always returning

diskit gonpa

where was i? ah yes, the nubra and shyok valleys. wonderful place...the gonpa in diskit is particularly fascinating. the death defying ride over the khardung-la (twice, there and back) is almost worth it.

the past few weeks, i have visited the gonpas in chemre, spituk and thikse. these buildings seem so surreal, set upon some hill or ridge. cascading down the slope as if poured from the top, the multi layered structures appear to have been hewn directly from the rock.

chemre gonpa

inside the chemre gonpa, an artist is busy restoring the magnificent murals on the walls in one of the many rooms. the detail is incredible and difficult to describe. as with many experiences, words are of little use.

katey (standing) and cecile (sitting in front) watch the sunrise at spituk gonpa

sadly, the spituk gonpa has been sullied. when the indian government decided that ladakh was in need of more of a military presence along the disputed borders with pakistan and china, an airport was built just south of leh near the little cluster of homes and farms in spituk. the gonpa is now a great place to watch the jets landing as the the only runway is right next door.

looking west from the roof of the thikse gonpa (i know, everyone takes this shot)

the winds of change have been blowing for weeks now. i had hunkered down to get out of the chilling breeze yet this was, of course, futile. change comes and that's that; no amount of resistance or hiding will stop it.

after nine weeks in ladakh, i still had no particular desire to experience the vast expanses of india to the south. i was perfectly content to stay put, however, one thing stirred me in to action. it was not the desire to travel - not another place - but another soul.

soon, i was going through those surreal motions of packing up from somewhere i had come to call home. the weather was glorious as the soldiers made sure that my foil wrapped kit kat was not a bomb about to go off inside indian airlines flight IC446. delhi was only an hour and fifteen minutes away by plane but sixty some odd light years away from my heart.

where was i going? surely, delhi alone had no power over me. the landing came far too quickly and the assault began with the blast of moist heat as the plane's door swung open. this wasn't merely another city in india. this was delhi, the city of djinns, but no genie called me here. no, i was called by a soul that drifted in and out of my thoughts and dreams, and delhi was merely a stop along the way.

that soul, in the end, became my own. this "other" soul, this magnificent mirror, this angel, this djinn, this friend forever merely helped to show me the way...home. no longer spellbound, i was suddenly quite clear about what needed to be done. a tuk tuk ride to connaught place, a coffee (at last), and off to the airlines office. in three minutes, i had a flight home the next day.

apparently, winter is now settling in back in leh. some day when i return, the banana pancakes will taste a little bit sweeter, the thukpa just a little more spicy, while the sound of "ju-le" will resonate far deeper into my heart.

in through the out door

looking west down the shyok valley...the town of diskit is lurking in the trees below while the town of hundar lies in the dark cluster in the distance. at the western edge of hundar lies the end of the road for foreigners, beyond which hides the karakoram mountains and the pakistan border.

today, the warmth of the sun is diminished and the blowing clouds bring a new dimension to the landscape. late october heralds the end of the tourist season here, and the inevitable exodus begins. fresh snow has been piling up on the mountains for a few days and the non-natives are restless.

under gloomy skies, i overhear a group from france pondering the choices...is it travel to manali?  well, this would be via a cramped taxi with questionable tires...negotiating a brutal road over a high pass, likely covered in snow and ice!  or is it the expensive flight to delhi?  perhaps, but it could be delayed for days if the weather keeps up.  the israelis have left weeks ago for manali, mcleod ganj and on to the beaches of goa. the north americans (and a smattering of scandinavians and other various northern europeans) appear to have more endurance and are staying on, but the reality is that many of them are here for purposes beyond simple pleasure or recreation.  some may be working on their master's degrees or doctorates, others are engaged in humanitarian projects or working with NGOs.

they stay because they need to. i stay because the energy here is healing...to hell with the weather.  yes, my toes are cold as i stubbornly slip my naked feet into my flip flops en route to the main bazar, but the lure of warm weather to the south is temporary. i know the heat will still be present in the southern states for many weeks and months to come. there is still much to explore here in ladakh.

a few days ago, an australian couple (two of the last of the aussies and kiwis to linger in ladakh) accompanied me on a trip over one of the highest motorable passes in the world, with an eye to visiting the nubra and shyok valleys to the north.  these valleys are within the "inner line" area...permits required for the foreign traveler. the single-lane, rocky road snakes its way up the high mountain slopes.  switchback follows switchback.

along the way, we pass a group of road workers as they repair the potholes with hand tools.  unlike back home, there is no support vehicle, no machinery, just a group of men and women with shovels and picks and brooms...oh yes, and the necessary implements to make tea.

we have hired a taxi to shuttle us to our destination. our taxi is a newer and nicer number than the typical toyota "qualis" or the suzuki "omni" mini-vans that run about the land.  the morning rush to get over the pass is undertaken by military convoys, commercial trucks, local buses and the tourist taxis.  the smaller and more nimble vehicles soon catch up to the ornate yet sluggish trucks...lumbering along on the slow, uphill journey to the pass.  overtaking another vehicle on this twisting, narrow and crumbling road is both breathtaking and hair-raising.

