Getting Cynical

India is not a fun place. It’s just not. Not when you’re sober at least.
But it’s interesting, yes, it sucks you up in its experience, you cannot hide from its strong reality.

India will rub itself in your face, you won’t have to do anything. It will come to you and twist your mind inside out, awaken the madness in you.

The country is not really describable, yet it’s fun to try. But there’s no actual way of grasping all this madness into the right words. One would need a library, rather than a book even.

Even though I’m here for like, a day or ten, I’m overwhelmed, have gone through some crazy emotions and thoughts, and have longed to escape this place for many times. About 10 days in India, one could probably spit out more stories than from a month in the average country.

I already mentioned my arrival in the country in the previous writing, and it was a nice warmup dip in the water before the ocean that India is before me.

The train from Gorakhpur to holy city Varanasi , was rather comfortable. A 6 hour escape from the heat in the AC wagon allowed me to get a bit of heavily desired sleep. And it was way more clean in this train than in the hotel.
The train however, left 20 minutes too late and magically arrived in Varanasi almost 3 hours too late.
So it was night, I didn’t have a place booked, and didn’t have that much choice but going with the hassling tuk tuk driver who spoke some English. At least I got the price of the ride down to one third of his proposal, and he did bring me to a nice, clean room, just within my budget.

So, I’m in Varanasi… The next day I went to the Ganga river to check what the hype was all about, and I must say it was quite impressive.
The river was just huge, and there was a very nice view on the magnitude of Varanasi City.
You could nicely walk on the stairs on the west bank of the river, which would have been flooded if the mousson wasn’t delayed like it was.
The river had some sort of rest on it, a calmness. However, the sides of it, as well as every piece of ground surface in the city, was filled or soon to be filled with trash.

The filth
The filth in this city, as well as in India in general, was literally breathlessly disgusting.
Not only did garbage bins seem to be exclusively placed at 2 or 3 carefully chosen buildings in the whole hundreds of thousands of people city, they were even then unused. Some poor low caste people once in a while went to collect city trash and move it to somewhere else. To no avail of course. The most effective way is occasionally burning all that trash and plastic, easy…

Aside from the trash, the holy cows obviously lay holy shits everywhere, and since the most comfortable footwear for a multitude of reasons are flip flop slippers, you’d better mind your step and lower your care.

They barely smoke, Indian people. Not that cigarette buds on the floor would matter at this stage, something one could call camouflage, but they have these small packages of tobacco of some sort -I think that’s what it is- and rub it over the gum in their mouth.
The times that I’ve been disgusted by the mouthful of black stuff all over their teeth, my questions being ignored because they are sucking on that stuff, my persistence followed by ununderstandable rambling, is just uncountable.
They also have a similar, but different thing called ‘paan’, some white goo in a green leaf that you put in your mouth for a while so that you can only look disgusting and rude for the next couple of minutes, and degrade yourself to making your black teeth visible while trying to ramble some vowels instead of speaking. But that appears to be just the way of their language.
Everyone chews this stuff and spits it on the floor after use. All of this has disgusted me more than the cow poo everywhere.

In Varanasi there was of course the holy burning of the dead, where they performed a tremendously long list of the weirdest of rituals, from shaving the son’s head and body, to having to buy certain ingredients for specific reasons, to running this number of circles around the dead body, having it burn for this long, etc, the list goes on.
And the weirdest of all to me, is that they were burning them in the midst of these trash fields… just normal and fine.

I jokingly talked to a traveler about how people from India ‘auto-photoshop’ all the trash out of their visual perception, and just are immune to being surrounded by it. Well, it’s actually quite sad.

The next step of filth describing will be the next sensory field: smell.
It’s disgusting. I never thought that only having severe and overwhelming poo smells at railway stations and near festival toilet zones was a privilege. It is.
I long badly to a place where it does not smell like feces or urine every 2 to 3 minutes. They’re not fooling me that all the incense is for religious purposes.

