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.

Yuksom (Sikkim, November 15-17, 2008)

We arrive in Yuksom in late afternoon and have lunch. While the Czechs go to Sikkim's oldest gompa (monastery), Dubdi Gompa, I use the Internet at the Community Information Center to write mom and buy a train ticket to Delhi so that I don't miss my flight in the case that I decide against extending my plane ticket.

We stay at Hotel Demadzong. It is actually colder here than in Khecheopalri Lake, but I have three blankets, so I am warm at night. I take a lukewarm shower and then crawl into bed the first night. I had planned to meet the Czechs at a restaurant for dinner and for a beer, but it turns out everything closes at 8pm. I am so tired and cold that I don't meet them later at the hotel bar/restaurant.

The next day, we wake up and have breakfast at the hotel restaurant, as the Czechs had arranged it the previous night. The food served is not nearly enough, and so we go across the street to the restaurant at which we ate the previous night and extend our breakfast. I order an apple pancake in addition to the banana-honey porridge I had at the hotel restaurant. The apple pancake is amazing! The Czechs eat a lunch-like breakfast--ordering chop suey and much else.

After breakfast we walk together to Norbugang Park, which contains a prayer house, chorten and the supposedly original Coronation Throne (Norbugang) where the trio of Tibetan holy men were crowned the first chogyal of Sikkim in 1641. In fact, according to the Lonely Planet, the word Yuksom means, "meeting place of the three lamas." We visit the prayer house first and find a giant prayer wheel inside. We not only spin it, we hold onto it and let it drag us across the floor (clockwise, of course) as if it is a playground game. Sacrilegious, yes. The throne is not that impressive, but we are excited to spot the governor of Sikkim and his entourage walking through the park. The Czech Buddhists decide to meditate at one end of the park, and Katka and I decide to go on a hike while we wait for them. We start heading down a hill, but stop because we don't want to have to hike up again. We return to the site of their meditation, and notice some locals sorting a wheat-like crop nearby. We try to ask what it is, and I think they say it is millet, used to make the local brew.

Later in the day, I make my way to Dubdi Gompa, Sikkim's oldest monastery, established in 1701. The climb is steep, and there is no resident monk to open the buildings, but I am determined to see the sight. There are some stupas along the path leading to the gompa. Characteristically, the gompa and the newer cubic prayer house at the top of the hill high above Yuksom are painted colorfully. There are few people around, except for three local guys who ask me to take their picture. I am especially proud of a close-up picture I take of a bright green grasshopper clinging to the monastery's vivid red and yellow wall.

That night, we gather at the hotel restaurant/bar and, at the request of the Czechs, the owner has prepared the local millet-based alcohol in a huge pot. He adds hot water to the millet and we sip through thin straws made of wood. He says he won't serve us dinner until we finish all the alcohol, to which he keeps adding hot water. We circle the straws around the room. Finally, we finish the alcohol to the manager's satisfaction and can have dinner. At some point, Beda finds a guitar and plays and sings. We have such fun. Finally, it is time to go to sleep, and I say good-bye to each of the friends who had been so kind to let me tag along on their hikes and share biscuits and meals. They have shown concern for me as a single female traveler, and offer their hospitality if I ever make it to Prague. I am sad to be separating from them, but know I have my own time constraints.

I wake up early the next morning, quietly dress and pack so as to not wake my roommate Katka, descend the stairs to the street, walk to the share jeep stand and wait. I am on my way to Darjeeling today, but the route is not direct. I will go from Yuksom to Pelling to pick up my pack and the bulk of my belongings at Hotel Kabur, then take a short share jeep ride to Geyzing, which is a transit hub, then take another share jeep to Jorethang, another transit hub, and finally arrive in Darjeeling, West Bengal.

Khecheopalri Lake: The Dalai Lama's Personal Chef, Czech Buddhists and Mountain Caves (Sikkim, November 12-15, 2008)

In the afternoon a share jeep that has left from Geyzing picks me up at Hotel Kabur in Pelling, along with two not particularly friendly Australian tourists, and takes us to Khecheopalri Lake. One of the Australian tourists had just finished reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy and is going to donate it to the hotel library (which consists of about five shelves of books), but I ask him if I can have it and he gives it to me. "It looks like a quick read," I say. "It's good. It's depressing," he says. When I later read the book on a train ride back to Delhi, I am endlessly grateful he gave it to me. I am awed by McCarthy's writing as I absorb his post-apocalyptic story of a father and son venturing across a desolate America.

