Currently
I've been staying in Hampi, India's version of Joshua Tree, where a patchwork of well-manicured rice patties are impregnated with haphazard piles of tan boulders. The rounded rocks contradict their weightiness with balancing acts that seem to defy gravity. In-between, palm trees offer moments of shade relief, while ancient temples rise above the highest frond to offer moments of awe. Here, you feel instantly a part of the community, rather than a spectator, and people go about their lives, seemingly unaffected by your presence.
Before sunrise, I would climb to the top of monkey temple, and get entranced by the hypnotic chimes and chanting while surveying the birth of a new day. Long, golden shadows off the static rock begin to reveal the pinpoints of farmers bustling among the tall grain. Women come down the staircased river embankments and slap their laundry against the stones that peak out of the polluted river, while just down-stream the local elephant gets her daily scrub, before heading back up to the temple.
During the day, I motorbike along the country side, watching each moment as it was meant to be: water buffalo waddling in the muddy river over the watchful eye of a herder, sugar cane being process in open air primitive factories, mud bricks drying in the sun, a new temple shrine parading through a village led by fierce drumming, leaving a trail of flowers, tobacco like betel-nut leaves and splashes of coconut water, wood fires on stone stoves enhancing the flavor of fresh dosa (savory crepe like pancake,) the irony of the ice cream man sweltering in the merciless heat as he heaves all his weight into pushing his cart along to the next village, men sitting cross-legged at chai masala stalls sipping on shots of the staple milky tea, the woman in the red sari (traditional clothing) changing the irrigation from one agricultural terrace to the next, fly-swarmed children rolling an old bike tire with a stick over the trash strewn street, and shamen administering a blessing of incense at mouth of a Hindu temple.
At sunset, I head to a rocky plateau, where travelers toting traditional Indian and African drums meet with western guitars, a Middle Eastern harmonium and an Australian didgeridoo to create a symphony of sounds both amplified and contained by the surrounding walls of eroding rock, filling my lungs with vibrations as if they were breathlessly humming along.
Future
In a few days, I'll board a plane from Mumbai, India to Kathmandu, Nepal, where I'll meet with Amanda. Together with a few friends, we'll trek though the mountains. Afterwards, I will buy a motorcycle in Pokhara, Nepal and drive it back into the high north of India (insha'Allah) for about a month and a half, and maybe give a high-five to some Pakistani refugees along the way.
Photos
Emily and I were so energize by culture and experience of climbing off Tonsai beach, Thailand, that we turned our 3 day stay into a 2.5 week excursion, climbing on all but one, bowel-destroyed day (also known as "Tonsai Tummy"). After saying "we're leaving Tonsai tomorrow...maybe," enough times, we worked our way south into Malaysia, to motorbike around an island in search of hidden watery gems and grand views from mountain tops Finally, we headed to Georgetown, where a thoroughbred community of Malay, Chinese and Indians met at a cross roads, and stayed in China Town, just in time to celebrate Chinese New Year.
MAP: where I've been and where I'm going
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| Travel 2014 - Week 3 - Tonsai, Southern Thailand, Pulau Langkawi, Start Georgetown |