The people
The people are strange. And there are way too many of them, cramped into this place. I’m done with constantly being bumped into with no pardon, hearing the spit and throat slime uplifting noises all around, seeing people urinate everywhere -in the midst of a mass of people-, seeing those black, rotting teeth, being hassled and followed, dodging spit, being shouted in my ear, listening to their incoherent randomly shouted English words, having noise everywhere around all the time,  listening to the unstoppable honking, almost dying in traffic every day, fearing getting robbed and so being mindful of my stuff all the time, getting ‘hey, friend’ shouted at me, and much more.
Aside of the ‘people’ topic, I’m a bit done with it now. This first travel has been going on for a while, I can’t seem to get a decent rest, am tired, frustrated, longing for home.
I’m getting cynical.
The great of India, sure I’ll talk about it, but later. It surely is there, most definitely.
But right now I feel drained from this traveling and India in general. It’s been exhaustingly intense.
And so I’m now really longing to home, and will try to book a flight ticket. I’ll probably stop by my friend who I’ve spent the first month in Nepal with.

Yeah, I’m so tired and drained. I long to be able to walk around with a smile and being naturally friendly to people. Here, it’s a punishment of being hassled, ripped off, slowed down, annoyed, questioned, suggested and bothered all the time.
I long for clean streets, which don’t smell so awful, and a good night of rest.

It’s been nice though. Although I feel really cynical and slightly frustrated right now, and more as the time goes on, this was an unforgettable, crazy, intense, mind shifting experience.
I’ll stop this writing on the train right now, will continue later.

The good I found
Of course, there are many things good about India.
After all, the country exists and keeps going since probably the earliest of man kind.

Even though now I’m getting cynical, frustrated, tired and am very low on energy, I have loved the trip here nonetheless. It has been an amazing experience, one I shall not forget.
Even though today I booked my ticket home for in a few days, which means my Indian experience will only have lasted for just over 20 days, it might just as well have been 20 weeks. The things I’ve seen, experienced, thought, and felt here, are just massive.

At one point, I was sitting at the Ganga river in Varanasi, and miraculously I did not get hassled, I didn’t hear ‘Boat? You want boat? Boat, sir? Hey friend, boat? Boat? Cheap price, boat?’ in a 360 degree angle around me, I didn’t get people with handicraft following me, come sitting next to me, etc.
I was just sitting at the river, and miraculously was left alone. And that’s when I did think, that the river had ‘something’ special.
There was a strange kind of emptiness in the air, that became a part of me.
As I sat, the silence became bigger, and the waves that joyously reflected the sunlight individually but harmoniously together, the sounds of drips that worked together into a concerto of water floating by wind, all added up to that silence. Yes, a silent, empty sound.
It might sound kind of silly, but the ‘holy river’ might have something to it, at least I had a nice experience there.
It was a shame that it was so hard to just silently sit there. Even though it was low tourist season, the Indian culture is so that if you interest them the slightest bit, they will come to you and start talking. And sometimes it’s really hard to make it clear that you want to be left alone.

A similar experience I felt, visiting the Taj Mahal.
I’m all not sure how much is imagination or hype from my own mind, but this building really was special. First, the greatness of it, the hugeness. It’s seriously overwhelming.
And then there’s a weird thing hanging in the air again, something that seemed to emit from this place.
Again, it was hard to be left alone and silently sit.
The night before visiting the Taj Mahal, I got awakened by the feeling of water in my ear. After being a bit weirded out, dizzy from being interrupted in my sleep, I shaked my head a bit, and massaged around my ear. The ‘water’ didn’t really seem to come out. I kept shaking and rubbing and suddenly a huge, monstrous insect, with wings and claws and antenna, fell out of my ear… This more than 2cm long and half a cm thick insect, had crawled into the depths of my left ear, in the midst of my sleep.
I was shouting and freaking out and panicking, all the stuff, obviously. It’s creepy movie material. I didn’t dare to go back to sleep, but did so after unfolding the mosquito net and wrapping my head in a t-shirt, even though it was so hot that night.
So after I did manage to fall asleep, I just woke up a few hours later at 3am again.. And decided to stay awake. I went for a walk, found some tea a hour and a half later, and made my way to the Taj.
There, it appeared I had to weight for this ticket counter system to open up at 5.30am, after which I could collect a bottle of water and shoe covers, included in the furious and merciless price of 750 rupees. It was 20 rupees for Indian people. I could not care less to receive my shoe covers, but the gates were not open, ever after I could receive my ticket.
The huge walls surrounding the place made me unable to see anything of the Taj at this point.

