Last week, I traveled with my co-worker Sabrina up to northern India. Sabrina was scoping out organizations to work with in the future, and I was the trusty traveling companion who was happy to have a change of scenery. We had a whirlwind trip and saw a bunch of different projects. I thought of writing out a detailed account of the trip for you, but even I don’t want to read all of that. So here are a few highlights (or lowlights) of each day.
Day 1: Mumbai- Rode on five trains. Drank a real café mocha. At Victoria Station, was sorely tempted to dance like in Slumdog Millionaire.
Overnight: Kept awake on the Rajdani Express by sonorous snoring from a nearby berth. After falling asleep, was awakened when every cell phone in the train car got a text message when we crossed a state line. “Welcome to Gujarat! Welcom to Harayana! Welcome to Mahdya Pradesh!”
Day 2: Woke up grumpy but was cheered up by our friend the coffee-walla. In New Delhi, visited both Café Coffee Day (the Indian version of Starbucks) locations in Connaught Place. Went shopping in Main Bazaar. Tried not to melt in the heat. Was unsuccessful. Boarded train number six to Dehra Dun.
Day 3: Woke up in Dehra Dun station. Not sure how long we had been sleeping after the train arrived. (Ooops.) Boarded a bus to Mussoorie, a beautiful hill station in the mountains. Enjoyed scenic views of mist and rock. Prayed our speeding bus would not fly off the side of the mountain.
Day 4: Walked up the mountain in Mussoorie. And down the mountain. And up. And down. Finally had to confront how out of shape I have become. Bought homemade peanut butter and yak cheese at Sister’s Bazaar. Watched an amazing sunset over the Gwalior hills.
Day 5: Back down the mountain into the Doon Valley. (“Doon” means “valley,” of course, but Indians are fond of repeating words in general.) Prayed our speeding taxi wouldn’t fly off the side of the mountain. Noticed the following words on a sign on the side of the road: “the hills are lonely, barren, and steep, and I have miles to go before I sleep.” Was Robert Frost writing poetry to warn Indian truckers not to get drowsy? Arrived at Herbertpore Community Hospital, which is run by the Emmanuel Health Association. Was served the one meal I had hoped to leave behind at PB--egg curry.
Day 6: Took a tour of Herbertpore Community Hospital. Took a three-hour nap.
Day 7: Two words to describe Dehra Dun: hot and crowded. Went to (you guessed it) Café Coffee Day. Heard some good news from an old friend that made me smile.
Day 8: Dehra Dun: visited a cool project called SNEHA. They run schools, healthcare, and community empowerment projects for the slums in the city. Bill Clinton donated their computers.
Day 9: Arrived in Delhi on the overnight train. Had beef burgundy and mashed potatoes for lunch at the Canadian Embassy. I like my new-found Canadian friends. Had fun wandering around New Delhi for the second time in a week.
Day 10: A plane, and train, and an auto rickshaw to get back to Igatpuri!
Here’s one more recap:
11.7 kilos of stuff in my backpack
8 trains
7 visits to Café Coffee Day
6 pairs of earrings haggled over in Delhi
5 times we went out to eat paneer paranthas
4 NGOs visited
3 jars of homemade peanut butter
2 girls with colds
1 tired traveller!
Countless times we were asked “From which country?”
Countless times we were asked if we were married (the answer’s always “yes”)
Countless cows in the middle of the road
Infinite joy upon arrival back at Purnata Bhavan!
And now, for some pictures!
The joy of waking up after another night on a train!
My attempt to take pictures out the window of the taxi. This is drivin through the Doon Valley.
More picture attempts--with crooked results.
Sunset in beautiful Mussoorie.
The view from our friend Susi's house
And the sky just kept getting better and better!
Okay, just one more.
Yeah, we lugged those backpacks all over India!
