Jai Mata Di! and Other Tales

August 24th, 2012 - Gorakhpur, Uttar Pradesh, India

Hey Everyone!

  It's Marina again!  We switched up email order this time so that I could describe some of the places that Orion has already been to (on his last India trip) and written about.  But he wanted to write SOMETHING (since it is his turn) so we decided to take turns.  Haha.

  So where did we leave off?  Ahhhhhhh yes.  Srinagar!  So Srinagar was awesome as you all know judging by how stoked I was in my last email.  BUT all good things must come to an end, and we had to leave.  The owner of our houseboat, Amin (pronouced Ameeeeen) walked with us on the morning of, negotiated with a guy speaking no English and found us a ride headed to Jammu (directly south of Srinagar.)   Instead of riding it all the way, we had plans to go to Katra, a town famed among Hindus for Vaishno Devi, a giant mountain with a cave and a shrine dedicated to Divine Mother.  The trip was glady uneventful and we hopped off at Katra unscathed.

  Katra is a VERY popular pilgrimage spot for Hindus, but completely off the map for foreigners.  As soon as we arrived, we knew we were the only white people in the whole town.  We set to work finding a cheap hotel, which turned out to be extremely difficult as NOBODY spoke English.  Nobody.  Conversations went mostly like this:
"You have room?"  (Often misunderstood, in which it would be followed by many repetitions and simplifications, often down to only, "ROOOOMMM?????" or charades like acting while saying, "SLEEEEP!")
"Yes. Room."

"How much?"

At this point, the mutual understanding would cease.  

"Yes. Room."

"Yes, but HOW MUCH."
"Room?"
"HOW MANY RUPEES?"
"Come. Have room."

Many times we would simply give up here, or start pulling out our money and waving it at them, or try writing down numbers, or counting on fingers.  However, eventually we managed to find a room!  We passed out from exhaustion hoping to rest up for our epic pilgrimage the next day.

  So!  Vaishno Devi.  What to say.. What to say.. 

  The town of Katra exists completely as a base for the pilgrimage to the top of the mountain.  Thousands and thousands of people are ALWAYS here hiking it and it is always busy, always packed, always full.  We had barely started walking when we were already in the thickest crowd.  There was sort of a frantic, intense, electrifying devotional energy in the air that sort of blasted you with power and came from the zillions of people walking, limping, crawling or dragging themselves up the mountain in devotional fervour for the blessing of Divine Mother. 

  Vaishno Devi has a cave at the top in which, long ago, was discovered three matching rocks in a row.  If this was found in Canada, someone might might have said, "Wow this is cool," taken a photo, maybe told some of their friends or taken them to see the cave, and probably only thought about the rocks having any significance for maybe half a second.  Maybe. 

  BUT.  This is India.  So In India, someone happened to be strolling on top of a mountain, found a cave, found some rocks, and immediately thought of his Divine Mother, and claimed the rocks to be manifestations on the three aspects of Her in natural form:  Kali, Saraswati, and Lakshmi.  Not only that, but after worshipping the rocks and the mountain as Divine Mother, and telling everyone about it, then millions of Hindus would journey to climb to sacred mountain for years and years and years, and then the government would spend millions of dollars blasting the mountain to build a safe path, designing the temple to hold thousands of people and setting up regular security checks for safety (though very half hearted), and hundreds and hundreds of business owners would haul supplies up the mountain to fund their snack shops, ice cream shops, food stalls, etc.  Oh India.

  So if you're imagining a beautiful gorgeous tropical mountain, with a tiny gravel path winding its way up the steep cliffs and valleys, with nothing but the calming sounds of Mother Nature in your head, and meditative peace surrounding you, and clean fresh greenery and air to breath and see and enjoy.........You're wrong.

  Imagine instead a beautiful gorgeous tropical mountain... Covered with a wide-enough-for-a-truck paved path winding its up the steep cliffs and valleys; completely packed with people - rich, poor, healthy, missing limbs, deformed, as young as a newborn baby, and as old as too ancient to be climbing a mountain; a constant din of noise of people, horses, bad music, good music, live drums, kitchens, and even small cars; garbage EVERYWHERE, including thrown off cliffs and down valleys in disgusting reeking heaps, defouling the face of the sacred mountain; monkeys everywhere, often attacking you; sad, malnourished, mistreated horses with limps, slipping all over the wet path, being brutally whipped by their owners, with fat people seated atop them, too lazy to walk up; any so many shops everywhere selling everything and anything you could possibly think you might want; and so much more my overwhelmed senses were probably too occupied to notice.  

  We hiked through the madness for probably 4 hours, including tons of stops of food and ice cream more and more frequently the higher and more tired we got.  The total distance up is 12.5 km.  That is only ONE WAY.  However, when we reached the top, there was no resting.  If you have any dream of ever actually getting to SEE the shrine, you must immediately get in a too-long line up to lock up all your baggage and shoes.  So we did just that.  Of course this is India, so there is no nice single file line.  There is pushing and shoving and a mini battle to claim your place in line.  You must prove your strength and ability by holding your ground to be worthy of a good spot in line.  So prove we did, and we eventually got through.  At the very start of the line, after we'd been waiting for a super long time, a few scumbags were trying to cheat the wait and dodge in ahead.  Not by my watch!  Me, the tiny helpless woman that I'm considered in this country, pushed and shoved those darned men right back until they gave up and tried the guy behind me.  HAH.  

  So finally we were ready to get darshan (divine sighting) of the Mother!  We walked down a very long, narrow, winding hallway with a bunch of other people until we reached the outside of the tunnel.  For a moment we enjoyed the amazing view of the mountains and nature all around us, and then we entered the tunnel!  I think it used to just be a long dark cave like tunnel, but to accommodate the millions of people, they turned it into a marble hallway.  Water dripped through cracks in the roof as we walked and people devotionally cupped the water in their hands and splashed it on the heads, as they would with holy water.  Finally the end!!!  After the miles and hours of hiking, I was surprised to see people getting maybe 3 - 5 seconds to view and pray to the lingams before they were ushered on by the temple workers.  Being white has it benefits however, and when we got to the altar, the pandit gave us a lengthy discourse on the meaning and significance on the shrine, and we maybe had a full minute or two!  We prayed to Divine Mother for blessings, and that was that!  Out we went.  It may seem like a seriously long and vigorous undertaking, for a simple and very very short viewing of 3 small stones, and to people not there, they may wonder if it was worth the effort.  But I am certain that everyone who has completed the pilgrimage with devotion in their hearts has definitely left feeling refreshed, regenerated, and blessed by Spirit.  

  Forgot to mention one thing!  EVERYONE,. the whole way up, and the whole way down, shouts to anyone and everyone as often as they like: Jai Mata Di!!  (Victory to Divine Mother!)  There are groups of people who get chants going for hours at time while hiking, and there are people who repeat it like a mantra when they feel too tired to carry on and need the extra strength, there are people who say it as a greeting, and people who just say it just for fun!!  We enjoyed joining in with the people and felt often that this simple statement melted away the strangeness of our foreign cultures and reminded us that we are all from one unified culture of the soul!

  Jai Mata Di!

  It's Orion now. 