My beautiful sunrise plan started falling apart, as I saw the fireball coming up above the walls, after waiting for 3 hours at that place, and the gates started opening. But first, they had to do ‘something’ and we (already more people started arriving) had to wait a bit more. Then, I had to go through a metal detector like on the airport, and get my bags through this see-through device or whatever it is. One of the ladies in the security team still had to open it, and look through it, and she got distracted by some other event, which made me needlessly waiting even more.
I got quite agitated there, as this is just how India works…

But I could, after what seemed to be like a tv-show like eternal annoyance test, enter the place, and go have a look at the Taj Mahal. Not alone anymore, obviously, crowds of people were present already. Well a small croud, but a croud nonetheless.

As  I closed in on the building, this same sort of silence overcame me.  Together with the overwhelming magnitude, my being shook in awe of this beautiful building, silently gazed at the magnificence of it. The intentions and greatness, the respect and love that made this building happen, were clearly visible, and sensible even.

So India might be a special place after all.. If you’re open to it, I guess.
Still I have regretted to see the same emptiness in rituals as in Christianity earlier in my life. Repeating processes from someone else with no understanding or purpose, no actual benefit or even knowledge of why, repeating them every day…

Also the train system is pretty impressive. That on a side note.

So for me now, it’s been enough, it’s been nice.
All the experiences and mind confrontations, all the things I’ve seen and now carry within me. All the changes I’ve gone through, subtly  and slowly, sometimes more sharply. This perspective of the world is one that will stay. This perspective of myself and my home country is one that will stay.

Although the world keeps changing, and every human being is the same in the ground, this continent is so different. Extremities exist next to each other and make the whole complete. One is not without another..
The only problem is, that people don’t see their similarity, that all the differences are just on the surface. That even though we look to be completely different, and so alienated from each other, the lifestyles, the nature around us, the houses we live in, the personalities we have, the cultural different ways, the awareness on all different levels, the education we have available, the richness or poverty present, the way we see the world, are all so extremely different, it is just the surface. And it is sad that the same source where it all comes from is denied and misunderstood.

This travel was quite the education, straight from reality, passive education at its best. I did nothing special, and gained so much deep rooted knowledge. Seeing.

So although it’s not finished, in my head things are rounding out. This chapter of my life is nearing completion.
Things keep flowing and life never stops being, so gone through this, it is only a question what tomorrow will look like. Or what this moment looks like.

It is with great gratitude for being able to experience this travel that I will conclude this chapter.  Nepal, India, you have taught me well, showed unimaginable things, unexpectedly interesting and profound. Things I shall carry with me, that might have been big changers, or maybe just seeds in my mind, that will bloom much later. We’ll see how the next part of my life travel goes, and what it will bring. Thanks.

Posted half from phone and half from internet cafe with keyboard (man, keyboards are great).

Lumbini + Arriving in the madness people tend to call ‘India’

Lumbini was nice. And hot, burning and unbelievably hot.
I never understood why people complain about humidity, after all, water is nice and cool no? I don’t like to have dry eyes, and so I thought some humid, moisty air is nice and refreshing. Boy was I wrong.
Even on the 10 hour lasting bus ride (instead of the  more appealing 7) I started to feel the heat. When we weren’t even halfway there yet…
I felt how in every breath, there was less air than there should be, actually it was even worse than on the high mountain altitudes. And so I got welcomed by nature to hot climate for the first time.

It was insane, as I just sat in a chair, the sweat was pouring off my body, non stop.. The whole day, no break, sweating like a pig. And the whole point about the bad of humidity is, my sweat didn’t evaporate like it’s supposed to. Sweating didn’t work! And I could try to tell my body that, it just mercilessly kept going.

I had a really hard time to breathe, and started panicking a bit, not getting enough air with every breath, and knowing there is no escape or place where it’s cool or I could breathe normal, cold air. I just had to try to calm myself and slow down the breathing. I barely slept those first 2 days. I lied down, felt the sweat drops popping everywhere on my body, prickling and tickling annoyingly, felt the lack of oxygen and the warmth of the air, and ran outside in the hopes of some more air, which I didn’t get there. Then I tried to calm down, go back to bed, and repeat that whole process…

Cold showers also didn’t really help, you just became more wet with water that never dries, even towels don’t work. It’s weird and funny.

But enough ranting on the heat and humidity, let’s just say I had a little bit of a bad moment the first 2 days, it was kind of tough.

Lumbini was nice.
The place where Buddha is born, and huge it was!
The first day where I scraped my courage together and left the guest house, daring to get right under that burning sun, I visited the Maya Devi temple. This is the temple where a birth place pillar marker was placed, on the location of what supposedly would be Buddha’s birth.

