Intermediary Catharsis

”Yes we can.” -Sen. Barack Obama

That last post was nearly 5 months ago. Wow. Well, I don’t really have much to say, but I figured I should tie up this loose end true to my procrastinating form, so the blog doesn’t jump into some confusing land when next I alight. And I wanted to do Sikkim justice. It was a truly beautiful place, the first stopover being in the earlier mentioned “ghost town” of Ralang. Very remote. Not really the kind of place you could fill up more than a day or two, but somehow we managed to. We first tried walking to a “nearby” gompa, but this promised to suck the remaining daylight hours out from under us, and we eventually hailed a cab. At the monastery, we found young monks playing cricket–one of them with the keys–who let us in and showed us the colorfully intricate butter sculptures Tibeten monks are renowned for. Tasty. Kidding. Eventually we decide to forge on to Yuksom, the most mountainous region of Sikkim. There are not enough jeeps headed that direction that day, so we are forced to ride in VERY close quarters with a group going up and around the mountains. Think: contortionist–wedged in the back of a small jeep one buttock cheek placed uncomfortably on the knee of a displeased stranger, the other jabbed by the handle of someone’s bag of something sharp. Evert tells me not to be a hero, but I am the smallest. Small people have to be heroic. At least there were no cows.

We walk around Yuksom a bit the night we arrive, and meet an American couple who’ve been traveling around for years and have a lot of good stories to share over the local drink, Tongba. (fermented millet served in bamboo container. Strong) Back at the hotel, Evert takes his shoe off to discover a large amount of blood, though apparently without injury. Wasn’t until hiking the next day and the discovery of still more blood and something–eek–writhing in his shoe that we realized we’d had our first encounter with leeches. The whole trail we were on was covered in them, the wait on the trail, drop from the trees, you must be constantly vigilant. Not cool, leeches.On the way out of Yuksom we share a vehicle with a young girl to whom Evert offers a cookie out of our just opened package. ”Thank you,” she says, and takes the package and exits the vehicle.

At this point, there are only two days left to my flight out of Delhi and Evert’s from Mumbai. I was going to take the fancy train for once to get back to that terrible city, but being of limited resources, I normal-trained it to Calcutta and caught a plane from there. This not without incident, of course. Wallet stolen, I had to book the Calcutta-Delhi ticket on Evert’s card. When I arrived at the airport, they notified me that my seat had been canceled, because the seat wasn’t purchased under my name. Wallet stolen, I had what was nearly exactly enough to buy a new ticket. Blessedly, I had less than 24 hours in Delhi, so I was able to get by and even eat! I left India with 10 rupees in my pocket. About the equivalent of a quarter.

New York has been kind and malicious in equal measure since my return. Writing this is like going back in a time machine to something that really feels like yesterday. Somehow, I have managed to miss India. I do not know how. I’ve had the pleasure of seeing several of the people I met along the way already. Amme stopped by on her way home and I found a 1 buck Greyhound offer to Toronto to spend a week relaxin with Eric from Dharamsala. And Evert’s coming friday.

Next stop? Probably Morocco to see Dom, though I doubt I’ll get there till next spring, lease/school/funds permitting. (I signed a lease, I am in school, I have no funds). Let’s hope that pans out. In the meantime, I’m trying to apply for a medical study of jet-lag with an all-expense paid trip to Paris for something to treat my itchy feet. And of course beyond that I’m traveling here; navigating the the waters, new opportunities and other weak metaphors that constitute this crazy adventure called life. Until then…Cheers.

Go Obama.