The hike up to Pala's Guest House is up an incredibly steep hill. A boy, maybe 11 or 12 years old, wearing a T-shirt that reads, "Sid Vicious--Drugs Kill," is at the bottom of the hill to ensure we make the ascent. I am surprised that I stay ahead of the Australian couple, who seem to be struggling. I walk with the boy most of the time, but when he asks me questions, it is difficult for me to catch my breath and respond. I am just hoping the guest house is nice, because I don't want to leave the hill and find another after the climb. The rooms are perhaps the most basic I stay in throughout my entire trip. The walls and floors are thin wood, my bed is a slab of hard wood, and I have to ask several times for another blanket, as nights are cold. My light switch is in the room of another traveler, so I turn my light on and off by screwing and unscrewing the light bulb.

Despite the rustic conditions of the guest house, the legacy and personality of its owner makes the stay worthwhile. Pala, born in the same village that is now home to his guest house, lived in Tibet to attend monastery when he was younger. He eventually became the personal chef of the Dalai Lama. He had two previous wives, but they were killed by the Chinese during the Communist Revolution. He then moved back to his village near Khecheopalri Lake in Sikkim, where he now runs the guest house and teaches meditation. He is a lama in the Nigma tradition, which is a part of Tibetan Buddhism. (The Dalai Lama is a lama in the Galupa tradition. The third form of Tibetan Buddhism is Karmakachi. This is information I gleaned from the Czech Buddhists I befriended.) Pala is ethnically Lepcha, which is a tribe from Tibet. He is 82 years old and has fathered 11 children with his third wife. The youngest child is six years old. A lama is a teacher who, unlike a monk, is allowed to have a family.

Almost immediately when we arrive, dinner is served. With the former chef for the Dalai Lama overseeing the preparation of food, all our meals are excellent. They usually consist of bhat (rice), dhal (lentils) and two choices of subji (vegetables). On this particular night, one of the subji is beans and potatoes and the other is greens. There is always hot water in a thermos for making hot chai, and sometimes cardamom pods to add. When it gets dark, I move to the fire, around which other travelers sit for warmth. I chat with the Australians and also meet a guy from the UK who likes to talk. I go to bed early, as it gets quite cold at night.

I am very fortunate to meet a group of 10 friendly travelers from the Czech Republic, nine of whom are Buddhist, and one of whom is a friend and tagging along. With the fall of Communism and state regulations on religion, there is a surge of young people exploring their religious options in the former USSR. Consequently, there are quite a few Czech Buddhist tourists who are attracted to this part of India. The Czechs I befriend all belong to the same sangha back home and Pavel, who has already traveled in India and Nepal, has organized the itinerary for their pilgrimage. They are mainly sticking to the important Buddhist sights, found in Bihar, Sikkim, Nepal and Bodhgaya. They prefer the more natural, peaceful parts of India and didn't seem to have the best experience when they first entered the country in Delhi. Then again, most travelers don't have positive first impressions of the country. That comes after learning how to navigate the touts and traffic, and after making many mistakes.

Katka is Pavel's girlfriend, and she has brought her friend, also named Katka, and the only non-Buddhist in their group. Beda and Mira are two of the more boisterous members of the group, often cracking jokes and drinking alcohol. I didn't know Buddhists could drink so much alcohol, but I suppose culture overrules religion in this situation. Beda, Mira, Katka and I spend maybe two nights talking and laughing around the campfire as the other Czechs couple off to bed. Alena and Tomas (I think, but could have been Dan) are a couple, but I cannot speak to them much because they don't speak English. Dan (or could have been Tomas) is a nice guy who is very precise with the photographs he takes. There is one other couple, but I am sorry I didn't record their names. They are on a slower travel schedule and will spend more time in Sikkim and in South Asia.

