My 18th Birthday in the Himalayas

On Monday the 12th, we went to Nidhi’s grandmother’s village with Nidhi, her father, her cousin, and of course, her grandmother. The bus ride there was agonizing –hot and incredibly crowded. People were sitting on the engine, standing in the aisles, and even sitting on the roof! (I actually envied them – at least they got the breeze to cool them off) We were stuck together, hot and sweaty (in my case – I never thought I sweated that much, but apparently compared to Indians I do. It’s annoying.) I was sitting down, thank god, but my leg was pressed against the engine, which was scalding. Near the end of the 3 hour ride the man next to me got off, so I was able to sit comfortably next to the window and enjoy the view. And what a view it was!
Mountains and mountains, getting bigger and bigger as we drove on, so that I felt oxygen deprived just by looking at the distance to the valley. It was beautiful, but it would have been more so if the mountains hadn’t been so covered in clouds/haze, I felt like I was missing something.
We got to the village, a small little collection of houses in the middle of the mountains, and met Nidhi’s great-aunts and –uncles and cousins and many other friends and relations. It was so sweet – everyone knew everyone because the village was so small and the houses were so close together, you were never quite sure when you left one family’s quarters and entered another’s, and it didn’t really matter anyway, because people visited so often. Every single family had a little garden where they grew potatoes and garlic and other roots, and a couple cows that lived in a mini-barn below the house. The houses were so cozy, with low slate roofs and wooden interiors, and floorboards that creaked comfortingly, as they do in really old, loved and lived in homes. I can’t describe the warmth that radiated from that house and the people in it, laughing and talking all the time (even though I didn’t understand more than the basic words I’ve learned: so, and, very, ok, good, etc. and those don’t help much in comprehension). Nidhi’s great-grandfather looks so much like my grandfather (except with darker skin) it was scary, every time I saw him I almost cried; I hadn’t realized I missed them so much. And I wanted to talk to him, because I could tell that he had many stories to tell, but I couldn’t. I’ve never hated the language barrier so much.
We slept there, and the next morning (the day before my birthday) we got up dark and early (4:00 am) to hike to a temple on the top of a 12,000 ft. peak. It was around 25 km round trip, but wonderful. We kept passing cowherds with 6-7 cows ambling in front of them, walking along the narrow paths up and down the mountain. I never knew cows could be so agile as to get up those steep rocky paths, but maybe these are special mountain cows and I’m used to spoiled, sedentary Vermont cows. I couldn’t believe that people still lived like this, spending all day on the mountain, following the small herd of cows and then coming home to a tiny house at least a 15-30 minute walk from the nearest road, let alone civilization.
Because we were in the mountains it was cool all day, and the hiking was fairly easy, though long. What I’ll remember most about it is, not the views (though those were amazing) but the encounters we had with the nomads. If I thought cowherd/farmers were behind the times, these people were stone-age – they follow the seasons and spend about 3 months in each camp that consists of a grassy area for the cows to graze and a few crude stone houses with tin roofs for them to live in. It was a surprise to come out of the dark forest to a grassy field, like we’d stepped into a completely different world, one that hadn’t changed for hundreds of years – except for the radio we could hear from one of the houses playing Punjabi pop songs.
The faces of those people! I know now why the National Geographic portrait books always show faces of rural India and Tibet. It’s not just that we Westerners want to see something foreign and exotic, it’s that they have so much character. If I live to be 100 I’ll never be able to fill my face with such down-to-earth reality that these people have. Maybe there’s something about the soft American lifestyle that makes our lives and faces so bland, but if I had a choice between studying the face of a random American and a random Indian nomad, I’d choose the nomad immediately, there’s so much depth there…There was a little girl there with a look in her wide eyes that I can’t describe – one of wonder and understanding and an endurance I can’t believe. Unfortunately my camera chose that moment to die and not accept the kindly offered replacement batteries, so I was left photoless. I’m sorry.
Finally, after a very long journey, we reached the temple at the top of the mountain. We all took off our shoes, washed our feet, and entered the tiny wooden building that had stood there for hundreds of years, on a spot to which people had climbed for millennia. It is believed that it was Lord Shiva’s home at one time, and that a priest once went there thousands of years ago, and went into such a deep state of meditation that his bodily functions slowed to a minimum and he lived for a thousand years, until he finally attained nirvana, and the people built a shrine in his honor.
We rang the four bells at the doorway and stooped to enter the dark room. A priest sat there, and when we had knelt, prayed, and made an offering to the god, he blessed us and painted a bindi on each of our foreheads and then gave us a handful of rice as a symbol of his blessings. Then we went down to a smoky room where they served us rice and watery curry (which we ate with our hands – ick!) and then we headed back.
We timed it perfectly – we arrived at the village right as it got dark, and went to a different house (Nidhi’s grandmother’s other brother’s) to spend the night. When they heard that it was my birthday the next day they insisted that I celebrate it with them, but we said we had to get back – we had plans.  So we made a compromise: We stayed the morning with them, and then went back for the evening. So I woke up to a spectacular view of the Himalayas on my 18th birthday, had a kind of porridge for breakfast that was delicious, and then relaxed for a few hours, gazing at the mountains and enjoying the sun. Then they took us to another temple nearby that had been built 700 years ago with a tree next to it that had been planted the same time. It was huge; the trunk had split into 3 parts and was so wide the five of us probably couldn’t have reached around it. And it towered over the tiny temple where we went to pay our respects.
The bus ride back was much better, fewer people, and we got good seats all the way. Nidhi and I talked and sang and looked out the window, and it was great fun the whole way. When we got back Nidhi and her mom took me out to buy a suit salvar – the traditional dress that everyone here wears. We bought the fabric in a shop with rows and rows of brightly colored cloths, and a salesman who would take out a bolt of fabric and sweep it out onto the cushioned floor to display its full pattern. So many fabrics! Each one hid the ones before it, so I had a hard time remembering what I liked. But I finally chose one, and we brought it to a tailor who delivered it 3 days later, so now I have an Indian dress!
We were going to get my hand henna-ed, but it was raining (it was auspicious, they insisted, and I liked it) so we went to the mehendi man the next day, and now my right hand is covered in beautiful brown curls and it smells fabulous.
We came back home to a small cake waiting for me (not particularly tasty, but hey, it’s the gesture, really.) and, according to tradition, I fed the first piece to everyone –Nidhi’s family and her neighbors – myself. Then we had celebration puri – like chapattis but smaller and puffed up and really, really good. And we watched Bollywood TV (amazingly entertaining, actually) and went to bed. And so now I’m 18, legally an adult, and ready for all sorts of new adventures.
I have pictures that I wanted to add here, but the connection is too slow. I'm really sorry. I'll add them later if I get the chance.