  After Vaishno Devi, we took a bus to Jammu, but rather than dropping us at the main bus stand like we thought, we got dropped at the special Jammu to Katra bus stand located next to the railway station.  This was a minor setback, solved by deciding to brave the intensity of "general boarding" and taking the train instead of the bus to Pathankot.  We walked into the usual chaos characteristic of Indian train stations: garbage everywhere, people everywhere, people sleeping in garbage, strong smells ranging from dhoop to rotting flesh within a few metres of each other, mangy dogs eyeing you warily from the shadows, oppressive heat, crowds of people shoving their way through battlefield-esque line ups, and people, people, and more people, of all shapes and sizes.  We stood for a moment at the entrance, appreciating the madness, then entered the fray.  It took us several stressful minutes to figure things out, but eventually I pushed my way out triumphantly from a writhing crowd of people clutching two general tickets to Pathankot.  I was only sixty percent sure that the tickets would actually get us to Pathankot, so when we got to the platforms, we asked several people and discovered that "general boarding" means that you can take any train you want going in the direction of your destination, you just have to fight and win the battle of getting on the train.  If you lose the battle, you can still win the war, waiting until the next train and going through the same process again and again until you get on.

  We found a comfy spot against a pole and set our bags down so we didn't have to sit on the sticky concrete, and waited.  We had about an hour, so we had some snacks and mentally prepared ourselves for the coming test.  As time went on, the platform steadily filled up with more and more people, and poorer and poorer people.  We were in the right place.  At fifteen minutes to the scheduled departure time, the tracks were lined with masses of people, all looking down the tracks and conversing intensely.  The air seemed turbulent and the energy was agitated.  A few times another train would blow its whistle and people would leap up, grabbing their bags and getting ready to sprint.  This gave us a bit of a warning as to how ready we should be, and we prepared our bags for a quick escape.  

  There were several more false alarms, but eventually the actual train arrived.  It came barrelling down the tracks are breakneck speed, and the people started rushing like the rapids in a river.  We joined the flow, and watched as some of the more agile members of the group grabbed onto the handles of the doors and were whisked away by the speeding hunk of metal.  The train stopped, and our throng of thriving bodies caught up to the last car.  We looked around as we pressed viciously into the mass, and realized with amazement that this huge crowd of people, possibly a hundred, were meant to fit on one car.  We steeled ourselves and used our packs to our advantage, crushing our way a little further into the people.  The train doors had not yet opened, and there was a minute of held breath, where everyone waited and steadied themselves and pushed in on the people in front in a vain attempt to gain some ground.  Suddenly, the door sprang open.  Everyone started shouting, bags were being lifted up high to try to squeeze in closer, and the mob mentality reigned supreme.  

"Crush it!" we yelled as a battle cry, and we commenced the push.  It seemed like no one was moving at all, as about fifteen people were wedged in the opening blocking it completely, but then one person was through. Shouting triumphantly, he darted into the darkness of the train.  More people started getting on, and we realized that soon the seats would be full if we didn't catch up.  We doubled our efforts and used our weight to squeeze people aside.  I was clutching my guitar case by the neck, praying that it would not get snapped on the battlegrounds.  Finally, Marina clutched at the handle next to the door, but then slipped off, as someone ripped savagely through the opening.  We were separated by a few people, and I reached the door first.  Mustering all my strength, I elbowed the people next door aside and hauled my heavy load through the narrow opening.  I thought Marina was right behind me, but as I dashed to search for a seat I heard a cry.

"Orion! Help!"  I looked back to see Marina at the opening, but unable to get through.  She was wedged between several general boarding veterans, who were stopping at nothing to get on.  One missed step, and she was at risk of being trampled by the raving mob behind.  I ran back, offering my hand, and with a big pull, we careened through the door and rushed to find two seats conveniently waiting around the corner.

  But the war wasn't won quite yet.  We took off our pack and claimed our seats, placing our large bags at our feet.  People were continuously rushing onto the train, and everyone was shouting in many Indian languages. At one point someone came into our area and before taking his seat, yelled angrily at us for a few minutes in Hindi.  We eventually figured out that he didn't like the placement of our bags and we found places for them beneath a seat and up above on a rack. Things slowly settled down as people found their places, and we saw the people who had failed to get on walking dejectedly away.  One of the men in our compartment, a young nice guy, left through the window, explaining to us through hand gestures that he would ride on the roof of the train to be more comfortable.  The appeal in his decision was quite obvious to us as we sat squished between  several people in the heat. 

  By the time the train left everyone was happily chatting and the seating situation had improved dramatically.  Some people had climbed like monkeys to sleep on the luggage racks and people had moved places conveniently to arrange for the most comfort for everyone.  The rest of the journey was very comfortable!  I'm sure that sometimes general boarding is not the best choice, and it's probably more crowded on some other trains, but all in all, this was an enjoyable experience! The battle for our seats was exciting, and well worth the effort to not have to sit on a dusty, polluted, rocking, half broken down, bumpy bus.  Aside from almost missing our stop, all was well!  Our phone started working at the exact right time (as we left J&K) and we talked to our family in Pathankot just in time to find our proper stop and make it HOME!  Success!

  Here's Marina again:

  So we've already described Pathankot.  Home away from home.  Blessed comfort and hospitality.  How we love to relax there!  Anyway, we chilled there for a few days and then decided to go to Amristsar for a couple days, and come back to Pathankot once more before our train to Nepal!!!!

  So Amritsar!  We arrived by local bus, and Orion's YSS friend, Sushil, who lives in Amritsar but happened to be out of town at the time, called his brother Suraj, who picked us and our huge bags up at the bus station.. on a motorbike...  But it turned out to be okay!  It went like this:  Suraj, with a bag in front of him (often the pack cover would blow into his eyes, and cover his mouth and nose, and it was up to me to keep our driver from crashing or asphyxiating by moving the cover); then me, balancing a guitar on one leg and a ukulele on the other; and Orion on end, wearing the other pack, barely hanging on.  What fun!  We arrived safe and sound at Sushil and Suraj's OTHER brother's house, where we would kindly be offered a place to sleep and food to eat.  We never got the name of the other brother (though I'd bet money is started with "Su") or his wife because they didn't speak a word of English.  It was all okay until Suraj left...

  The couple who gave welcomed us into their home were very lovely and generous people, who fed us well, and gave their bed to sleep in at night, as it was the nicer room (such is the Indian hospitality.)  However, guessing from the fact that they spoke no English, I doubt they'd ever been around white people, nor had any of their friends.  Very shortly a rather large crowd for such a tiny house all crammed into our bedroom, and we knew we had no hopes of privacy (such is the Indian way.)  Not one spoke English and they all sat and talked to us though we couldn't understand, and talked to eachother about us and we couldn't understand, and tried to speak to us in English and we couldn't understand, and the whole thing was rather awkward.  Grateful as we were for their welcoming us and their genuine hospitality, we were glad to escape during the day to see the sights of Amritsar.

  Here's what we saw: The Golden Temple, The Attari India/Pakistan Border Ceremony, and the Jallianwala Bagh.

