ain't no mountain high enough

WARNING: the following post contains rambling gushing fangirl-like tendencies.

I'm creating a new category of fangirl, the one who obsesses over where to take her suitcase. In this instance, I'm obsessing over the tiny mountain paradise better know as Bhutan. It took me all of an hour to fall in love with the country, but I'll try to tone it down for your sake.

Bhutan is a small country (slightly larger than Maryland) nestled between India, China, and the Himalayas. It is known as the Land of the Thunder Dragon and colorful dragons are often painted around doorways to protect homes. The state religion is Vajrayana Buddhism, and gorgeous old monasteries can be found across the country. Although previously an absolute monarchy, the country transitioned to a constitutional monarchy in 2008. Pictures displaying the current [5th Dragon] King and Queen can be found in shops, hotels, public squares, and even pinned to the clothing of residents.

Bhutan operates on the principle of Gross National Happiness, which was coined by the 4th Dragon King, Jigme Singya Wangchuck, when he famously stated, "Gross national happiness is more important that Gross National Product." GNH has four tenets: the promotion of sustainable development, preservation and promotion of cultural values, conservation of the natural environment, and establishment of good governance. Something I really love about the country is their strict ban on smoking and tobacco products in public places. Being caught results in a hefty fine. Needless to say, the country is pristine.

Before I go on and on about my Bhutanese adventure, let's talk logistics. Getting a visa for Bhutan is a colossal pain in the tuckus. Unless you hail from India, Maldives, or Bangladesh, prepare for frustration and shelling out some cash. Foreign nationals can expect to spend $200-250 per night for their visa to Bhutan. Don't even bother looking for plane ticket prices online because you can only book a ticket through the two national airlines once you have visa in hand. You are required to go through one of the government approved tour operators, who will take care of everything--plane tickets, hotel stay, guide, transportation, travel permits, and meals. My visa was literally approved and then I was airborne 36 hours later. It should be noted that the visa price includes everything--food, guide, car, hotel. There is no backpacking or hostels in Bhutan. You have requirement to stay in a minimum of a 3 star hotel, and you cannot leave your designated city unless you have an approved travel permit. Yes, the whole thing seems excessive, but the government wants to promote "high value, low impact" as their tourism policy. Despite the visa rigamaroo, Bhutan did not disappoint!

If you get car sick, I would highly recommend bringing some Dramamine. The roads twist and turn through the mountains, offering breath-taking views of the countryside.

You can also expect to see an abundance of colorful flags dotting the land. These are prayer flags, and the colors have significance (i.e. multi-colored flags are for good fortune; clustered white flags are for healing).

I spent my 4 days in Bhutan at Mountain Echoes, a literature, art, and cultural festival hosted in the capital city of Thimphu. The city is nestled in a valley with traditional architecture and has not a single traffic light. The main road has a policeman directing traffic, although I prefer the term "traffic maestro". I spent an afternoon wandering through shops and watching him direct traffic as if he were conducting a symphony.

Although I spent most of my time at the festival, I did have the opportunity to do some sightseeing. I spent a morning visiting Buddha Dordenma, the world's largest sitting Buddha (169 ft). Traditionally, people associate Buddha with the laughing figure whose big belly you rub:

That is actually the Hotei/Budai Buddha (his big belly symbolizes that he is full of love and compassion), just not the original Buddha. The original Buddha is Siddhartha Gautama (also called Shakyamuni). [Shakyamuni] Buddha Dordenma sits on top of a hillside near Thimphu. The gate to the statue was closed the morning I went, so I ended up hiking up a side path. The statue is meant to bestow blessings, peace, and happiness on the world.

I also had the chance to visit two Buddhist temples. I had hoped to visit some monasteries, but I didn't have the necessary travel permits.  My first stop was Changangkha Lhakhang, a 12th century temple overlooking Thimphu. I happened to be there on the day in which the religious texts are picked up by school boys and taken to the schools across the region for people to receive blessings. Several stoop-backed elderly men and women waited for them to pass, gently bumping their head on the underside of the texts. The temple is for worship of Chenrezig, the 11 headed, 1000 eyed, 1000 armed manifestation of  Avolokitesawara, the Lord of Compassion. I was only allowed to take pictures of the exterior, but the interior of the temple housed gorgeous frescoes depicting Buddhist teachings and a large golden and white statue of Chenrezig.