the game goes something like this: after a long session of horn blowing by the "passer", the "passee" pulls to one side - a reluctant and slight shift of a meter at best.  if the "passee" is a truck, you can guarantee that they will not slow down at all while they provide room for you to pass.  the "passer" now has the daunting invitation to squeeze by with little to spare on either side and must accomplish the task in a very short distance.  typical passing opportunities - comprising of a marginal and brief widening of the road - measure around six car-lengths...not a lot of space to accelerate and get passed a moving vehicle.

several times, our driver skillfully - or luckily - squeaked past hulking, belching road warriors that make up the commercial vehicles of india...sometimes with only centimeters to spare.  as we near the pass, we come to the south pullu, the military and police checkpoint where permits and passports are perused.  the "inner line" or protected areas are near sensitive and disputed borders with pakistan and china, therefore no lone foreigners (who might be spies) are allowed to venture into these hinterlands.  instead, foreigners are only allowed to travel in groups of four or more.  the government's expectation is that groups will register for permits through a local travel agent who in turn will obtain the permits from the government tourism office.  apparently, this will allow the government to keep tabs on us in the protected areas.

this is india, however, so the bureacratic machine - although enveloped in red tape - is riddled with loop holes.  a single foreigner can apply for a permit with almost any trekking agency.  the three missing people and their passports are miraculously produced and the permit is secured.  how?  just ask around at your guest house if anyone minds having their names on the permit - no need to actually go on the trip, just a photocopy of your passport, please!  no takers?  no problem.  simply use the passport photocopies from the last group that came through and add their names to the list.  they'll never know!

but wait, you say...what about the checkpoints?  how does one person pass through if the requirement is four?  no sweat.  only the permit needs to be complete with four or more people; the actual number of travelers is moot.

as an example, our scenario unfolded as follows: the aussie couple obtained a permit through a trekking agent in the main bazar.  although only two people, they managed a permit for four.  i arranged for a permit through my guest house, and was given a permit listing six people.  in one taxi, we arrive at the checkpoint with two permits for ten people yet only three on board!  we wait in the car while the taxi driver takes the permits to some officer inside the checkpoint's office.  the soldiers at street level don't ask any questions, and the officer who views the permit never actually sees us.

allowed through the south pullu, it's onwards over the desolate pass, down the north side and to the north pullu (at an altitude of 16,000 feet).  here, hundreds of soldiers wander - apparently aimlessly - around the ramshackle collection of temporary and beaten buildings, surrounded by massive military trucks and tiny tea stalls.  all the soldiers are wrapped in white, army-issue down jackets and white scarpa plastic mountaineering boots...dark-skinned men dressed in white in a stark, grey landscape.

then, the long descent to the vast and sandy shyok valley...

 the gonpa in diskit



for your visual pleasure...

ladakh has cast a spell. exploring the dusty corners and edges of leh has been wonderous. i have cast off my commitments to the south...meaning i have cancelled my classes in kerala...and i open myself to the messages brought to me upon the windhorse. stay tuned for another post on that decision.

in the meantime, i have finally figured out how to post my own pictures on this blog. all previous posts contain images i have found on the web. please enjoy these simple attempts at photography...click on images to enlarge.

ruins of pre-buddhist tisseru stupa in foreground, leh town behind stupa, the indus river carving out its course behind leh, and the village of stok on the far side of the indus valley at the foothills of the stok range

victory fort and gompa above leh

my prayer flags...looking down on sankar, upper leh

afternoon light on leh..from shanti stupa. the sandy, inclined "field" in the centre of the photo is the world's highest...wait for it...golf course.

looking south towards the stok range...steps leading to stok palace

clear sailing

the waiting is over.  the flags are now flying on a craggy ridge top high over the shanti stupa overlooking the town of leh. it took some work; besides the long, sweaty and breathless hike up the loose gravel gullies to gain the ridge, i had to fashion suitable mounting points for the flags in what proved to be a fairly precarious setting.

predicting the need for some rudimentary rigging materials, i kept a keen eye to the ground as i walked the roads and trails towards the hills.  stuffing small pieces of wire of various gauges into my pockets and pack proved useful.  together with some pieces of telephone cable and frayed string i had found the day before, i felt reasonably confident i would be able to fashion some secure mounts for the flags.  after some serious scree scrambling and once on the ridge top, i climbed up to the highest point.  here, others had hoisted their flags using long sticks that they must have carried from the valley bottom. the sticks were jammed into cracks in the bedrock and buttressed with piles of loose rocks.

the present tangle of others' flags had been hammered hard by the weather, so i was determined to build as durable a mounting system as i could in such conditions.  space was at a premium, and the only viable location was along a teetering series of loose spires that dropped downward as a narrow spine from the high point.  slipping off in any direction would have likely resulted in broken limbs, at least.  i found a couple of weathered sticks that had long since lost their moorings and their flags, so i took a risk that the gods wouldn't mind if i used them.