Golden Temple:  Is AMAZING.  It is like the Mecca for Sikhs, and world famous.  After checking your shoes you enter the temple grounds and are immediately cleansed by a wave of the most powerful peaceful relaxing energy.  I immediately felt at home.  The grounds are in a square, with tall beautiful white buildings walling the grounds, and then a marble walkway around the whole thing, with a gorgeous man-made lake  (called a "holy tank" haha) and the beautiful, shining, golden temple right in the centre accessible by a walkway.  If you sit on the edge of lake, you must sit cross legged, but I'm not totally sure why.  Men AND women must cover their heads, which makes perfect sense to me!  Its respectful to cover your head in a holy place, so if women have to do it, why shouldn't men?  A head is a head, male or female!!  Anyway.  So you wait in line to enter the temple, and then you get in and the energy is so great! I just loved it.  They have seriously talented musicians playing devotional music inside the temple all day.  There was an amazing tabla player, two esraj players who sang, and later the esrajs were swapped for harmoniums.  Their voices and the tones of their instruments rang out crystal clear and I knew that it wasn't man playing those instruments - It was the God inside those men, channeling creative power perfectly through their capable hands and voices.  Seriously the most BEAUTIFUL music I have ever heard.  Like angels!  We went back several times to soak up the vibes, and get the Sikh guru's blessings, and to enjoy the only real music we had heard since leaving Canada.  

India/Pakistan Border Ceremony:  Seriously the strangest I have ever seen human beings act.  What an odd spectacle this is!  30km from Amritsar is the Pakistan border.  Every single day EVER, thousands of people crowd to the border to see the ceremony.  The crowds pushing and shoving to get closest to the front of the line are very reminiscent of the General Boarding on the train.. Lucky for us, being whiteys, we get our own SPECIAL VIP entrance and get to steer clear of the madness and get the best seats!  So we found seats easy enough and surveyed the setup.  Each country has built massive grand stands to accommodate the thousands and thousands of people that show up every day to see the silly ceremony, and they are always full.  Patriotism is extremely high.  When the ceremony begins, a random guy starts shouting stuff in Hindi, and the crowd responds in unison, but we had no idea what they were saying.  The words stir everyone into a frenzy. A similar thing takes place on the Pakistan gate.  Both Indian and Pakistani guards line up on the respective sides, and then the gates between the two countries are flung open.  Each guard in turn takes his turn walking up to the edge of the gate, having a mock battle with the other side's guards and the marching back.  It is so RIDICULOUS how they walk.  Its like they are soooooooooo angry that they become comical.  They march soooo drastically fast and overdramatically, and then perform these insane high kicks that look like they may kick themselves in the head and give themselves concussions!  Then they grab the ropes of their respective flags and inside of lowering the flag normally, they do some weird dance where they throw the rope around and march angrily.  Its quite hilarious.  I took quite a view videos, so hopefully we'll get a chance to post one.

Jallianwala Bagh:  This is a mid sized park area near the Golden Temple grounds, with high walls, where almost 20,000 Indians were martyred by the British General Dyer for peacefully meeting to protest tyrannical British Laws.  The Bagh used to be an empty field, but its now been converted into a lovely park.  We walked around learning about what happened, including reading accounts of survivors, and viewing spots in the walls where actual bullet holes are still visible.  The story goes like this:  A group of people were meeting to rally against these unfair laws in a nonviolent manner.  General Dyer and his men showed up with a tank, but being only one entrance to the high walled Bagh, it wouldn't fit down the narrow passage.  So he and his men marched in with guns loaded.  The crowd did nothing to threaten them or hurt them, but without any warning or chance of surrender, Dyer ordered his men to take aim and fire into the crowd, killing as many as possible.  The actual order given to the General was to "disperse the crowd" but he took it a step further.  What followed was a horror story of people screaming and running, trying to escape.  People tried to climb the walls, only to picked off by the British soldiers or pulled down accidentally by other Indians frantic to escape.  Other people threw themselves into the well inside the Bagh trying to escape.  Over 120 bodies were found drowned in the well after the massacre.  A very few people were able to escape over the walls but in the end over 15,000 people died, including one seven-week-old baby and many women and children.  This horrible event was a major factor in getting India its Independence from the British.  If you want to learn more, I STRONGLY recommend watching the movie Gandhi with Ben Kingsley.  It has a very intense scene showing the events of that day.  If you don't want to watch the whole movie, YouTube the scene.  I'm sure its on there.  (But you should definitely watch the whole movie.. Its really good.)

SO.  That's that.  We hopped on our train and after some difficult sleeps, we are now in Gorakhpur (birthplace of Paramahansa Yogananda!!  Unfortunately his old home is 50km from town, so if we hope to visit it, it won't be until we come back to India) where you can catch a 3 hour bus to Sunauli, the India/Nepal border crossing town.  We are going to NEPAL!!!! SO EXCITED.  

On a sadder note....  Orion got his camera stolen in the New Delhi train station.  He was waiting in line and some &*(*%($*@^$&*(% nabbed it right out of his camera case.  All his photos from our whole trip thus far are now gone, except the few that we uploaded to FaceBook, and a couple that happened to get copied to the Sawal's computer in Pathankot.  We are very sad about this. :(  Whats more, he had to purchase a new camera right away, and ended up spending almost 500 dollars!  That's DOLLARS my friends...  So perhaps our trip shall have to be a tad shorter.  Or maybe we'll have to go to Europe and live on rice while we busk on the streets, earning money to continue our travels.  But, c'est la vie mes amies.  On the plus side, Orion burned some SERIOUS karma and his evolution shall be rapidly increased, well some other shmuck gained some mega bad karma and perhaps his house shall burn down or something.  Haha.  What can you do but keep your chin up and move on??  Also, he's really stoked on his new camera which has lots of fancy new features that the other one didn't have.

Anyway.  Next time you talk to us, WE SHALL BE IN NEPAL!  Wish us luck with dealing with the countless border scams we have to overcome.  

OM Shanti, Peace and Love,

Marina and Orion

P.S.  Sorry for the insane longness of the email.  It is almost as ridiculous as the Border Guards' anger dance.  Almost.

Lazily Lounging in Lakeside Luxury

August 12th, 2012 - Srinagar, Kashmir, India

Hello all you good people from Canada!

Thinking of you here as we are "lazily lounging in lakeside luxury."  I keep thinking of home so much because, here we are sitting on the deck of our houseboat (I will explain), and the ONE thing that's missing is that I HAVEN'T GONE SWIMMING.  I love swimming.  But here, I must cover my shoulders and be conservative instead of frolicking in a bathing suit like I would at home.  A shame.

If you haven't already guessed, its Marina writing this email.  I shall pick up where we left off... Leh!

So we really didn't do anything in Leh besides chill and enjoy the mountain culture.  But after recovering we didn't stay too long.  Trekking would have been lovely, but we ARE going to Nepal, and it was soooo overpriced.  So we decided to wait.  So we left!  We showed up at the bus stand with our packs and after some yelling/bargaining we hopped in the trunk/back seats of a Jeep heading to Srinagar.  You know where you normally put all your bags and things in the back of an SUV?  The place with no seats?  Well there were seats there, and that's where we sat.  With our knees bumping together, we hit the road!