It was a long walk amongst what felt to be the hugest garden I’ve ever been in my life. The temple had a straight road to it of about 20 minutes of walking, while it also had a ring road around it, which was about 40-50 minutes of walking, that road went across big water ponds surrounding the Maya Devi temple. No bicycles or rikshaws allowed on that road.

Not knowing where I was or where I was supposed to go, I took the same direction I saw 2 buddhist monk guys in orange robes go, what turned out to be the ring road. Very slowly walking in this burning heat, I enjoyed a magnificent greatness of the huge place of grass, flowers, trees and ponds, what I guess had been the palace where Buddha was raised and lived until his early twenties.

After that I turned back to the guest house, for some local Lumbini village walking and resting and sweating intermezzo’s.
The town had a nice atmosphere, which I think was the closeness to India, and the more Indian spirit present in the people, together with a slightly changing culture, but still present Nepali style in the people’s eyes.
The heat slowed everything down, the view was far and flat, with trees and green fields of rice as far as the eye can stretch. The trees reminded of Jesus depictions, the paintings where you saw the guy teaching or sitting.

So that was the main ‘attraction’ right there, the very place where Buddha was born, but it was way bigger than this! Apparently, a lot of countries acknowledge Buddha’s birth, importance and value to human existence, and built tribute temples in the whole, tremendously huge place that actually is the Lumbini complex.

The next day, I recommendedly rented a bike for a 100 rupees, about 60 eurocents, for a whole day, and cycled through that whole complex, visiting a ton of Buddhist temples, in tremendously different styles and architectures, built by countries all over the world. It was a nice experience, and the temples were rather beautiful. Well, most of them, some slightly felt like they ‘had’ to be placed to maybe compete with a rivaling neighbor country.

A slight disappointment I surely had, when I noticed the temples were not really meditation places of silence and rest, but more like tourist attractions to take your picture and get out of there again. It was low tourist season because of the heat, but still there were noisy and in my opinion disrespectful tourists in a few of the places. And the temples mostly had a nicely decorated altar, but just a barren floor that was not really appealing to stay on.

Nonetheless, it was a nice experience, and I returned back to the guest house after the heat became unbearable.

That same day, I took a bus to Bhairawa(ha, sometimes added), which was a one hour drive to the Nepalese city very close to the border.
Arriving there, the city was not that appealing, so I asked a rikshaw driver to get me to Sunauli, which is the city on the Indian side of things.

He brought me, and where I saw the sign of ‘welcome to India’, things kind of changed. Immediately I noticed the honking became more aggressive, longer, persistent, nasty honking, instead of the rather funny ‘meep meep’ Nepal tends to prefer.
Faces were less smiley, people with guns at the border looked bored and serious at the same time, the street got more busy, filth on the street quadrupled.

A guy checked my passport, after which I apparently needed to go back a couple of meters, to get an immigration stamp.
At that office, I had to wait for 10 minutes, to get a form, where I basically had to fill in all the details as I did on my visa registration form.
Filling those in, a guy sat with my passport and form at a computer for 10 or 15 more minutes, scanning and filling in text fields, repeating that process for multiple times.
Then, I got a ‘departure’ stamp on my Nepalese visa, and I could cross the border. The guy had to check my passport again and told me I need a stamp a few meters further.
Arriving there, I needed to fill in all the exact data again
He went to a computer, filling in the data again, leaving me waiting again.

Then I could continue, in the filthy street with aggressive honking that was Sunauli.
Since I disliked this place even more than Bhairawa, I hopped on a bus to Gorakhpur, the place where a train station to Varanasi was, the current goal destination.
I waited 30 or 40 minutes in the bus, until it got completely stuffed with people, standing and pushing, noone smiling, everyone Western style looking at the floor. A few discussions in the ununderstandable Hindi rambling were had between passengers and the money collector guy, some money was re-exchanged, and after what didn’t look like eternity, but definitely a very long time, the loaded, burning hot bus departed from that Sunauli hole. Well, with ‘it departed’ I mean it started honking for 5 more minutes and almost killed a few motorbike drivers, making its way on the road and out of Sunauli.

I was very tired, as I slept only a few hours for the past 2 or 3 nights, and also getting quite hungry. I hadn’t eaten that evening, and it was getting 7 or 8pm. Also, I didn’t buy water because it was pretty expensive compared to Nepal. All  perfect conditions for annoyance and frustration.