The next day (November 13), the Czechs invite me to hike with them to important caves where famous Buddhists have meditated. Apparently they had tried to get to the first cave the previous day, but had become lost in "the jungle" in the dark, and so decide to attempt it again with a guide. The guide is the same young boy who led me up the hill, presumably Pala's son. Our first hike is to Guru Rimpoche cave, where Rimpoche, an important yogi/lama in the Nigma tradition had meditated. Pala has meditated in the same cave for three months at a time. The hike to the cave is quite a surprise for me. We go through jungle-like forests, with walking paths no wider than two feet and having a steep drop-off on the edge, and with ground that is often wet, slippery and not always dense or stable. I am impressed that the Czechs were able to navigate the jungle the previous night, and now understand why they kept calling it "the jungle" in their retelling of how they got lost. I find that going down is more difficult than going up for me because I am so afraid of slipping and falling. I am surprised I am able to keep up pretty well, however. We return to Pala's guest house for an excellent lunch, similar to the previous night's dinner. Our breakfast this day had consisted of a Tibetan pancake (my favorite of Pala's creations), fried egg and sliced potato with a light sauce.

After lunch, Pala leads us to the next cave, named after Mela Ripa, the most famous Tibetan yogi. As legend has it, when Mela Ripa's father died, people wanted to steal the belongings of him and his mother. At his mother's request, he began to practice black magic and was successful at killing his enemies. He then realized what he had done and began to practice meditation. He became a very good ascetic and had to practice very hard to make up for his tremendous sin. Because he ate only nettles, he is always depicted as having green skin. As with the Guru Rimpoche cave, there is a small opening through which to go further into the cave. We go in and out the same hole at Mela Ripa cave, but Pala comes out a different, more challenging hole.

On our walk home, Pala leads us to the home of one of his village friends. We are invited into an attached room where there is a fire pit and cobs of corn hanging densely from the ceiling. Two men are performing a Nepalese healing ceremony, dancing ecstatically throughout the house and outdoors. Apparently a sick person died recently and they need to purify the area by doing this. We are given chhang, a local alcohol made out of fermented millet. I take a sip and decide to stop, trying to pawn my cup off to one of the Czechs who is willing to drink it. We hike back to Pala's Guest House and chat over dinner and around the fire.

The next morning (November 14), we gather for a breakfast of fried noodles with vegetables, tossed with spongy chunks that are either yak cheese or eggs. The Czechs invite me on yet another cave excursion, and once again I tag along, completely oblivious to the challenging hike that is to come. Today we are headed to Green Tara cave, the most famous in Khecheopalri Lake. According to my Czech Buddhist friends, Green Tara is an emanation of the Buddha's energy field. She gives people a kind of wealth--that is, she gives them what they need so that they are satisfied. Doma is the Tibetan name for Tara and means "to liberate." The color green symbolizes a strong connection with animals. Since it is the most well-known cave, Pavel (the unofficial group leader) erroneously reasons the route leading to it will be the easiest. In actuality, it requires a 500 meter ascension at a pretty steep grade, and a 500 meter descent to return. Our guides are Deepen, the twin brother of Deepesh, who owns Hotel Kabur in Pelling, and Deepen's girlfriend Chudy, one of Pala's daughters. Near the cave, Pala has a small building that is a meditation center. We return to Pala's Guest House in the afternoon for a great meal of dhal, bhat and subji.

At night, we sit around a fire and Pala tells stories. I have a difficult time understanding because his English is so broken. The Czechs seem to be able to understand better because they have a background in Buddhism. Deepen sometimes translates. One lesson I do understand is that being clean inside, as opposed to outside, allows one to rise up. At one point Pala picks up a red coal from the fire, juggles it between his hands, and then places it in his mouth for maybe one minute, maintaining a placid expression on his face. The Czech Buddhists tell me this is a technique used to warm the body, especially during long meditations in the cold mountains. The coal meditation unites the internal fire with the fire from the coal. Since this is our last night, Pala gives us a farewell gift of a locally-brewed alcohol made of vegetables and rice. As with the chhang, I don't drink more than a few sips.

The next day (November 15), we plan our departure. I am torn between hiking to Yuksom or sharing a jeep. Seven of the Czechs do the hike from Khecheopalri to Yuksom, but three of them and I share the cost of a jeep. We also take many of the hiker's bags with us. The ride is only about two hours long, but on very rough roads, so the driver needs to backtrack to Geyzing to get more oil before picking us up, and this makes the ride expensive (Rs. 1400 total; I pay Rs. 225). I do regret not having done the hike, but I chose not to for good reason. I was afraid I would have slowed everyone down. Also, I was sore from the previous two days of hiking and didn't want to get sick or hurt.

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...