It really wasn't that terrible of a drive actually.  Compared to what we'd been getting used to, it was luxury!  Somehow, our young flexible bodies were able to bend into awkward lying down positions and we managed some sleep.  I used a bag of potatoes for my pillow, and Orion used a stranger's suitcase.  In the morning we awoke to breath taking views of the mountain pass we were crossing as we descended into the Kashmir valley.  As we began to wake up enjoying the beautiful views, everyone else in the Jeep began falling asleep.  Including the driver.  We were supplied with an excellent view of his drooping eyelids and purple bags through the reflection in the rear view mirror and watched in horror as his head often lolled to one side.  Orion would shout something random about stopping for chai every once in awhile, and he would only grunt, and ask for a tip from us when we arrived.  What could we do but have faith that we were not yet supposed to leave this world?  We visualized white light around the Jeep and went back to enjoying the scenery.   

Somehow we arrived in one piece, and our driver managed to stay awake.  As soon as we began to enter the city, a van with two shouting man began to give chase to our Jeep.  We pulled over and found out they had somehow sniffed out the white people hiding in the trunk of the Jeep and wanted to show us accommodation.  We immediately refused.  After driving for awhile longer, our driver arrived at a suitably random place to dump us by the side of the road, so we got out.  The men had followed us for about half an hour and BEGGED to show us their room.  We told them our cheap budget, and they promised it would only cost that much so we reluctantly agreed to go.  We expected a cement hole in the wall in some sort of dark alley.  That's usually what you get for following the hotel touts.  But, we were presently surprised to be led to a houseboat - Srinagar's main tourist attraction.  It was a seriously funky boat, and it was shared with the actual Indian family who lived there, but the price was right so we agreed to stay.

Our room was made of whatever scraps of wood they could find nailed to the floor, roof, and walls, completely covered in random scraps of colourful fabric, and over-postered in ONE stupid Airtel (an Indian cellphone company) add.  There were actually like 30 of the SAME poster...  Our bathroom floor was slanted at a 45 degree angle, and there was a lovely hole in the boards of the wall situated directly behind the squat toilet.  Lovely.  But it was still a fun room!  We quite enjoyed moving into it.  

We discovered we were close to town as well.  All we had to do was cross a simple walking bridge!  Or so we thought...  As we strolled comfortably down the cement bridge, we were surprised to see that the bridge sort of ended halfway across...  All that was left was the framework - long boards crisscrossing over the 6m drop to the river below.   To get to the boards, we had to step off the cement about 60cm down to the sketchy boards..  Then balanced precariously, we walked across one framework beam.   When we reached the end of the beam (blocked by some random hunk of machinery), someone had placed old, splitting 2x6s in a terrifyingly sketchy "walkway" the rest of the way across.  We then stepped from the stable framework beam onto the unstable wobbly boards and made the rest of the journey across!  And LO!  The other side was waiting.  After a day or two, we became quite proficient at the art of walking the bridge.  We even attempted the feat in the rain.  One time one the way home, we had to wait at one end for a family to cross.  We were impressed to see a young little girl leading the way.  As she approached, we could see she wasn't as brave as we thought, as she was crying "MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY!"  the whole way.  But everyone made it without incident.  I guess you have to learn the ways of such things at a young age in order to survive in India!

Anyway.  So Srinagar!  The things to do here are stay on a houseboat, ride in a shikara (a gondola like boat with pillows and curtains and shade that you lounge in while being paddled around), and stay on a houseboat. I am aware that I said that twice.  We figured our houseboat/homestay experience on the river was good enough so we thought we had that checked off.  Not so!!  

We decided to get a shikara ride around the lake the next day.  We were paddled around in luxury on Dal Lake and the smaller Golden Lake.  We got a good look at the water based culture in Srinagar.  When the British were in India, for a reason I forget, they were not allowed to own land in Srinagar.  So being so clever, they built a MILLION houseboats and lived on the lake.  There are still here today, only they have been occupied by the locals.  Everything is done on the lake.  If you want to go visit your neighbour, you take your canoe, not your car.  If you want to buy fruits or veggies, you wait for the floating veggie market to come paddling by in a canoe. Or the canoe-based supermarket with chips, cigarettes, chocolate, and EVERYTHING.  Or the floating homemade soft ice cream boat with delicious cardamom flavoured ice cream for only 10 Rupees!  We (especially me) soon realized the appeal of the fancier houseboats on the lake and were convinced to look for our own immediately!  

We found a seriously CUTE little boat for just around 1 dollar over our 5 dollar each budget, which including breakfast and dinner, and the entire boat to ourselves.  Excited, we moved in the next morning, crossing the precarious death bridge with our ridiculously heavy packs and instruments, expecting to stay maybe 2 nights...

Our room has a massive comfy bed (amazing) and the bathroom is clean and doesn't smell (amazing!) and if we walk down a tiny narrow carpeted hallway, we enter our sitting room area with lovely white cotton curtains blowing in the wind, leading to our deck.  Our deck is the best part!  It has two benches for sitting, and  two bed-like loungers for lounging.  I immediately decked my side out with pillows for maximum comfort. :)  The view off our deck is of the gorgeous mountain in Srinagar with a shrine dedicated to Swami Shankara at the top of it, a quiet but lively "roadway" where lots of people in their little boats paddle past all day, and a view of other cute little houseboats.  Suddenly, 2 nights became a week.  HOW?  We got sucked in to serious chilling!  Like I said earlier, the only thing missing is that I'm not wearing a bathing suit and jumping into the lake every time I get a little too warm.  But this is India!  And Srinagar is mostly Muslim.  So I don't..

2 days ago we did a pilgrimage to the Shankaracharya temple in celebration of Krishna's birthday.  Being in a Muslim city isn't the ideal place for celebrating Hindu holidays but I think we picked the best place to be.  After paying our respects in the temple, we started the walk down and enjoyed GORGEOUS views of the city.  We even used our cameras to zoom in on our houseboat, so tiny from so far up!  We also celebrated Orion's birthday on the 8th!  There just happens to be a lot of ice cream in Srinagar, so obviously, we had ice cream. (Orion's favorite thing ever.)

Right now happens to be the Ramadan (Ramazan), the hugest Muslim celebration of the year.  The Muslims fast for 30 days from dawn until dusk with lots of prayer throughout the day.  They project their prayers through loudspeakers placed EVERYWHERE.  There are a million different people singing a million different songs all with terrible singing voices and all at the same time.  VERY loudly.  ALL the time.  And since we can't understand what they're saying, it makes it slightly more confusing.  Up on the top of the mountain, way up high, we could still here the drone of the thousands of voices.  Because of the chaos of sound, seeming to us to sound like thousands of people moaning and groaning, we have dubbed it "The Zombie Apocalypse."   (One of the reasons we were happy to leave our first houseboat was because we were literally woken up EVERY night like TEN TIMES a night to actually the LOUDEST most HORRIBLE singing ever.  Like so loud it hurt our ears and we couldn't sleep even with earplugs in.)

Well that's about it..  We plan on leaving tomorrow to spend the rest of August before our departure to Nepal hiking Vaishno Devi, visiting the Sawal's again in Pathankot, seeing the Golden Temple in Amritsar, and possibly going for a pony ride in Dalhousie.  LOTS to do.  Anyway that's all for now.  Hope this rant wasn't too boring or lengthy like all our emails tend to be.

Please everyone, after reading this email, women especially, put on your bathing suits, put on SHORTS and a SLEEVELESS SHIRT over top, go to the lake, and wearing only your bathing suit, no black robes or headscarves or ghost costumes with only tiny mesh eye holes, GO SWIMMING.  Then exalt in your freedom and rejoice in your equality! (This is aimed at women.  It is so difficult to see such oppressed women in this culture.)