The second temple I visited was the Thangtong Dewachen Dupthop, home to 20 Buddhist nuns. It is much smaller than the Changangkha Lhakhang, but is commonly used for prayer ceremonies such as healings or naming of a newborn. The nuns were engaged in a chanting ritual while I was there and several people were spinning the prayer wheels and doing their mantras.

I certainly can't visit a new and exotic locale without sitting down for a traditional meal. I made my way over to the Folk and Heritage Center for a huge feast. The meal started out with butter tea (imagine liquid buttered popcorn) and bowls of crunchy cereal-like food. I couldn't tell you the names of everything I had, but it included red rice, buckwheat pancakes, potato, asparagus, and emadatshi (green chilies with yak cheese). The dessert was fruit with green tea.

I would be remiss to not mention the incredible people of Bhutan. Everyone I met was friendly, humble, and extremely patient with me. The highlight of my trip was a very exclusive dinner at the palace of the Queen Mother Ashi Dorji Wangmo Wangchuck. She is the chief patron of the literature festival I was attending and a huge supporter of literacy and an author in her own right.

I didn't feel comfortable snapping photos at her palace, so you'll just have to use your imagination! Her palace is on a hillside surrounded by a garden with huge pink and white azalea bushes. The building was traditional Bhutanese architecture with white exterior walls, arched wooden windows and sloped roof. The tall ceilings were wooden, hand-carved, and inlaid with gold. The walls were covered with scenic landscapes and intricately woven tapestries.

The Queen Mother personally greeted me with a hug and kissed my cheeks, and then proceeded to chat with me about my job and education of deaf students in her country. As if dinner wasn't surreal enough, her demeanor and humility was the icing on the cake. She truly epitomized the grace and spirit of Bhutanese people. I had a chance to mingle with the various presenters and government officials. I complimented a kind gentleman on his gorgeous traditional Bhutanese boots, only to realize I was talking to the Prime Minister.

At the end of the evening the bus taking us back was full, so I found myself waiting for a second bus to come. I was kindly offered a ride by one of the dignitaries at the dinner. We chatted about his mission to spread awareness about drug and alcohol abuse across the country, as well as his desire (and active work) to bring electric cars to the country. It wasn't until he dropped me at my hotel that I found out I had been given a ride by the favorite cousin of the king! Hands down, Bhutan has some of the most amazing people I have ever met among my travels.

My flight back to India offered me an amazing a view of Mt. Everest, which mainly served as a cruel reminder that I would soon be returning to the very hot desert.

My time in Bhutan was far to short. If I had a chance to do it all over again, I would add a few extra days with additional travel permits so I could go river rafting and visit some of the monasteries. It is a beautiful country with beautiful people!

peace train

It seems that India draws two types of tourists: the bus of retirees with knee socks and cameras around their necks or the crunchy granola types seeking a spiritual awakening and inner peace. As someone who lives here, I am mostly looking for yummy food and air conditioning. However, it goes without saying that you cannot leave India without dabbling in yoga in meditation.

Although I never sought it out, happenstance took me to a weekend retreat at an ashram in southern India just outside of Bengaluru (commonly called Bangalore). Have you ever called a customer service hot line only to be greeted by an outsourced department? You're probably chatting with someone in Bengaluru. I spent my weekend at the Art of Living in their Happiness Program. As someone who is quite happy and relatively easy-going, I was curious to see what they had to offer.

The Art of Living started in 1981 and has a presence in over 150 countries. It is headed by Sri Sri Ravi Shankar (not to be confused with the sitar player) and promotes a stress-free and violence-free society. The organization as a whole is actively involved in global humanitarian activities. Although the principles of the organization have a heavy Hindu influence, it welcomes practitioners of  all religions. The ashram in Bengaluru acts as the headquarters.

My 4 days at the ashram consisted of a regimented schedule of yoga, meditation, instruction, and evening satsangs. We started off every morning at 6:30 with an hour and a half of yoga. Despite not touching a yoga mat since college, I have surprisingly retained a bit of flexibility. I hate being awake before the sun comes up, so this schedule resulted in a mostly grumpy Lee over the entirety of the retreat. The rest of day was spent meditating (I am total crap at it and get very bored), learning the Sudarshan Kriya (a breathing technique meant to put the body, mind, and emotions into harmony), and learning the sutras of happiness (simple principles to apply to life). The evenings were spent at an outdoor terraced lawn arena for satsang (translates as "assembly of truth") attended by thousands of people. Basically, it consisted of thousands of people gatherings to chant in Sanskrit and have their questions answered by Sri Sri. I mostly sat there slapping mosquitoes and checking my watch for when the cafeteria opened for dinner.