The bus ride took about 4 hours, and it was completely dark and like 11.30pm on arrival in Gorakhpur.
The whole place looked like a festival. Carriages with food, shouting people, filth, trash, and cow poop on the floor, people lying between it, dirty restaurants, a ton of traffic, and a horde of people.
As I fell asleep about 30 minutes before arriving, I was really hazy and my contact lenses were dry and annoyed my eyes. Combined with the thirst and hunger, lack of sleep, carrying my heavy backpack, small backpack on the front, guitar in my hand, I now had to find a place to sleep.

I luckily saw many signs of hotels and guest houses, right at the bus stop, as my fear was that like in Nepal, everything would close around 10pm and I wouldn’t be able to find a place tonight.
Maybe fortunately, but maybe unfortunately, the place was more Western, in the sense that it wasn’t oriented purely on tourist people, just on people passing by there, Indian people. All the food and stuff wasn’t seriously overpriced, and there appeared to be more of a standard in regards to prices, less bargaining and being charged 4 times more than a local.

I entered a guest house, had to go up some stairs, and heard the message “Sorry, we’re full”.
Ok, I’ll try the next one. Same story.
Next one, ‘full’.
Next one, same.
The sixth (!) one I tried, had a room available. In retrospect, I think for some reason the earlier five just didn’t want me, for some kind of reason.
So I got a room for 300 Indian rupees, which is alot more expensive than the same amount of Nepalese rupees. It’s close to 4 euro’s. The most I payed for a room in a long while. And it was a filthy room.
The floor was brown, it smelled like poo, the ‘included tv’ was all brown and the buttons were duked in and not working, the sink was brown, the bed sheet was ripped in many places… The worst room I had on this whole travel so far.
The whole town had a feeling of dirtiness, carelessness, bad smells and hastiness to get out of there.
But what to do, it was getting close to midnight… So I took the room, at least it had a fan and some water.

I felt extremely bad, and annoyed, with all the latest occurrences and the place I was in now. I wanted to get out of there, I felt terribly lonely and missed home, and even just a friendly face.
It felt like I was the only non-Indian guy there, and all the Indian people were so dead serious and careless, it felt like Europe. I had sensations of wanting to just sit and cry… And the heat, the burning heat. No-one to talk to, or explain/express what I was experiencing, filth everywhere, no place to silently rest. The sounds of aggressive honking continuously, the unhappy faces all around, all the stories of Indian horror occurrences that people had been telling me for the last 2 months in Nepal. It was terrible.

But I could sleep a little bit, just hoping that I wouldn’t get flees or lice from the dirty bed sheet and room. I did get a very big and nice gecko on my wall, the biggest one I had seen yet.

The next day, I tried to get up really early to catch a train, but I didn’t understand the system very well. There was the train station itself, and a ticket reservation system about 10 minutes walking from the train station. I went there first, only to find out I could just get a ticket in the train station.
It was like 6 ‘o clock in the morning, and already burning hot, a tremendous mass of people, the festival crowded feeling continued.

I entered the train station and saw 7 rows of about 30-40 people… Boards were in Hindi language, no-one seemed to speak English, the ‘tourist information’ booth was empty, … so I decided to just pick the seemingly shortest row and go for it. I waited in the row for about 20 minutes, got pretty annoyed by this guy sporadically touching my back, and the heat, and the emotions in general. I got to the front of the queue, and the guy in the booth barely spoke English, I refused to go away before understanding though, so people behind me got annoyed as well. After a minute or 2 he left the chair to go ask someone something, and he came back to tell me I needed to pick another queue… Really?

So another 20 minutes of waiting in another queue. There was a guy in front of me, who started talking to me, and spoke English. And he was actually quite helpful. Not wanting to sell or gain anything, he just was in the queue himself, and was a student who was genuinely interested in me. He explained me a thing or two, and his friend went to ask for more information about the train I needed.

When I got to the front of the queue, it was too late to take the train to Varanasi, it departed 5 minutes earlier. I could not get a last minute ticket, because they are valid for 3 hours only, and the next Varanasi train was at 4pm, while it was about 7.30am at the time.
I had to come back at around 2pm, to go in the queue again and get my ticket, which would be a mysterious ‘general class’, not the classes I heard of exist, and then I could get on the train the same day.