LOVE Marina (And Orion who is sitting beside me patiently correcting my spelling and grammar) 

The Epic Journey to Leh, Ladakh

July 28th, 2012 - Leh, Ladakh, IndiaHello all!

It's Orion here.  Where did we leave off...Mcleod Ganj...

While we were staying in Mcleod Ganj, we had a little faithful "hole in the wall" restaurant that we went to for every meal.  Marina noticed this little hidden place behind a giant electricity box; it was packed with locals.  We immediately knew that it would be an amazing restaurant.  And it was!  The food was different every day, and it was legit Indian-style, and legit Indian-cheap!  And SO GOOD.  One day, however, we thought we'd try out one of the many tourist restaurants that filled the town.  We ordered momos, a traditional Tibetan dumpling and another Tibetan specialty, noodle soup.  The food was delicious, but that night both Marina and I got super stomach sick.  The next day was wasted in bed, and our plan of hiking and bouldering were foiled.  I suppose it was karma for betraying our favourite little restaurant!  

After we had recovered sufficiently, but not even close to fully, we jumped on the local bus to Manali - a 10+ hour drive.  We met some other nice travelers who were also suffering from sickness, and we endured the heinous night bus together.  We managed to survive, but the entire time we were trying not to vomit, staring bleakly out the front window, reciting frantic healing affirmations, as much as our troubled brains could handle.  When we disembarked, we consulted our friends, and agreed that it was the worst bus ride of our lives.  

We arrived at 4:30am.  Our friends weren't on as tight of a budget as us, so they quickly agreed to go with one of the hotel touts, but Marina and I decided to walk around the town for hours looking for something cheaper.  Eventually we found a place, right next door to our friends.  We slept most of the day and when we woke up we decided that Manli wasn't worth staying for.  We met some other travelers at the hotel our friends were staying at and booked a minibus (no way we were going by local bus this time) to Leh leaving that night at 2am.  Our friends (Conor - Irish and Anna - German) were worse off than before, suffering from a bad fever and terrible Delhi-Belly.  Marina spent most of the day in bed and I wasn't feeling too hot myself, but we decided to get on the bus anyway...probably a bad call...

And we were on our way! For 45km... We rose quickly up the first mountain pass on treacherous switchbacks in the pouring rain and with fog as thick as pea soup.  Everything seemed to be going smoothly (as good as the roads/weather could), until we were literally "stuck in the mud."  About two hours had passed when we came to an abrupt halt.  There was a huge line up of cars, all turned off.  In India, idling is the norm, so something was up.  Trusting that we would soon be on our way, we took the opportunity of the still vehicle to fall asleep.  When we awoke, we were in the same place, and the line up of cars had increased exponentially, about three switchbacks below and above.

We got out of the car to investigate, and found three vehicles literally buried in the thick, squishy, serpentine, suctiony, death grip of the mud.  Despite the obvious issue, everyone was sleeping and chilling out.  We learned that they were waiting for full daylight and hopefully the stop of the rain before they began the ordeal ahead.

We went back to sleep, and woke up to the sound of engines revving and people shouting.  It sounded like a cross between a Canadian hockey game and a Nascar race.  Eventually the first car rolled up towards our parked bus amidst a flurry of cheers.  As far was we could hear, the next vehicle took a lot more effort, but eventually it too was free of the muck.  At this point we were all awake and walked over to check out the scene.  The last stuck vehicle was a huge "Goods Carrier."  There were about 20 or 30 Indians getting ready to push.  It was remarkable to watch as people's natural roles came out in the time of crisis.  There was a leader, shouting instructions, faithful followers, and everyone in between.  With a yell of "Cello!" ("Let's go!" in Hindi) everyone started yelling and pushing.  The truck revved and revved and lurched and seemed like it would tip over again and again, and finally rolled forward out of the first mud hole.  Marina took a great video of the scene, hopefully soon to be on our youtube channel (www.youtube.com/soundsplashmusic), internet quality depending.  The truck got stuck several more times, but the Indian's spirit was undanuted.  They succeeded again and celebrated by cheering and beginning to fill the mud pits with the mica slate rocks lining the road.  We were on a giant scree slope, so materials to fill the holes were in abundance.  Soon the drivers on either side were revving their engines, and soon they were off roading across the pit, having a good ol' time.  When people got stuck, there were always plenty of hands to help push.  Soon it was our turn and we got across with no difficulty at all.  It was so amazing to see how these people took care of the problem all on their own.  In Canada we would have waited for hours for the road crews to come, and then hours more while they fixed the issue.  We probably would have turned back.  The Indian way is far more exciting, and worked fine!

With jubilant hearts, we drove off, talking excitedly about our success.  But not for long. Within about 10 minutes, we encountered another line up of vehicles, this one longer than the last.  We found out that there had been a landslide and the road was blocked.  I went to check it out, but it was a very dangerous situation.  The mountain was in the process of collapsing, and when you looked up, you could see constant streams of mud and rolling boulders in all directions.  Above the road was a huge precipice, probably at least 70 metres high, and every few seconds, giant boulders would launch off it with deadly speed.  Most landed about halfway down the slope towards us, but a few went farther.  At one point, a man was walking to check out the road block when I heard several panicked shouts from the people around me.  I looked up to see a stone almost as large as me hurtling off the cliff.  The man began to run, his robes flying and mud spattering all around him.  The boulder landed about 3/4 of the way down the slope with a deadly crunch, and bounced once more, landing with a thud in the middle of the road, exactly where the man had been walking.  We were all reminded of the gravity of the situation and got to work with a bit more fervor. 

The road block consisted of two huge boulders blocking the way.  Once again the roles of leader and followers were magically esablished without a word, and we got to work.  There were about 10 or more of us pushing, and it the rock hardly budged.  We hoped to find a lever of some kind to help, but we had no such luck.  We eventually found a rope, and to the chant of, Ek, do, TEEN!" (1, 2, 3 in Hindi) we managed to clear the first boulder out of the way.  The second was even more of a sturuggle, but with the help of our mantra, we finally succeeded.  We only had to retreat one other time to avoid falling boulders, but the memory of the rock flying from the cliff weighed heavily on our minds.  Soon we would be driving through that same danger zone, and a car is a much bigger target... We drove through slowly and precisely in complete silence, and let our held breath out as we reached the other side.  But we still had no idea of what was to come.

The road improved remarkably after that point, and we were rewarded with sunny skies and amazing views of the largest mountains any of us had ever witnessed.  It was absolutely incredible.  We took hurried photos out of the windows and gasps of amazement were the only words uttered.  We had reached the top of the first pass.  To top it all off, alpine flowers littered the meadows beside the winding road.  We didn't spend too much time on the plateau, and began to descend another set of intense switchbacks.  The road got worse, and we got our first glimpse of an utterly massacred vehicle that had strayed too close to the edge.  Another reminder of the dangers we were facing.