The most fascinating part of the weekend was attending a sunset puja (prayer ritual). The program I was attending was exclusive invitation-only, so I was able to do things regular attendees were not privy to. The sunset puja was conducted on a quiet corner of the ashram property not normally open to visitors. It was performed by a group of student pujaris (training to become temple priests). They chanted and made burnt offerings to Ganesha while the sun dipped below the horizon.

Art of Living has a multitude of devotees, closely following the teachings of Sri Sri and the ashram. Perhaps I have a short attention span and proclivity towards skepticism, but I couldn't help but view it as a money making business parading around with guarantees of peace and happiness. I don't deny that there was definite wisdom behind the sutras, but I don't need to pay gobs of money for someone to instruct me on them. My favorite part of the entire weekend was the yoga, despite the early morning wake up call.

land of confusion

I've been here for almost six months and although one adapts to their surroundings quickly, there are still plenty of things about India that are downright baffling. And so I present to you:

Top 10 Befuddling Things About India: A Firangi's Perspective

10. Noise

India is, without a doubt, the noisiest place I've ever been. The vehicles honk incessantly because apparently that is so much easier than using a blinker or mirror. The distinct sound of bus horns is cringe-worthy. My one bus ride (from Agra to Jaipur) left me in a state of anxiety-ridden exhaustion after 7+ hours of the horrible trilling bus honking. If it isn't the traffic, it's the vendors yelling in the streets as they push their wooden carts. My Hindi is abysmal, but I'm certain they are calling out fantastic deals on papaya or puppets or pants. If not for the honking or the yelling, there is the ungodly number of pigeons. My favorite part is when they hold dance parties on my bedroom AC unit in the middle of the night. I'm sure my neighbors have grown accustom to the snarling banging white girl next door yelling obscenities out her window at 3am.

I read a fantastic book called Cutting for Stone (high-five Mom!) and there is this great scene where one of the characters is awed by the silent highways of New York after emigrating from Ethiopia. While Americans may find this comical (New York? Quiet?), I quickly identified with the character's description. I desperately crave the blissful quiet of driving stateside.

9.  Wednesdays

India has cultural and religious customs deeply ingrained in daily activities. One of the most perplexing is the art of buying a new vehicle. You should always buy a vehicles on Wednesdays and never Saturdays. Mid-week is an auspicious time to purchase iron products and the weekend is a disadvantageous time to do so. After finalizing the purchase, you must have it taken to the nearest Ganesh temple (never drive it!). There, a pandit (priest) will bless the vehicle and draw a tilak as well as swastik for bringing fortune. As an outsider looking in, I find this particularly ironic given the careless abandon with which people drive around here.

8.  Litter

When telling people I was moving to India, I was commonly met with stares and exclamations of, "but India is so dirty!" It's true, the amount of trash is of nightmare proportions. People throw wrappers and trash on the ground without a second thought. Beautiful sites like the Jal Mahal has litter choking the shoreline. My friends and coworkers have quickly learned that I will openly fuss at them if I catch them tossing trash on the ground. New buildings are constructed and large piles of rubble are left at the entrance gate. Although my area is comparatively clean, it can be very discouraging to see dogs, pigs, monkeys, and [sacred] cows foraging through large piles of garbage on the more congested streets. Perhaps Sweden should consider importing garbage from India!

7.  Instant Popularity

It is no secret that a white girl in Asia can expect to have their picture taken regularly. It isn't until you live here and experience the daily requests that one can fully appreciate the hilarity of it all. I am stared at constantly. I truly sympathize with celebrities, because I now keep sunglasses and a scarf (to cover my red hair) to avoid the paparazzi. In the area I live, most people recognize me and I am left in relative peace. Send me to any historical monument or large event, and I am guaranteed to draw a crowd requesting  autographs and pictures. At Taj Mahal, the line of people waiting to take a picture with me became so long that Nikki told them he would be charging 10 rupees per picture. For those of you who follow my Instagram, you saw my pictures in the Hindi newspaper simply for my sunglasses and way of drinking tea. Although the instant celebrity of being so pale is annoying sometimes, my favorite part of my walk to work each morning is the gaggle of school girls (perhaps 10-11 years old) that shyly approach me to practice their English and wish me a good day.

