Songjoo's going away party

Our group is now down by two. Songjoo left for Korea on Saturday and Nawaf left today. It was sad to see them go, but neither of them could keep the grins off of their faces. Nawaf has been here for six months and Songjoo for two. They were both ready to go.

We had dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town. So the bill for all seven of us was somewhere in the range of about eighty dollars. That's bahut expensive for India. 

But the food was excellent.

Me, Beamish, and Matthew

Osamu, Songjoo, and Nawaf

After dinner we walked over to this temple thing. It was Gnesh's wedding or something. I'm still not really sure. And I didn't take pictures of the actual ceremony thing because I always feel so intrusive when I do that. I mean, how would I feel if someone walked into the back of my church and started taking pictures? 

But the Christmas lights they had strung up were quite pretty.

Saturday we took Songjoo to the train station and said goodbye.

I love Nawaf's expression here. He's super annoyed we're making him look at the camera.

And my last picture with Songjoo... at least for a couple of weeks. See you soon, friend!

Oh but I forgot to mention, Saturday morning, since Songjoo and other other English students had class, Matthew and I decided to head to an ATM and then a scooter repair place to get the mirror put back on my scooter (and no, I don't know why the previous owner took it off).  So we headed south, but couldn't find the ICIC ATM I thought I'd seen a couple of days ago and instead ended up heading off into the outskirts of Dehradun where we met this little guy.

This is some sort of dry riverbed, or flood plane, or something. But it was cool. I wish you could see the mountains more clearly, but the haze often keeps them obscure.

Clement Town

On the southern end of Dehradun, is a Tibetan colony called Clement Town. It's off of the number 5 vikram, or you can take your scooter (if you have one). Which is what I did. Well, okay, Matthew drove and I rode on the back of the scooter, but still... much faster than the vikram.

There's a monastery and a very large Stupa. In fact, it's called "The World Peace Stupa".

You're not allowed to take pictures inside so you'll have to be content with seeing the outside.
And this sign.



And this sign.



And then there were the tacky touristy shops.

Complete with cafe where you could order a cold coffee "Americano" style. I didn't. I'm always suspicious of any food labeled "American style".

But the Indian and Tibetan barristas were very nice and made me an iced green tea.


You can't really see it, but this sign forbids the eating of peanuts. I don't know why.
Maybe to keep you from feeding this little guy?



We also walked up to this other stupa where His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama came and spoke a few weeks ago.




Matthew, Osamu, and Beamish went. I didn't. Partly because I got to see him when he came to campus two years ago. And as cool as that was, he was speaking English and I barely understood him. He was speaking Tibetan at this appearance so I knew I REALLY wasn't going to understand him. And I've already seen him. And you can't take pictures.


But here's some pictures outside of the stupa. These are prayer wheels. You spin them and the prayer flies out into the universe.



These prayer flags hung outside someone's house in the town area are supposed to serve a similar purpose.

 This is a mural of some place in Tibet. It looks lovely. Makes me want to visit.

These chalk drawings were everywhere. I think they're called Mandalas, and I think the monks draw them.

And of course we had a nice Tibetan lunch. 

Matthew had some sort of vegetarian noodle soup.

I had what can only be described as empanadas stuffed with moma filling. Tasty, but very greasy.

Then we headed back to the hostel before our evening class. Have I mentioned how awesome it is to have a scooter? Because, it's awesome. I feel like I should come up with a better name for it than "the beast". If you think of a better name, leave me a message in the comments section.

Freedom thy name is Bajaj

These are the symbols of my freedom...

Yes, keys to my scooter.

It's a 1998 Bajaj Chetek. It's kind of a beast. It's incredibly heavy. I have a bruise on my thigh where the handle hit me as I was trying to keep it from falling over.

This beauty is from trying to kick start it.

But I did get it started. I'll probably have to get the idle adjusted as I have to continually give it gas when it's in neutral to keep it from dying. 

But it was cheap and it runs. Which means I can go many places without having to explain to someone where I want to go or haggle over the price.

I'm getting better at driving it although at this point, mostly Matthew drives and I ride on the back.

I'll admit, the prospect of driving in afternoon traffic is still slightly terrifying. 

But soon enough, I'll be able to use it to give these puppies a good breaking in.

Remember how my boots broke on that ill fated, leech infested hiking trip? 

Well, here they are with brand new soles. Best six bucks I ever spent.

Trip to Pari Tibba, getting lost, broken boots, and leeches

Yesterday there was a countrywide strike in India. Apparently they raised the price of gas (both petrol and cooking) and the countrywide shutdown was to show the government how unhappy the people were. This meant that we had a day off from school because all of the schools were closed as well. I'm not really sure how those things relate, but here, I guess they do.

So I decided to take a trip up to Mussoorie finally and do some hiking. Unfortunately, no one else was interested in a day hike so it was just me.

The taxi dropped me off at the taxi stand in town and pointed me towards Woodstock school where the Pari Tibba trailhead starts. 

So I walked through the town and along the road. It was a nice view once I left the main town area.

There were true mountain goats.

And a goatherd?

