Ladakh

I just got back from the gym, and I'm in a mood I don't remember having ever experienced. The day was ordinary for sure. I think what triggered these emotions was the events surrounding my trip to the market a moment ago. I was thinking about "Chotu", the 10yr old maintenance man at my "flat". I recently found out that he lives/works here for about 1000 Rs (approx $20 USD) a month or so, a good salary, or at least not bad. His father is a cycle rickshaw driver, which means he lives in a tent at best and is probably lucky to make 50Rs a day, he therefore cannot afford to raise his own son. Chotu works harder and may be the most resourceful 10yr old I've ever seen. He's repaired everything from the swamp cooler and ceiling fan to electrical work. He'll still most likely end up being a virtual slave for this landlord, for life. Currently I'm standing on the balcony people watching. My mood is exasperated by the looming Sanskrit midterm in 2 days. I'm strait nauseated with the knowledge that I stand a very good chance of bombing this thing. Today I wanted to quit.

The Ladakh trip was amazing, no surprise there. The day before we left a monkey broke into our apartment and stole Will's peanuts. It was funny as hell. Everybody thought it would have been even funnier if he had stolen my espresso machine. Ladakh, as the pics show, is as barren as a place can get. We started the trip off by going to Pangong Tso. It's a mountain lake at 14,500 feet. Everything on this trip is at extreme heights. We thought the lake was beautiful, but were in for some surprises yet.

Our next trip was two days in Nubra Valley, via Khardung La, the highest motorable pass in the world or something (17,800 feet if I remember correctly) which until the mid 90's was off limits to tourists (Ladakh is located inside the notorious state of Kashmir and so travel necessitates a permit or is pretty much not allowed). The Nubra Valley ended up being my favorite part of the trip, aside from returning home to Delhi. I think that these photos do even worse a job of showing the real thing than my pics of Yamanotri. The river was grey do to the minerals or whatever. I'm no geologist. It was huge. Probably a mile wide in some spots. There were sand dunes, grey ones and yellow ones. There were ponds in sand dunes. It was amazing. Here's this massive river bed at well over 10K feet elevation. The Himalayas could never be overstated.

In Nubra Valley we stayed in a guest house not far from this Buddhist monastery. There were even baby Buddhists complete with robes and everything, which I thought was interesting. Another trip involved a hike in the Zanskar mountain range. It was pure hell.

Tso Moriri, at 15K feet, was absolutely breathtaking. To get there our driver falsified some documents and claimed we were doing scientific research when confronted at the military check points. You do what you gotta do. The smaller lake on the way up was unbelievable. The pics show what are probably about as close to wild horses and yak as you can get. There were no fences and no people anywhere. The contrasts in this area were forever surreal. The color of the lake, the sand colored mountains, and the snowcapped peaks behind, with the clear blue sky. It was silent. The village we visited was often frequented by nomadic people and was pretty much functioning the way it had been for hundreds, maybe a thousand years.

Tourism is new to this area and it showed. We had to sleep in a tent, and there wasn't anything luxurious about the food either. Noodles and more noodles. And don't get me started on the toilet. Life in Kashmir in general is hard. Delhi is supposedly the 4th most polluted city in the world. This is probably because Ladakh isn't classified a city. The air up there was so dry and so full of dirt that I fought with bloody and muddy "crusties" the whole time.

Returning to Delhi was when the scale and barrenness of Ladakh really sunk in. Delhi looked so green, and so clean. It didn't even hurt to breath. Ladakh doesn't look like India. The people are distinctly Asian though their dress is more of a hybrid Chinese/Punjabi. They speak a different language, of course (everyone does here) and they use a different script. Delhi is what everyone considers to be India, filthy in a different way, colorful and absolutely chaotic. If Ladakh had me wishing I was back in the states already, Delhi reconfirmed my decision to stay a year. It was good to be back. The balcony here at home provides a wonderful opportunity to witness it all. We have no yard, families live stacked three high and side by side. There's always someone out. On the surface it's the filthiest most beautiful place imaginable, but underneath it's absolutely hideous. The other day a woman in Pakistan married one of her 4 abductors, most likely because she would be otherwise ostracized from her home and community and left to fend for herself in a world that would deem her "polluting" and furthermore provides no support for anyone in need. Delhi has been called the rape capital of the world (In today's paper the 3rd assault in 8 days was reported and confirmed). Cops routinely beat people without fear of reprimand (one of our first sights was a cop backhanding a rickshaw driver for stopping curbside to negotiate with us). Unsanitary, inhumane, life in Delhi is hard in a different way.

When I started this letter I had just returned from the market. While I was there I picked up a candy bar for Chotu. He was on my mind because I had been joking with him on my way out and thinking about my new knowledge regarding his destiny (though you can only joke around so much when there's a language barrier). Later, as I finished my dinner on the balcony, I glanced over the rail and saw Chotu standing in the corner out front with his head buried in his arm. He hit the wall with his fist. I was speculating as to what could be the problem because he always looks so happy. Then he looked up and when he busted me he smiled. I forced a smile back in return. Then I cried. Being privileged isn't necessarily easy.