckily, the two Katkas are sitting at the table, and I am able to deliver the box of sweets I bought for them. Soon, the rest of the Czechs come into the dining area, and I am able to hug them all goodbye one last time.

The next day I leave my Darjeeling hotel and take a 2.5 hour share taxi to Siliguri. I am a little worried I will miss my train, as the car isn't filling up quickly, and we have to slow down to pick up travelers along the way. But the driver assures me I'll make the train. He leaves me off in Siliguri, and I take a share rickshaw to nearby New Jalpaiguri, where I will catch my train to Delhi on the same day. At this point, I am still debating whether I should extend my flight, which was originally scheduled to depart Delhi on November 25. I don't want to miss the train, because it might be a few days before I can book another seat, and that would be cutting it close to my flight.

Arriving in Darjeeling, aka Gorkhaland (West Bengal, November 17, 2008)

In the early morning, I take a share jeep from Yuksom to Pelling, where I pick up the bag in which I had left the majority of my stuff with the kind folks at Hotel Kabur. From Pelling, I take a short ride in a share jeep to Geyzing, a transit hub where I catch a third share jeep to Jorethang. Here, I have a quick lunch of vegetarian momos, a Tibetan dumpling with spicy red sauce which I know will be harder to come by in less Buddhist parts of India. I find the share taxi to Darjeeling, climb into the front seat and wait until the taxi fills to capacity and we are able to embark on the two-hour journey to Darjeeling, West Bengal.

After arriving in Darjeeling, I climb a huge hill, following a maze of crowded, narrow streets that weave between homes, restaurants and shops. The lower portion seems to mainly appeal to the locals, and as I climb, I see pockets of markets and streets geared to the tourists, likely climbing the hill for a panoramic view of the Himalayan backdrop, and especially Mount Khangchendzonga (8598 meters). I have also found that the higher, more strenuous the climb, the cheap the hotel.

I follow the advice of the Deepen and Deepesh at Hotel Kabur an find the hotel they recommend, near the top of the hill. After comparing this to a few other hotels, I decide on it because of the price and the functional hot water heater for the shower. Darjeeling, like Sikkim, is cold, and I want to be sure I will have access to hot water, even if it is only during certain times of the day. Other than this, there isn't much special about the hotel, except for a very helpful young man (perhaps the owner's son), who draws me detailed maps to facilitate sight-seeing in a city with very confusing paths and roads. There is also a nice restaurant near the top floor.

Even though we are not supposed to do laundry in our rooms due to water shortages--and are instead supposed to pay someone to do our laundry for us--I manage to continue washing my own clothes. It is something have done throughout my journey not only to save money, but because it is the little bit of work I have to do while traveling, and I grow to enjoy the daily routine of bucket washing my clothes, stringing a drying line between chairs or window frames, and hoping my clothes dry reasonably quickly.

According to my India Lonely Planet, "the Darjeeling area belonged to the Buddhist chogyals (kings) of Sikkim until 1780, when it was annexed by the invading Gurkhas from Nepal. The Gurkha's aggressive territorial expansion led to growing conflicts with the British and, after several battles, the East India Company gained control of the region in 1816. The company then returned most of the lands back to Sikkm in exchange for British control over any future border disputes.

"During one such dispute in 1828, two British officers stumbled across the Dorje Ling monastery, on a tranquil forested ridge, and passed word to Calcutta that it would be a perfect site for a sanatorium; they were sure to have also mentioned its strategic military importance in the region. The Chogyal of Sikkim (still grateful for the return of his kingdom) happily leased the uninhabited land to the East India Company in 1835 and a hill station was born. Forest gradually made way for colonial houses and tea plantations, and by 1857 the population of Darjeeling reached 10,000, mainly because of a massive influx of Gurkha laborers from Nepal.

"After Independence, the Gurkhas became the main political force in Darjeeling and friction with the state government led to calls for separate state of Gorkhaland in the1980s...A compromise was hammered out in late 1988, which granted the newly formed Darjeeling Gorkha Hill Council (DGHC) a large measure of autonomy from the state government. Although this appeased some Gurkhas, the breakaway Gorkhaland Liberation Organisation (GLO) and its armed wing, the Gorkha Volunteers' Cell (GVC), have continued to call for full secession" (530).