I don’t remember who gave me the tip or idea, but I went back to the reservation place, and got a ticket for the train the same day, AC class. I needed that AC, I was looking forward so badly to a bit of relief from this continuous heat. How I managed,  I don’t know, I had to queue again multiple times, not as long, to get to someone who spoke a bit of English, made me fill in some train ticket reservation form, had me queue again, had me correct the form, had me queue again… And then said something about a ‘waiting list’ or whatever… But I had a piece of paper in my hand, and paid money for it, so I supposed I was holding my ticket, out of this dump.

But the checkout time in the hotel was 12 ‘o clock at noon, so that means I had to kill 4 hours in this terrible place I didn’t want to be in at all…

And that’s where the universe heard my cries of helplessness. A guy from Chili, South America, had exactly the same problem, and was checking out at 12 ‘o clock, in await for his train 5 hours later, just like me. The first non-Indian guy I saw, that spoke a bit of English. We had lunch together, and he had previously traveled India for 6 months, so he gave me alot of information, confirmed my feelings in the midst of that chaos, confirmed that this place was pretty terrible, and it’s all normal and the way it goes.

Before meeting him though, I did receive a bunch of support after mailing home to a few deer people, they managed to calm me a bit, and get a bit of hearings for my issues and emotional state. That was a big deal and relief, and dampened the intensity of these negative states quite a bit, however they were still quite present.

So I had lunch with this guy, and we sat down in the train station for all the time we needed to kill. It was such a relief that I could drop my attention, just focus on this conversation, and let go of all this tension for a bit.
He guided me quite a bit in the process of finding and getting on the train, and explained me some more things about how it works.

I found out where and when I needed to go, felt so much better and more confident, and continued alone in the crazy mass of people.

People sleeping between the trash, some guy starts urinating on the railways, some other guy is singing Hindi mantras out loud, a guy is drumming on a cooking pan, a guy with one arm is looking at me for money…

This crazy place, this madness,  this filth and business, this way of living… What feels like lawlessness, where the poor literally sleep on the street, passed by by belly business men, where chaos and people as far as the eye can stretch are your normal, everyday way of being, where the nonchalance and carelessness is as Western as back home – this way is just the way it is, where money spins the bottle like anywhere, where something special still is going on, where I wanted to run away from as far as possible, where I start to get used to, and maybe like, this way of madness, this game of bargain and discussion, this clash of wills and personality, this allowance of close to anything, this acceptance of whatever will happen, this street cow poo avoiding game, the ugly, the things you don’t want to see but will see, the things that are the way they are…
The stories come together quite a bit,
I think that, truly I arrived, indubitably so, convinced and unturnaroundably so,  in the crazy, famous and infamous place they usually refer to as ‘India’.

Writting from a computer on an internet cafe, happy reading!

Buddha's Birthplace

Random thoughts in a restless night

Tomorrow I’m taking the bus to Lumbini, the birth place of Siddharta Gautama de Buddha. The Buddha. It’s a city all the way south of Nepal and after checking it all the way out, I’ll make my way across the border, to India.

Yes, my visa got approved. Instead of what I was hoping for, to have taken the bus towards Lumbini yesterday morning after receiving my visa, I had to turn my passport in, to come get it with visa and stamps the next day, today, at 5pm… So 2 extra Kathmandu days. I’ve been walking around in town, eating peanutbutter and banana bread slices, an unbelievably amazing combination, and also supermarket stuff instead of restaurant stuff, my wallet’s gracefulness was unseen.

I had also asked for a multiple entry 6 month visa, what I read online to be the most commonly asked for. Instead, me and apparently everyone getting the visa from Nepal, got a single entry 3 month visa.
Life has a tendency to throw all expectations right back in the face!

Aah, the Lumbini bus leaves at the unfortunately early 7 ‘o clock mark. Which means I’m getting up at 5.30 for a nice and fresh morning walk!
Of course that’s when sleeplessness strikes.
But as I try to just listen to the body, I will not fight the sleeplessness and will just enjoy being awake. Yes, even if the light from my mobile phone attracts all the insects and living crawlers in the vicinity…

I’ve been wondering a bit, how to live the life and what things to strive for. I think the travel like this has always been a deep longing from within, and so I’m really glad I’m following that. On a side note, I think I’d recommend this to anyone. At least, diving into the unknown in some way, it’s great! Yes, very scary, but great. And so educating, straight from yourself, conclusions, deductions, insights and more.

