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.
Showing posts with label Yuksom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yuksom. Show all posts
Monday, June 8, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