Indeed, the Gorkhaland independence movement is still very alive today. I had heard from other travelers that during the month preceding my visit to Darjeeling, local people had organized a series of Gorkha cultural events. They used these as a peaceful protest demonstrating their unique culture compared to the rest of West Bengal, and as an argument for independence. When I was in Darjeeling, I came upon an ongoing hunger strike in Chowrasta, the town center near the top of the hill. At this time, a group of girls from a school were participating. I also saw numerous Gorkhaland flags flying high, Gorkha independence slogans painted in public places, and even Gorkhaland license plates.

Picturesque Pelling (Sikkim, November 9-12, 2008)

I arrive the evening of November 9 in Pelling, which is closer (though not as close as I thought it would be) to Mount Khangchendzonga and therefore has more spectacular views. I go directly to Hotel Kabur, which had been highly recommended to me by the American couple, and it is one of the best places I stay my entire trip. I pay only Rs. 250 for a single, and even get a towel, soap and toilet paper. The best part is the hotel's cozy upstairs restaurant, complete with wooden walls and candles on the tables. The owner, Deepesh, is in the process of purchasing a fireplace for it. Attached is an outside deck with gorgeous views of Khangchendzonga.

The owner Deepesh is a very kind Newari man who turns out to have a twin brother, Deepen, who formerly owned the hotel. Deepen now has his own construction company and is building a monastery school for local Buddhist children. The Newa people, according to Wikipedia, are the indigenous people of Nepal's Kathmandu Valley, descendants of citizens of Medieval Nepal. "They are a linguistic community with Tibeto-Burman and Indo ethnicity/race, bound together by a common language, Nepal Bhasa." The two brothers are always coming in and out of the hotel and I can never discern who I've just seen in another part of town, and who I'm now talking to. Their extended family is always coming in and out of the hotel, as is their friend, a local tour guide. All are friendly and Deepesh, Deepen and the guide are particularly helpful in my trip planning.

The first night I hang out in the restaurant. I meet some Americans (who think I am British!). The have just come from Nepal and highly recommend it. I am tempted, but decide ultimately that I'll need to save it for another trip. I order some banana porridge. Around a coffee table are 2 British men (who thought I was French!) with a local who is playing guitar and obviously drunk. One of the British men later confesses that he is their tour guide and he drinks all day long, and insists they drink with him. He's obviously a very happy drunk, if his rendition of "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" is any indication. After conversation with one of the British guys and a honey pancake, which I had been craving, I tuck myself into bed under two thick blankets and one thin one. It is significantly cooler here at nights than Siliguri was.

For my second day, I plan to see most of the sights so that I can finish them the next day and move on. However, I run into trouble when I need to cancel a train ticket I had scheduled for November 11th and no longer want to use so that I can stay in Sikkim longer. The ticket was purchased on the Internet, but all the Internet in Pelling is not working. The hotel owner drives me to nearby Geyzing (he drives over a rock halfway there and needs to stop, while I continue on alone). The train ticket office is not able to help me because I have an e-ticket. I find a share jeep to Tikjuk, where they allegedly have working Internet, but then the Indian men waiting in the jeep with me (they are in Sikkim for an engineering conference) suggest I contact a friend who can cancel it for me. I can't believe I hadn't thought of this earlier! I text Austin and also ask for the number of Phool Chatti Ashram so that I can cancel my reservation with the yoga program for the third time, as I will be staying in Sikkim longer.

Instead of Tikjuk, I ask the share jeep driver to drop me off at Rabdentse, en route to Pelling. Rabdentse was Sikkim's capital from 1670-1814 and is now the site of well-marked ruins. I arrive via a scenic stone trail. The tourist department has kept this site very nice (especially compared to some of the attractions in India). There are great views of Khangchendzonga framed by the ruins.

After Rabdentse, I walk to Pemayangtse Gompa (monastery), which translates to, "Perfect Sublime Lotus." Built in 1705, it is one of Sikkim's oldest and most significant Nyingmapa gompas. Unfortunately, it is getting dark and I cannot go upstairs the main prayer hall to visit Zandog Palri. According to my Lonely Planet, it is "an astounding seven-tiered model of [Guru] Padmasambhava's heavenly abode, hand made over five laborious years by a single dedicated lama" (584). I walk back to Hotel Kabur in the dark.