The scenery changed gradually from snowy peaks to an alpine desert.  It no longer seemed like we were that high up, but we evidently were.  At about 3000 meters, the altitude sickness began to hit me.  I stopped taking photos except for a half hearted snap every once in a while and started feeling my brain expand in my skull.  I had a crushing headache first of all, and then began to get super light headed and nauseous.  As we continued to rise, the syptoms got worse and worse.  Marina and Anna were suffering as well, but I think I got the worst of it (for now).  We took homeopathic coca (a remedy for altitude sickness) and it helped a little, but nothing can fully get rid of the dreaded illness.  After driving for several hours more, our driver said that we were going to stop for the night in a little village called Pang.  At this point we had been sitting in the bus for a night and most of the next day - about 18 hours.  I was incredibly grateful to hear this as I was not faring well at all, and it was good to hear that our driver would be able to get some sleep.  The drive is usually over 20 hours, and some drivers do it all in one stretch.  I'm glad that we weren't on one of those buses.

By the time we were about 30km from Pang, I thought that I was dying.  My head felt like my brain was about to ooze out of my ears, I was as weak as Ghandi's fast unto death, my joints were aching so much that I could barely move, I was extremely dizzy, and I was so nauseous that I was expecting to vomit at any second.  Just the simple act of lifting my arm took as much will and energy as hiking for 5 hours up to Monashee Lake on a normal day.  But worse.  So much worse.  We had also just fallen behind a huge army convoy about about 20 massive trucks spouting black fumes.  We were going much slower than before, and the smoke was unbearable and inescapable.  I had my scarf wrapped around my face and was trying to reciting positive affirmations in my head, but my delerious mind could only manage, "Om, om, om, om..."  My entire body felt like it was going to pop.  There was so much pain, but I couldn't decipher where it was coming from.  It was everywhere.  It was by far the worst I've ever felt in my life.  I actually thought that I might not make it to Leh alive. 

When we finally got to Pang, at about 4200 meters, I mustered up all of my energy and lunged for the door.  I stumbled outside and collapsed on a pile of dirt, oblivious to my surroundings.  My head was reeling, and all of the symptoms from before were magnified.  At least I was off the bus.  Marina, who wasn't in full health but was better than me, commanded me to take off my shoes and "earth."  It helped the nausea a bit, and I was able to walk around a little, in a painful daze.  I was so grateful for Marina's help as I probably would have just sat down on the ground and frozen that night. She carried my heavy bag and walked me to our dorm-style tent, covered me with blankets and told me to sleep.  I did manage to sleep a little, and every time I woke up Marina was there to tell me to drink water.  We were both terribly dehydrated; when we left our stomachs were still sick and every time we put anything in we felt like throwing up.  Unfortunately, drinking water is very important when battling altitude.  The stars seemed to be against us.  Taking little sips throughout the night helped my horribly parched throat a little, and when I woke up in the morning I felt marginally better.  At least I didn't feel like I was going to die. 

But Marina had a terrible night.  Stopping at high altitudes when you are already suffering from severe altitude sickness symptoms is a big no-no, but we had no choice!  The whole trip was planned.  There was no way for us to retreat down the mountain, and even if there was, our driver wouldn't have done it.  He's paid almost nothing for these savage drives: only 3000 rupees for the round trip.  One of the other symptoms of sever altitude sickness is the inablility to sleep.  Marina didn't sleep hardly at all, and when she did, she was tortured with trippy hallucinogenic nightmares.  The blankets, which weighed a lot already, felt like they were crushing her, and she developed all of the awful symptoms that I had had the day before.  When we woke up in the morning, I felt slightly better, but she felt indescribably worse. 

And then we got back in the bus...the last thing any of us wanted to do.  Praying that the ground would stay flat, we watched helplessly as we rose and rose, higher and higher.  We read later that if you have any of the symptoms that we were experiencing in Pang, you should retreat IMMEDIATELY to lower altitudes.  Even 300 meters can help.  Instead, we were rising to the peak of second highest motorable road in the world.  The Tanglang La mountain pass is 5360 meters at its peak.  Instead of descending, we were going up another thousand meters.  Our painful bodies got steadily worse.  Our joints got especially torturous, and Marina was getting to the same peak of pain and delerium that I had experienced the night before.  I was also getting close to that point, but the night of rest had helped me to acclimatise somewhat.  

Tanglang La.  When we saw the sign proudly stating our altitude, our inflamed brains swelled in horror.  We leveled out for a bit, and then came to another dreaded line up of parked trucks.  We were told that workers were in the process of blasting to widen the road. Oh! I forgot to mention that this entire road is one lane, rarely paved, and has drops of hundreds of meters the entire way.  Passing is terrifying and near head on collisions are common. As I stated earlier, we passed many car wreaks, some of them with almost no remains.  Add that to the altitude sickness and you have quite an epic little road trip.

At this point, Marina was feeling the cold clutch of death.  When we stopped, she squatted at the edge of the road/cliff and tried to comprehend consciousness.  She was seeing spots instead of mountains and the vertigo was nearly intolerable.  Tears were streaming from her eyes and her gaze was distant.  I tried to talk to her but her responses made no sense, so I made her take off her shoes and touch the earth to absorb some healing energy.  Even the other travelers, some of whom had been fine so far, were feeling a bit dizzy at this point.  The feeling is so difficult to describe, but just imagine the worst thing you could ever feel, across your entire body.  It's worse than that.  (We were confused as to why we had been hit so hard with the dreaded sickness compared to the others.  Later we read in the Lonely Planet that often the younger, fitter members of groups are the ones who are most destroyed.)  As we were sitting at the top of the pass, we could see descending switch backs in the distance. To us, it was like a watery oasis to a man stranded in the desert.  

Finally we reached our goal and started descending.  I felt immediate relief, but Marina took a little longer.  As we were heading down, the driver decided that he wanted to put on our Canadian favourite, Justin Bieber.  For the rest of the journey he had been playing decent contemporary indian music, bangra, etc.  It would have been nice, except that he had the worst musical A.D.D. that we've ever witnessed.  He would listen to about 5 or 10 seconds of a song, and then skip.  And that would go on for all day and night.  But he had no problem listening to full albums of Justin Bieber!  This was the last straw for Marina.  She was too nauseous to speak, but frantically motioned to her bag with her waiting ipod.  I grabbed it and asked what she wanted me to put on. As far as I could understand, her response was, "ANYTHING."  I chose Jesse Cook, and the music seriously healed us as we descended to the valley floor.

We listened to music for the rest of the journey, with one rest break and one last military passport check (of which there had been many).  We felt much better the more we descended, but the sickness lingered.  When we finally reached Leh, we were 2000 meters lower than the highest mountain pass of hell.  We found a "cheap" guesthouse (for Leh), and collapsed in gratitude.

For the past few days we've been recuperating, and now we are finally back to normal!  Leh is a beautiful place that reminds us so much of Laos.  We visited a donkey sanctuary for helpless, sick and abandoned cute little beasts.  Marina, who was feeling sick that day, was healed by the loving donkeys.  We got to pet them and they are so trusting!  They approach you and nuzzle you and we even got to hang out with a cute little fluffy baby that loved Marina so much.  It kept following her around wanting more pets.  

The people here smile instead of angrily staring, and they cheerily say, "Julay!" just like the greeting, "Sabaidee!" in Laos.  The vibe is super chill and there is also an amazing amount of beautiful mountains and scenery to explore.  Ladakh (the state we're in) is probably the most eco-conscious in India, and organic food and clean streets are prevalent.  We LOVE IT HERE!  We hope to do a trek sometime soon now that we're fully recovered, but as always, we're playing it by ear.