warily, i worked my way over and around the spires.  for those of you familiar with the loose and grainy quality of some of the rock in joshua tree, you know what i was dealing with.  every hold was dubious...either covered in pea sized gravel, crumbling to pieces under the slightest pressure, or teetering and creaking from its base.  i managed to jam the longer of the two sticks into a suitable crack in the last and lowest spire.  i pulled out my collection of string and wire and lashed the smaller stick to the larger, making a decent flag pole.  slowly, i worked my way back and forth along the spires; each trip involved finding head-sized rocks back on the ridge top and carrying them carefully down to the sticks.  finally, i had built a reasonable cairn around the base of the sticks to provide extra support against the coming winter weather.

the flags are now flying high and carrying my prayers to wind. the blessing of these flags was handled by a collection of monks at the residence of the local ringpoche.  i had been holding out for the ringpoche to do the deed, but he was never around when i visited.

call it coincidence or simply my mind's own wanting, but i do feel much lighter now that the oracle's instruction to me has been fulfilled.  for the past week, i have been feeling restless...partly homesickness and partly confusion as to whether to stay longer in ladakh.  the homesickness i knew would come, and the comings and goings of other travellers has added to this sense.  this feeling has abated...for now.

whether to stay longer in ladakh (versus travel to other parts of india) is a question that comes up most days.  there is so much to india and the options are nearly endless, yet the thought of packing up and moving around does not appeal to me right now.  i enjoy the friendly ladakhis with whom i share my daily bread and there is so much more to learn and do here.  the tourist season has pretty much ended, so it is wonderful to experience the area without the presence of so many other foreigners.  tripping off to dharamsala or goa or varanasi or any other location on the ticklist just feels like...i don't know...so predictable!  who knows, i may yet pull up stakes and shuffle off to the coast of karnataka and find somewhere a little less...consumed.  for now, i will continue to hang my toque in ladakh.

leh away

it's finally over; all the sitting and waiting and sitting some more. i could really care less if i were to never sit in an airplane again, however, the days of cramped quarters and upright positioning were well worth it to arrive here, in ladakh.

ladakh...the name alone has held me spellbound for years. you'd never know it is one of the more remote inhabited places on this planet, what with daily jets from delhi, helicopters flying overhead, belching diesel trucks, buses, rattling scooters and motorcyles. this is india, after all...complete with sacred cows, packs of ratty dogs, battered donkeys and more.

and, yet, a short walk out of the main market and into the rural farming areas and the peace and spriritual energy is abundant. the buddhist influence is everywhere...stupas, gompas, prayer wheels, monks and nuns strolling the streets.



i have been here a few days now, slowly acclimatizing to the thin air at 3,500 metres, the thick fumes in the market place, and the constant, happy greeting of "julay." i am staying in a guest house away from the sights and sounds of the busy centre. so far, my daily routine has been as follows: after a breakfast of banana pancakes, ladakhi bread with butter and apricot jam, and a thermos full of chai, i walk through the narrow streets to the main village. finding a bakery is essential; getting a piece of lemon cake or a chocolate croissant to go with the requisite chai top up is part of the daily plan. dinner is usually with the other guests back in my current home, then an early sleep to get enough rest to do it again the next day.

i could fill in the gaps of all the little details and moments of splendour, yet i am unable to express these small miracles in words at the moment. i do want to share one story...today, i visited an oracle. she told me that i have had good karma due to my past lives, that i will continue to be happy, that my path is to maintain having faith in the spiritual aspects of my life, and that travel is very good for me! i was instructed to purchase a prayer flag, visit with a local monk who will say a prayer in my name, then take this flag to a mountain top. i am excited to follow through with these instructions!

i plan on renting a royal enfield (500 c.c single cylinder motorcyle) for a day or two to visit the other villages and gompas in the area. stay tuned, dear friends.

jet scream

i can hardly keep my eyes open. if i lay down somewhere, i'm afraid my lights will go out and i'll miss my connecting flight. i have been awake for nearly 24 hours and more than half of those hours have been spent sitting still in a flying sardine can. i'm numb; my brain is fried. i am already thinking about coming home in a different style...maybe break up the flights with stop-overs and relaxation.

the place is hong kong international airport, but it may as well be the moon. as a matter of fact, it looks a lot like a futuristic lunar transfer station. it is absolutely massive, and the best part is the internet is free!


i'm eye-balling some chaise lounge-type chairs across the way. there are only a few, so i'll be lucky to get one. otherwise, i will slump into a rock hard chair somewhere nearby and drift...drift into that dazed half sleep that cannot satisfy. i am very much looking forward to landing in leh sometime tomorrow. sleeping for days is first on my agenda. and then, all travel will be trains! enough sardine cans for a while.

winding up and winding down...

the last few days before departure and i am winding up and winding down.  i suppose i might have expected both. i did see it coming. actually, now that i think of it i predicted it...so it just had to happen boths ways.

last night, a "going away" gathering of friends and family brought a heightened awareness of impending departure while this afternoon brought the feeling of having already arrived as the sun set on a lazy day at wreck beach.




i am happy. the days unfold with ease. being away from squamish, i am already traveling without leaving the country; vancouver has its own chaos. taking baby steps, i practice for my adventures in the chaos that is india!
a few more days of last minute organizing and quiet moments with friends...i feel blessed.