Gangtok, Sikkim (November 7-9, 2008)

I cram into a share jeep with a bunch of Indians for the four hour journey from Siliguri to Gangtok, Sikkim's capitol city. The jeeps don't leave until they are completely full. Next to the driver there are two women in the front seat. The middle and back seats all have four people. I am in the back seat, but luckily I get a window.

I arrive in Gangtok at night. I take a taxi to New Modern Central Lodge, supposedly the cheap hotel where backpackers stay. But the room I am shown is freezing cold and the bathrooms are shared so I am skeptical there will be enough hot water to go around. I search the street it is on, Tibet Rd., for another option. After trying to bargain a decent price at a few places, I settle on Hotel Silver Line for Rs. 250 for a double. (It seems most hotel owners take pity on me, a single traveler, and give me a better price on a double if they don't have any singles.) After Hotel Maria in Kolkata and other Indian and Bangladeshi hotels, I am surprised at how immaculate this place is. They even give me a towel and soap!

The next day, I head to MG Marg (Mohatmas Ghandi Road) and try to find a good price for a tour of the area. It seems it is inefficient to try and visit most of the attractions on my own, as public transportation is not readily available to reach them. Finding a tour isn't an easy task, as I am traveling alone and it would be much more affordable to join a group and share the price. Luckily I find a travel agency that is willing to give me a driver without taking any cut of the money because his work has fallen through for the day. When I return to this agency to confirm the tour, two Americans from Hawaii show up and I invite them to join me, which they decide to do.

Walking around, I am impressed at how clean and quiet the streets in Gangtok are compared to those in other parts of India. The buildings are colorfully painted, mainly in pastels. We can see the peak of Mount Khangchendzonga in the distance.

Our tour includes, in this order: Chorten Stupa, Namgyal Institute of Tibetology, Shanti Viewpoint, Rumtek Gompa (a gompa is a monestary), Lingdom Gompa and Jankri Waterfalls.

A stupa (also called a chorten) is a mound-like structure composed of a solid hemisphere topped by a spire and containing Buddhist relics, typically the remains of a Buddha or a saint. They exist wherever there are Buddhists. As such, I saw many in Leh and Sikkim.

The Namgyal Institute of Tibetology, housed in traditionally styled Tibetan architecture, was established in 1958 to promote research into Mahayana Buddhism and Tibetan culture. It contains one of the world's largest collections of Buddhist books and manuscripts, plus statuettes, thangkas (Tibetan cloth paintings) and sacred objects, such as kapali (sacred bowl made from a human skull).

Rumtek monastery, a short distance from Gangtok, is the contemporary home of Buddhism's Kagyu (Black Hat) sect. The sect gets its name from the ruby-topped headgear used to crown the Karmapa (spiritual leader) during key ceremonies. According to legend, the hat is woven from the hair of angels and, as such, must be kept locked in a box to prevent it from flying back to heaven. According to my Lonely Planet guidebook, "Nobody has seen it since 1993 when the 16th Karmapa died. Only when the 17th Karmapa is finally crowned, will anyone dare to unlock the box and check" (578). Within the Rumtek Gompa Complex, the main monastery building, according to my Lonely Planet, "was constructed between 1961 and 196 to replace the Tsurphu Monastery in Tibet which had been destroyed during China's Cultural Revolution" (577).

Lingdom Gompa was completed in 1998, but it is just as visually attractive as older monasteries I have seen. My Lonely Planet has a nice description: "Its structure grows out of the forest in grand layers with photogenic side towers, though the exterior paintings are not especially accomplished. Th extensively muralled main prayer hall enshrines a large Sakyamuni Buddha wreathed in an expansive gilded aura. Frenetic chanting adds to the magical atmosphere" (578). Indeed, we are able to observe monks chanting and playing cacophonous wind instruments inside the prayer hall. On the day we visit, the monks are also cleaning the entire complex, an intricate task that will presumably fill many days, despite all the monks who are available to work. We watch as they pour soapy water over a ledge to watch some stairs--a photogenic moment.

Jankri waterfalls are not especially impressive, but the park that has been built near them is. The park is a testament to the environmental agenda Sikkim is pushing. There is a wall edged with solar panels to generate energy. The playground consists of a giant wheel which, when propelled by human walking or running, generates energy which is used to play music and light small LEDs. The slide has a belt that moves when someone slides down which also generates music.

I have dinner with the two Americas after our tour and stay one more night in Gangtok before heading off to Pelling.

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).