We are fully healthy and happy and grateful to be alive!  Sending love to all of you.  I started a gypsy jazz song today and we'll probably record it soon.  Hopefully we can post it for you to hear!  Uke, guit, and shaker, and lots of exciting chunk-a-chunk rhythms.  

Peace and love!  Hope this novel isn't too long for you to handle.  We don't want your brains to explode like ours did on the mountains! 

ॐOrion (& Marina)
P.S. All three of the highest motorable roads in the world are in Ladakh.  Maybe we'll check out the other two!  Google it.

Mcleod Ganj

July 21st, 2012 - Mcleod Ganj, Himachal Pradesh, India

Hey everyone!  Just a quick update of the last few days...  Orion wrote the last email, and we decided to take turns, so its my turn! (Marina)

After a shortish and slightly crammed bus ride we arrived in Mcleod Ganj.  Two things that shocked us immensely:
-The amount of white people tourists!  They looked so odd next to the locals, and they stuck out terribly.  It made us wonder how silly we must look...  No wonder we get stared at so often.

-The laid-backness of the town.  A majority of the population of Mcleod Ganj is Tibetan people, as this is where their Dalai Lama sought refuge after being forced out of Tibet.  The Tibetan people are so RELAXED and nobody hassles you or stares at you, and they smile when you look at them!  Its amazing. 

Unforunately, to contrast the peaceful Tibetan culture, there are some ridiculously obnoxious Indian tourists escaping the heat in the North.  They stare openly with disgusting looks on their faces, and approach you saying, "Hellllooo my friend.  Excuse me.  One snap?"  (Snap meaning photo.)  When you say no, get lost, they giggle with eachother and say "Why not? PLeeaaassseeee? Just one snap?" while you frantically walk away.
Poor Orion is amazed at how much more hassling he gets being stuck with me, the white girl with crazy hair!  He said he couldn't believe how many people stare and approach you or whatever.  I told him to imagine how it was for me travelling alone. :)  I'm grateful to have him with me because I get hassled less!

The mountains here are AMAZING.  Most days have been cloudy, but the weather moves quickly here and glimpses of the surrounding peaks are sometimes visible.  We hope to do a day hike tomorrow to the top of a nearby mountain where there is supposedly good bouldering, and epic views of snowy mountains in the distance.  We hiked to a nearby town today where there is a trail to a waterfall.  The trail was packed with people so we took a turn and walked a little on our own to a nice quiet peaceful spot to relax and enjoy the view.  We weren't alone for long however!  Some Indians followed us into the bush and approached us asking "Excuse me, one snap?"  It was time to go!  

In our hurry to escape from the nagging Indians, we rushed along a path and not watching my footing properly, I brushed my foot across what appears to be the Indian/Himalayan version of our stinging nettles.  OW.  It seriously hurt.  It immediately swelled up and burned and stung so we walked/hobbled back to town, hoping to catch a rickshaw back to town to get to our room for some remedies.  Of course, the tiny road was completely traffic jammed and the walking pace was faster than the cars!  So instead we walked the whole way.  Luckily the swelling went down and it stopped hurting as bad.  The hike tomorrow depends on the healing rate of my silly foot now!  Oh well.

So we wanted to mention a little bit about the Tibetan's story.  We went to a small museum yesterday and read about what really happened to the Tibetans when their country was occupied by China, and it really moved us to spread awareness about whats going on here.  I'm not going to give a history lesson, so I would strongly encourage you to Google some of the facts after you read this email and become educated.

So basically Tibet is this peace loving culture, that believes strongly in preserving their environment, spirituality, respect for animals and vegetarianism. They lived for many years with their own spiritual democratic government, with equality between men and women, and a very strong balance with nature.  Their government system is way more advanced than any other that we've seen or heard of.  

When China decided that they suddenly owned Tibet, they invaded without warning with 40,000 soldiers trained to massacre and desecrate the Tibetan people, land, and culture.  The peaceful Tibetans had never had use for an army, so with only 6,000 fighters they were defeated.  The Chinese government then proceeded to attempt to completely wipe out the Tibetan way of life.
Buddhist monks and nuns and any person who stood up again the Chinese were held prisoner in labor camps and tortured and interrogated.  (For what?!)  We read one nun's account of what happened to her and some other nuns while they were imprisoned, and it was too awful to repeat here.  Like Hitler, or the Khmer Rouge, the Chinese government had started a genocide.  In the occupation, around 1.2 million Tibetans died.

Tibetan people who tried to remain in the homeland were starved and forced to adopt the Chinese way of living.  Any rebellion resulted in torture and often death.  That is why the Dalai Lama was finally forced to flee his country and escape to India through insanely high mountain passes.  Many Tibetans followed in his path, and died from exposure or suffered extreme frostbite.

We just Googled this site, so check this out for more information or to help out:   http://www.savetibet.org/resource-center/all-about-tibet/history-since-chinese-invasion

Anyway, after our hike we're hopefully headed to Leh, Ladakh for some even more intense mountain views!  (After a seriously long bus ride..24 hours?)  Hope everyone is enjoying our beautiful Canadian summer!

OM Shanti OM!

Love,
Marina (and Orion)

The Escape from Delhi

July 16th, 2012 - Pathankot, India

Namaste!

It's been exactly a week since we left the Great White North.  We'll have to fill you in on a fair bit.  Here goes...

Our journey started out with the spirit of India.  After a tearful farewell at the airport to family and friends, we flew from Kelowna to Vancouver via Canada's favourite airline, Westjet.  We were grateful to take our instruments as carry-on baggage, and the flight was smooth and uneventful.  We marvelled at the Coastal Mountains, and remembered flying home from our last trips and our respective emotions that seeing the great mountains aroused. 

It was hot and sunny in Vancouver, and after claiming our bags, we went to find our China Southern check-in port.  A man stopped us as we were walking past.

"Do you need help getting somewhere?"

"Yes, we're looking for the China Southern check-in."

Our response was countered with a solemn look and a sigh. "Oh no..." the helpful man said, "Your flight is delayed until 7:30pm."

I was 8am at the time.  We joined the growing line up of disgruntled travellers to China and beyond, and we waited.  And waited.  And waited.  Although the delay was not exactly to our liking, we were fortunate as we didn't have a "set schedule."  We had plans of course, but no plans that could not be easily altered.  It was unfortunate for the Australians who had to get back to work the next day.  They weren't very happy.  We decided that the best course of action was to laugh at everything that went wrong.  In India it would be much worse, so it was just a warm up!

Finally we were able to talk to the Chinese men at the desk, and we left with simple directions, a scribble on our itineraries, and a point to the next gigantic line up.  Hours later we left triumphantly with our boarding passes and vouchers to a complimentary hotel to bide the time until our delayed flight.  We enjoyed a gourmet $22 meal, and slept until it was time to leave.

Upon re-arriving at the airport, we went through security without any problems besides a quick expedition for me to the new "naked machine."  They were to become a constant for me for all check ins in the future.  The metal bangle on my wrist is not to the security officers' liking.