On my third day in Pelling I hike uphill to Sangachoeling Gompa, the second-oldest gompa (monastery) in Sikkim. I stay here for a while, into the afternoon, talking to other tourists, enjoying the views from a lookout, taking photographs of the monastery and prayer flags, and reading my latest book, "Interpreter of Maladies" by Bengali-American writer Jhumpa Lahiri.

I return to Pelling in the late afternoon. Again I try to use the Internet, but there is a line of people who also want to use it, and only dial-up is working...I go to the hotel and read a bit...then back down the street to see if Internet is working. I sit with some tourists and have a masala dosa (seasoned potatoes wrapped in a thin pancake, with a spicy, tomato-based soup called sambaar for dipping). Then I go back to the hotel. People are having dinner, but I am not hungry after the dosa. The alcoholic tour guide is playing guitar and trying to get people to sing. I leave to use the Internet long enough to learn that a month-long yoga course is, indeed, offered in December at Swami Vivekenanda Anusandhana Samsthana (SVYASA), a yoga university based in Bangalore, Karnataka. When the Internet stops working, I return to the hotel. The tour guide is still singing and wants someone to sing a Sikkimese song with him. For some reason my inhibitions disappear and I sing with him and it is a very fun time.

The next morning I wake up, only planning to go to Yuksom, but Deepen convinces me to instead spend the night at "Pala's place" in Khecheopalri Lake. He mentions Pala will teach meditation, show me some pictures...he says I'll love it...it all seems appealing, so I decide to do so...

Sikkim: Finding Shangri-La (November 7-17, 2008)

Sikkim is in northeastern India, nestled between the Nepal and Tibet borders. The main language spoken here is Nepali and most of the population originates from either Tibet or Nepal. The state has a unique identity when compared to other parts of India that might be considered more quintessentially "Indian." One Sikkimese man I spoke to who worked in the government tourism office had an eye-opening experience when he studied tourism at a university in south India. When his classmates asked him where he was from and he replied "Sikkim," they accused him of being non-Indian. Many had not even heard of the state.

Indeed, I found Sikkim to be a Shangri-La compared to "India." The air was cool, crisp and clean, the mountain views awe-inspiring. Khangchendzonga (kanchenjunga; 8598 m), the world's third-highest mountain, straddles the Sikkim-Nepal border. The Sikkim Tourism Department markets the state as an eco-tourism destination with good reason. Plastic bags are banned (though this was true in several other Indian cities, and paper bags made of reused newspapers were common throughout the country), and I even saw anti-smoking signs. Best of all, the people were among the most welcoming and helpful I met during my entire trip.

Since Sikkim has such a unique history, I have herein transcribed the summary of its origins from my Lonely Planet guidebook: "Lepchas, the 'original' Sikkimese, migrated here from Assam or Myanmar (Burma) in the 13th century, followed by Bhutias (Khambas) who fled from religious strife in Tibet during the 15th century. The Nyingmapa form of Mahayana Buddhism arrived with three refugee Tibetan lamas who bumped into each other at the site of modern-day Yuksome. Here in 1641 they crowned Phuntsog Namgyal as first chogyal (king) of Sikkim. The capital later moved to Rabdentse (near Pelling), then to Tumlong (now hidden ruins behind Phodong) before finally settling in Gangtok. At their most powerful the chogyals' rule encompassed eastern Nepal, upper Bengal and Darjeeling. However, much territory was later lost during wars with Bhutan and Nepal, and throughout the 19th century large numbers of Hindu Nepali migrants arrived, eventually coming to form a majority of Sikkim's population. In 1835 the British bribed Sikkim's chogyal to cede Darjeeling to the East India Company. Tibet, which regarded Sikkim as a vassal state, raised strong objections. In 1849, amid rising tensions, the British annexed the entire area between the present Sikkim border and the Ganges plains, repulsing a counterinvasion by Tibet in 1886...Sikkim's last chogyal ruled from 1963 to 1975, when he was deposed by the Indian government after a revolt by Sikkim's Nepali population. China has never officially recognised India's claim to Sikkim, so to bolster pro-Delhi sentiment the Indian government has made Sikkim a tax-free zone, pouring crores of rupees into road building, electricity, water supplies and local industry--including liquor production. As a result Sikkim is surprisingly affluent by Himalayan standards--and rates of alcoholism are the highest in the country. Meanwhile the Sikkim Democratic Front (SDF) state government has earned a reputation as the most environmentally aware in India, banning plastic bag and fining people who pollute streams" (569-570).