6.  Saris

Saris are arguably one of the most beautiful things a woman can wear. They are also one of the most complicated things to wear. I own 5 saris, but the prospect of tying one is so daunting that I've only worn a sari once! It doesn't matter how many times I read Wikihow or how many times I practice, I might as well be John Belushi in a toga a la Animal House. Assuming you master the art of sari tying, you then have to learn to walk in one. Luckily I am a high heel professional, so that part isn't difficult. The real task is learning to ride on a motorcycle in a sari. I always pass Indian women gracefully perched side saddle in their ornate saris. No matter how much a I practice, I doubt I will achieve their effortless riding style.

5.  Postal System

I have received a number of awesome care packages since living here. Typically, they arrive with no issue. Then, there is the occasion where I receive the dreaded customs notification. To say that India is a land of bureaucracy and corruption is an under statement. A simple trip to customs is not an annoying wait-in-line-and-deal-with-disgruntled-employees affair. Instead you are sent up dark stairs to a storeroom that has stacks of boxes and mail behind locked cages. Not to mention the friendly rats that scurry along the floors and the pigeons that swoop in through open windows. I'm pretty sure some of the mail has been there since before I was born. 

After checking in with the first man, you are ordered to write a letter requesting your package. You're then sent to a second man who doesn't even read your letter and fills out numerous papers and a register book. At that point you're sent back to the cages in hopes of someone retrieving your package. An angry looking woman with a giant bowl of wax glares at you. Several men sit on the floor stitching linen wrappings around boxes. You glance around nervously and pray the rats don't take interested in your sparkly flats. Then someone barks at you to tell them what you've been sent (I don't know? Christmas gifts?). You try to look as innocent as possible, because they stare you down suspiciously. They look in your package and send you to meet another man. He wants to see proof that you're living and working in India. He wants to know where you're from. He wants to know if you speak Hindi. "Thoda thoda" (very little), you reply. You are sent with your package to the first guy you met with. You still try to look innocent even though it's obvious your box only contains velveeta and rotel tomatoes. Mmmm, delicious queso contraband. The wax lady comes in and glares some more. The first man asks you to pay him a bribe, but you misunderstand and think he is asking if you want chai. You smile and politely decline. He asks again. You still don't want chai. He grimaces and waves you out the door. You scurry down the scary stairs and only when you are safely in the car does your friend inform you that he wanted money. I just want those 2 hours of my life back.

4.  Animals

An adolescent monkey hitching a ride on the back of a pig? Passing an elephant on the highway because it was lumbering along too slowly for your taste? Riding a camel during sunrise? Sidestepping cows while walking to work? Being chased by a stray dog after sidestepping aforementioned cows? Watching cats peacefully sleep next large monkeys grooming themselves on the neighboring rooftop? Being forced to stop on the highway while a herd of goats cross? Yep. Just a typical day in India.

 

3.  Domestic Staff

It is possible that moving back to the states will render me helpless and depressed. Never mind my diminished popularity stateside (see #7), I am so spoiled with domestic staff that it'll be a wonder if I remember how to make toast! Having a staff in the home and office is insanely common here. I have access to a fantastic chef from Nepal who is insuring that my vegetarian diet will lead to weight gain. I have a maid that comes six days a week to wash my dishes and make my bed. I have another maid who comes to clean my bathroom. I have a laundry service that hand washes and delivers my clothes to my door. Granted, everything is ironed with newspaper in them. I have a very patient driver that tries to teach me Hindi and takes me on random errands. There are two guys in my office whose sole job is to keep us up to our eyeballs in chai and coffee. The Indians generally wonder how Americans can survive without a household staff. I laugh at their wonderment, but can't complain. Plain and simple, a gal can get a little spoiled.

2.  Poverty

The income gap in India is staggering. I mentioned in this post that almost 2/3 of Mumbai's population is living in the slums. Begging children tap on your car windows while stopped at a red light. The larger monuments have crowds of children and adults begging in the streets leading up to the entrance. They boldly approach, tug on your clothing asking for food and money. I have read terrible reports of parents purposely disfiguring their children in hopes of earning more while begging. Child prostitutes can be seen in crowded areas soliciting men. It is truly the most heartbreaking thing I have ever witnessed. It is an internal struggle every time I happen upon begging children, because I know that giving money only enables the cycle of behavior. There is a serious lack of educational and social welfare programs to intervene. Of all the things I've mentioned about living in India, this is the hardest to confront.