 Apparently this is why the phone service up there is so crappy... they had a heavy snowfall last winter and it literally bent the telephone polls in half.

 About five to ten minutes outside of the town, I started seeing signs for Woodstock school.
Woodstock is an international boarding school for middle to high school aged kids.
They even have a pool...

The guides to get to Pari Tibba are not particularly easy to follow. They said to follow a steep set of stairs and then a ramp just below Woodstock school. There are quite a few different sets of steep stairs below the Woodstock school.

I almost went down this way. But then I figured the directions would have mentioned a big sign that said "St. John's school. So I kept going.

I stopped at a tea stall and bought a soda. I met this lovely Sikh couple who own a restaurant in town. They had the morning off because of the strike. They said this tea stall served the best Maggi noodles (basically Ramen). So I ordered a bowl and shared their company.

After several false starts, I finally found the "steep stairs" all of the guides say to use to get to Pari Tibba (or Witch's Hill). 

In case you're wondering, a little ways past the main gate for Woodstock, there's a wooden sign that says "Woodstock School" with an arrow pointing down some stairs. Once you get to the bottom of the stairs, there's a ramp you have to walk down. At the bottom is a sign that looks like this:

Then there's more ramp. A lot more ramp. All going down hill. I hate hiking downhill on the way to a trail. It just means you're going to have to go back up it when you're already exhausted from hiking.

These are the Ridgwood basketball courts.

After the courts was a guardhouse and the path turned sharply to the left.

I think this a football or cricket field. 

And for some reason, there was a fire surrounded by monkeys but no people.

After I walked a bit further, I came upon the Dhobi valla which is a very small village. It feels like you're walking through people's backyards.

Once through the town, I was faced by another choice, to the right or the left.
I tried the right side first but ended up at someone's house so I backtracked and tried the left.

which turned out to be the correct way. I know because I found the abandoned mine that's supposed to be off on the right side of the trail.

But I didn't go down into it.

I kept walking for a ways until the road became unpaved. Eventually there was a place that looked like it might be what the guides called a "low saddle".
And fortunately it was because when I got close to the top, I found this sign.

I also ran into a couple on their way back down. I asked about the top and they said it was very overgrown and there were leeches.

"hm," I thought to myself, "good thing I have drawstrings on the bottom of my pants." 

(ill fated thoughts)

I kept on until I reached a place that was relatively dry. I sat and read my book until the sun finally came out and burned off much of the fog.

Then I found after a little more exploration, some little alters and prayer flags.

And I headed back towards the starting point.

Which was when I noticed the sole of my right boot was almost completely detached from the bottom of my hiking boot.

According to my dad who had something similar happen to him, most hiking boots that were made around ten years ago have disintegrating soles. Doesn't matter who made them, for some reason they were all using the same material and all of those boots are now coming apart. 

So I pulled the drawstrings from my pants down around the bottom of the shoe to hold the sole in place. Then I kept going.

But I got a little sidetracked. 

See, there was this other trail and it looked interesting and I thought, "why not?"

You know all of those stories about stupid hikers going by themselves into the mountains and getting lost for days? Well, for about a half hour I was pretty worried that was going to be me.

The trail I was following disappeared and I ended up wandering around. When I finally found another trail, it wasn't the same one. But I figured if I was going to be lost, I was going to at least be lost on a trail.

Then I followed the sounds of people until I finally came out on this ridge

And thank you God, I was right above the Dhobi walla.

Of course by that time it was getting late and I knew it would be dark by the time I got back to the taxi stand. I had hoped to visit my new friend's restaurant in town, but I felt bad about keeping the taxi driver waiting so long. 

And back down the mountain we went.

I got back to the hostel exhausted and very dirty.

It wasn't until I started peeling off my filthy and still damp hiking clothes, that I noticed my legs were all bloody. "That's weird," I thought, "I don't have any rips in my pants and I don't think I cut myself on anything."

And then something small black and slimy fell onto my floor and started inching itself away. It was a leech. Actually, I think there were about a dozen of them in my clothes. And then I'm pretty sure I said several dirty words. 

My socks were soaked with blood and there were still two of the little suckers stuck to my legs. 

I guess on the bright side, leeches don't carry diseases the way that other bloodsuckers do and as one friend commented, leeches were supposed to be good for all kinds of illness back in the 18th century. 

So if I had an excess of humor, I would be all set.

But it's still really really really really gross. I lost track of how many of them I killed and clearly they had been feeding for a long time because there was blood EVERYWHERE.

This isn't even all of it but it's the only picture I took.

The worst part of the bites are that they take forever to stop bleeding. And I had a lot of bites. At least 20. I counted.

They still look gross, but they'll heal.

And tomorrow I'll drop off my boots at a shoe repair place and hopefully get them fixed.

So all in all, an interesting day.

I miss Colorado where most of our hikes ended above the treeline and far from any bloodsucking invertebrates.

I was going to go out of town again this weekend but I'm still exhausted from yesterday. I've decided I'm going to stay for my church's jumble sale tomorrow and so that I can spend some time trying to find a used scooter.

hmm, me on a scooter, watch out drivers of India.