Hmm… I think in whatever situation one is thrown, he’ll find an answer, work with the things one can. And therefor worries need not to be made, as long as one stays truthful to one’s deepest longings and strives towards them.
It’s weird to see how, in a crisis situation, your whole mind, body and system works perfectly together to find a solution. All the right info pops up in the berserking mind, at the right moment, body’s reflexes are sharper than ever seen, suddenly there are just more reflexes, emotions force the wanted state to resolve a goal fixated upon.
It’s weird to see, but nonetheless very nice. And I think we can trust in that system. The more of an emergency the situation is, the sharper and more coherent the human system becomes.
Now all there is to do is to make every waking moment an emergency situation!

Well, these contemplations came after considering some futures. I’m not sure if I belong to the ‘traveler’ category already, but I’ve seen some interesting ones, with interesting life ideas and -styles.
Some just go for years, as in, 5 or more years. Some just do it permanently. Some go for many months or a few years and they will go back home for a while -but where is home anyway?-. Some go back and forth between home and not home, job and traveling.
I wonder what type I’ll turn out to be..

Aah, a slightly longer time than 6 hours before waking time.
The monsoon might have washed away a road or 2, we’ll have to see about that.
And the tourist season should be at the lowest in India. Here, I barely see Western people now. Well, I still see quite a few, but not 80% of the people I see are non-Nepalese. So I wonder how this will correlate with the craziness in India… Probably not much!
I wonder what I’m looking for over there, and what I’ll find.

The next day. I’m currently on the bus as the only passenger, kind of exhausted by lying awake for several more hours, and waking up around 4 ‘o clock at night for no reason at all.
I bought some kind of candy, and definitely got what I asked for when I asked ‘do you have a bit spicy?’. It’s some substance drained in spices. You could just as well lick the spices from a piece of paper, same effect. Only the ‘paper’/candy is edible. It tastes quite allright though, I like it, even though I’m doubting if the ashes of my once burning mouth can still taste anything.

The bus should get going in about 5 minutes, as I hope I’ll be able to stay awake to catch some scenery of the part of Nepal I haven’t seen yet. A nice and hopefully easy 7 to 8 hour bus ride.

It feels kind of nice to have a bus as taxi. It’s pretty big. The bus boy told me though that more will join on the way. Fortunately, as I think it would be a waste to drive 7 hours with a bus with one passenger. And a cancelled bus would be awful, I’ve stayed in this area for more than enough.
I’m really glad that I have the bread and peanutbutter banana fest with me, the food on the way to Pokhara, in the few places where the bus stops, was ridiculously expensive. I’m talking 4000m high up in the mountains rate. Sigh, tourist prices…

A local has been talking to me about how it’s becoming a real problem, where the tourists don’t care how much they pay for stuff lile fruits and vegetables, calculating with home currency, and therefor the fruit and vegetable prices, as well as groceries and clothing, start going up, mercilessly indifferent to the locals!
Vendors sell at twice the rates of the maximum retail price, as locals have a hard time paying this amount, therefor they have to sell higher prices themselves et voila, a spiral.

Now, after just 25 minutes of Kathmandu cruising, the bus is taking a 30 min break, to find more people. Yeah, they probably won’t go if I’m the only passenger.
What’s funny about these buses, is if you get on them from the start, there’s no doubt about where you’re going. The ticket checker or general bus driver boy, hangs out the sometimes existant front door, and shouts the bus destination into every single passenger’s face. ‘Bhairawa Lumbini! Bhairawa Bhairawa, Lumbini Lumbini! Bhairawa! Lumbini!
Any doubts of being on the wrong bus immediately evaporate. It’s a nice way of getting more passengers, and they are on the bus anyway. Works like a charm.

Looks like some people at least are getting on this bus, nice.
I wonder how I’ll do Lumbini, since people told me the many temples there can be multiple kilometers apart. Maybe I’ll try to rent a bicycle.
Content is shortening, fatigue is hitting… I think I’ll conclude this writing that was once a sleeplessness midnight activity.

Yes, I still need to write about my second month, and I will, at some point…
For now, dear Reader, bear with what is soon to be an inchronologicality, but still currently follows the timeline correctly. Prepare yourselves.

New chapters are about to unfold, as is always and for everyone the case.

Ps: the bus got filled all the way, me being the sole non-Nepalese person, awesome.

Posted from my phone, apologies for typing mistakes – Happy reading!