1.  Happiness

Despite the loud crazy overwhelming frustrating experience, I am most surprised with how happy I am here. I love the people. They are gracious, friendly, and always willing to help. The colors are vibrant and unapologetic. The history and culture is rich and beautiful. As much as I miss brisket tacos and bacon, the food is fantastic. There are plenty of days that make me want to pull out my hair, but they are far outweighed by the days of peace and happiness.

Don't worry Mom and Pops, I promise I'm not staying permanently.

learning to fly

January 14 is a day that everyone in Jaipur looks forward to--it is celebrated as the first day of spring (although the weather begs to differ), the Hindu pilgrimage to Galtaji, and the annual kite festival.

Mankar Sankrati is a state holiday, and residents of Rajasthan spend the day on rooftop terraces with kites, loud music, and plenty of food! Amit and I ventured into the wall city to our friend Chetna's home. Her rooftop provided the perfect vantage point for watching the kite fighting and making our own attempts. My little purple kite lasted about five minutes before it was taken down by a triumphant neighboring kite flyer. However, my kite string wasn't coated with glass or rice like the serious kite fighters. My iPhone isn't exactly kite picture friendly, so this picture from Gujarat gives you an idea of what the spectacle looked like:

Shops and street stalls around the city had colorful kites for sale.

 

It is actually quite dangerous to be riding through the streets of the wall city during the kite festival. Kite strings are tangled through the streets, and its very easy for an unsuspecting rider to get a string wrapped around them. A five year old girl riding on the front of a motorcycle was strangled by kite string during the festival this year. A student organization mobilized to rescue birds that were injured by haphazard kite strings.

My favorite part of the festival was riding through the city and seeing all the sellers of the balloons for the kiddos not quite ready for the responsibility of kite flying.

The flying closes at nightfall with the gathering of fallen kites for a bonfire and celebration of the day.

dock of the bay

I swear, this post will contain nothing about a fort.

Work sent me to Mumbai at the end of December, so I had a chance to get out of the desert of Rajasthan and ring in the New Year in a new and foreign place. Like Delhi, Mumbai is an undulating mass of people and vehicles. However, I found myself liking Mumbai leaps and bounds over Delhi. The people are friendly, the city is cleaner, and I felt safe everywhere I went.

Mumbai is about the same size as Chicago, and 20.5 million people call it home. It is comprised of 7 islands that the Portuguese referred to as Bom Bain, meaning "good little bay". In the mid-nineties there was a political campaign to change the name from Bombay to Mumbai, as many claimed Bombay was simply an bastardized version of the original name. Many people use the name interchangeably and I have yet to decide which moniker to stick with.

Despite being the financial and commercial capital of India, 62% of its inhabitants live in the slums. Where we see large gaps in financial status in the US, Mumbai's class gaps are staggering. Mumbai is the home to Dharavi, the world's 2nd largest slum. It covers an area of 535 acres and has its own micro-economy within its confines. I've read that it has a turnover of over $500 million USD per year. The people living in the slums have filled gaps that others (upper class) refuse to do themselves. For example, Dhobi Ghat is a large open air laundromat that has garnered the business of hotels, hospitals, and those in high rises.

Other enterprising inhabitants created slum tours for people to view the activities of the slum in an up close and personal manner. The tours are guided by youth that have grown up in Dharavi and close to 80% of the proceeds go back to those in the slums. The guide I met spoke impeccable English and definitely contradicted everything I had imagined. Although I didn't go on a tour myself, I suspect I will go on one before I leave India.

Mumbai is also home to Bollywood, which is the world's largest producer of films. In my experience, they are long and overly dramatic. They almost always contain multiple dance numbers and I can't help but giggle every time. It's hard to take a drama or action movie serious when the characters break out into spontaneous dance numbers.

 

In contrast to the palaces and other historical sites that I've grown accustom to in Jaipur, Mumbai is decidedly cosmopolitan. The architecture has a distinct Gothic appeal and clear influence from its time as a Portuguese and later British colony. 

One of the most recognizable landmarks in Mumbai is the Gateway of India (not to be confused with the India Gate in Delhi). It is in southern Mumbai facing the Arabian Sea, and was build to commemorate the visit of King George V and Queen Mary. Today it stands as a reminder of the British colonization of India. It was the perfect place for tea and watching the boats come into harbor.