We arrived in Guangzhou, China after a harrowing fifteen hour flight.  Both Marina and I were used to the luxuries of Singapore and Japan Air, so the discomfort of China Southern came as a bit of a surprise.  We survived, and agreed that for the price it was worth it.  However, we'll do our best not to fly home on the same airline.  We were a day behind schedule at this point, so we were given a hotel in Guangzhou as well.  This one was not as luxurious as Vancouver's; it smelt of sewage and the humidity was oppressive.  With sticky skin and fan on full blast, we managed to fall asleep. 

In the morning we explored a little bit around the hotel.  It reminded me a lot of Northern Vietnam, which makes sense as Guangzhou and Hanoi are quite close.  We wandered windy streets and hid from the heat in the narrow alleyways while exploring the rice paddies in the midst of towering apartment buildings.  It was a free trip to get a glimpse of China!  I'm sure we'll return some day to see it more completely.

The next flight to Delhi was as uncomfortable as the last, but it was an even smaller plane.  We were the second-last row, so at least the engines were a little further away than last time.  Earplugs were a necessity for the fifteen hours before.  China helped us ward off the jet lag, and before we knew it, we had arrived in Delhi. India!

We found our bags quickly and plotted how to get money and escape the chaos of the airport.  It was about 9pm in India; with nightfall, we knew that things would be more difficult, and more expensive.  We booked a taxi to Paharganj, the tourist hub and dirt-bag sector of Delhi.  The taxi wasn't too expensive, and it was nice to break up one of the 500 rupee notes that the ATM had given us. It's always much better to have small change in India.  If you show that you have a lot of money, you'll be forced to spend it.

The taxi ride was pleasant, but when we arrived at the entrance to Paharganj, a man with a hat with "Security" embroidered on it stopped us.  He wouldn't let us in, saying that a Shiva festival was on and that it was too dangerous.  It didn't look dangerous to us.  The streets were deserted and everything was quiet, even for India.  Foolishly, we believed him, and went to a nearby tourist office to ask for aid.  At the tourist office the told us that because of the festival, everything was booked up and that it was impossible to get a hotel or a train or bus ticket anywhere in or out of Delhi.  He told us of "the only way" to get out, which was a government sponsored deal to get a bus to Srinagar in the far north, and a week long staying on a fancy houseboat there.  It seemed believable, and at the beginning we almost went for it.  It was expensive, but the houseboats were on our list of things to do anyway, so we thought it might be worth it.  We even let him scan our passports and signed a little agreement telling us what we would get out of the deal.  Then we noticed another traveller in the shop and found that she was in the same situation.  We started to re-think the set-up, so when the people at the shop left for a minute to let us think, we quickly used their computer and googled "srinagar houseboat scam delhi."  This is what came up, at http://www.scam.com/blog.php?b=8520 :

Scam Srinagar Houseboat Yasir Altaf Omer Baktoo
Posted 05-11-2010 at 01:21 AM by Scammed in DelhiI just want to warn everyone against the scam in India, Srinagar Housboat.
DO NOT trust OMER BAKTOO or YASIR ALTAF.
Or any friends of them..
Both active in Delhi; selling tour to Kashmir, Srinagar Houseboat
They sell you fake tours. Earn allot of money! Try to let you fall in love with them borrow money from you and never give it back!
They SCAM you big time!
Be carefull!!

We weren't at Omer Baktoo or Yasir Altaf, but the description matched our situation exactly.  It seemed smarter to take our chances on the streets of Delhi at midnight rather than possibly throwing away $300 CAD to some slimy scammers.  We told the people that we weren't feeling too great about it when he came back in, and he freaked out.

"Get out of my shop!  Now!" he shouted, "I will be charged 50% for your cancellation! Get out! Faster! Now!"

Of course, he was lying. There's no way he would be charged anything, because he was scamming us all along.  We left with Britt (the Aussie who was also nearly scammed) and tried again to enter Paharganj, but to no avail.  We drove around by rickshaw for quite a long time, and finally settled on the cheapest hotel we could find - six thousand rupees split between the three of us - quite a hard hit to our budget.  But what can you do?  The scammers in Delhi are truly masters, and they all work together to back up their stories. 

The next morning we left early and went to the train station to try to get OUT of Delhi, but the city had us in her death grip.  We left immediately for the YSS centre in Connaught Place and parted ways with Britt.  We meditated for an hour or so, and felt much more able to face the continually trying day.  Upon getting back to Connaught Place, everyone continued to try to scam us, and after 8ish hours of walking to every shop imaginable, we bought a cell phone and left for the YSS Ashram in Delhi, Noida area.  That journey was a little smoother, and there happened to be a retreat running at the ashram, so after arriving safely and fairly quickly, we felt a little more rested.  We stayed for a full day meditating and detoxing our brains - two nights, and then left the next day.  Before leaving we called our Indian friend Yajur in Pathankot and asked for advice.  He told us to go to the bus station and ignore everyone, and to just buy a local bus ticket to Pathankot.

Following his advice, and using our new cell phone to it's full capabilities (letting Yajur argue with the scammers and tell us the truth about the "nonexistant" bus and train tickets), we got on a bus packed with locals.  Thirteen hours later, we arrived at Pathankot, and were welcomed warmly by our Indian family.  We are so grateful for Yajur's help getting here, and the entire family's amazing hospitality and love.

We are still in Pathankot, enjoying Neeru's (our Indian mother) AMAZING food and everyone's wonderful help getting our trip organized.  Marina is in the process of painting Rachit's (our second Indian brother - Yajur is the other) guitar, the way she also painted my travel guitar, and I am busing myself giving guitar lessons and writing songs.  We are playing lots of music, and feeling incredibly grateful.  Neeru's food is actually the best food in all of India, so as long as we don't get too fat, all is well.

That's all for now!  We've heard a rumour that there is good bouldering in McLeod Ganj, about two and a half hours from here, so we're planning on hitting that up and broin' out with the Dalai Lama while we're at it.  Peace and love!  We'll talk to you all sometime after some more adventures.  We're loving India, and this is only the beginning.

Peace through Music,

Orion (& Marina)

P.S. Bron Johnson just finished our first video entitled "Who is OM?" Check it out here! Yet another example of the amazing people and opportunities in our lives.  THANK YOU!

Testing...

July 8th, 2012 - Vernon, Canada

Hello all!

It's time!  We're doing the final look over our bags and tomorrow morning we're off to India!  It's already far too late to get enough rest, but we're hoping that lots of sleep will happen while flying...

It's been a blast getting Fire & Water done, playing shows, and being around Vernon for a while, but now it's time to have some adventures of a different kind.  Songs are waiting to be written, and lands to be explored. We will be in touch, via email and on our newly designed website www.theomsound.com.

Thanks to everyone who came to our album release/going away party.  We had a blast! 

We're looking forward to all the stories to come!  If you know of anyone else who would like to be on the email list, get them to shoot us an email asking to be added and we'll put them on! 

Let it begin.

Peace and love,

Orion and Marina

Fire & Water

June 29th, 2012 - Vernon, Canada

Last night/this morning, we stayed up until 6:30am finishing up the last masters of our album!  It's sent off and officially in production at this very moment.  We should have the hard copies early next week, and then we release the album on Friday, July 6th!  Exciting!  It was amazing listening to the album in sequence, sleep deprived, delirious and stoked, as the final masters bounced.  15 hours a day for two weeks, and 18 hours yesterday, and Fire & Water is complete.  We think you'll love it. :)

~O