Monkeys chillin' on my balcony.

Mama and bald baby monkey, chillin' on my neighbor's balcony.

Many many monkeys, chillin' on everyone's balcony.

I never tire of monkeys.

My second scorpion this year...they are maybe the scariest thing there is!!!!!

The Magical Saraswati River in Mana Gaon, near Tibetan border.

Maha Saraswati!!

Nepali-style transport.

India's Last Tea Shop! (L to R: Usha, Omar, Madukhar)

It's God! No, it's a mountain! No, it's God!
(Badrinath)

Lola likes Mana.

Rooftop view of Badrinath town and holy Alaknanda River.

God is Everywhere.

More Badrinath

Simply Magic.

Yatra Mangalme Ho!

Early Monday morning I awoke just before 4am to prepare myself for the 12 hours car ride to Badrinath, one of the four major pilgrimage sites in the mountains around Hrishikesh.

I woke up nautious and with a bloated stomach. Seems my bronchitis had subsided just in time for my first bout (this year) with traveller's diahrrea. Undeterred, I packed all the warm clothes I could find and crossed the bridge to meet Omar and Usha, the Indian couple who so graciously invited me to accompany them on their journey.

Omar is a spiritual man (who isn't spiritual in Hrishikesh?!) who became a speedracer with a vendetta once we hit the road. Usha and I held our collective breath as he sped around the steep mountain corners at 70 km/h, honking incessantly and passing everything and anything that dared to take up space. Two hours into the journey I began vomiting.

These narrow mountain roads aren't for the faint of heart; several times I watched other passengers vomiting unceremoniously from car and truck windows, grateful at least that Omar stopped the car for me when it was my turn..

In my delirium, I found time to worry about Buddha. Buddha was in the trunk, tucked away in a box with some chapati (Indian tortillas).

The Buddha situation was finally remedied with a simple solution; a mouse box! I bought one (chuadan) in Rishikesh for 35 rupees and made some chapati for bait. It sat empty for almost two days before Buddha succumbed to temptation. Once I had him, I took him to the chai shop for one last evening of barjan (devotional singing) before we set off for the mountains.

My original plan was to liberate him in Badrinath, but I don't know much about mice and wasn't sure how the ride was affecting him, so in the end I released him early, in the mountain town of Joshimath. I thanked him for his company over the last month and he scurried off, a free mouse, to forge a new home in the holy mountains.

We reached the holy mountain town of Badrinath, elevation 3,000+ meters, shortly before 5pm. Omar and Usha told me to keep quiet and presented me as their niece, but guest house owners eyed me suspiciously - tall, fair, dressed in western clothes and doesn't speak Hindi? - and refused us lodging.

Then we met Madhukar, the young Brahmin owner of a cozy guest house who was more than happy to accommodate us all. Madhukar was charming, rich, and came from a "respectable" Brahmin family (the caste of priests); Omar and Usha were duly impressed and the three of them became fast friends. They spent the entire evening jabbering away in Hindi while I lay on the bed, drifting in and out of consciousness.

The following day Madhukar offered to take us to Mana Gaon, the last Indian village before the Tibetan border.

Mana was the undisputed highlight of the trip for me. Pristine snow-capped mountain peaks, the surreal colour of the Saraswati River, charming local peoples who astound with their physical and mental strength... I was reminded of Nepal and I felt the urge to storm the Tibetan border and disappear into the stark mountain landscape. The pictures, as usual, do no justice whatsoever.

Again we spent the evening with Madhukar, who I had begun to suspect. I am much less naive these days - ever since one baba came to my room to catch Buddha and instead tried to catch me - and I don't take Indian men at face value anymore, especially when they are too nice. Madhukar wanted to take me to Delhi, to Agra, to Thailand, to the ends of the earth...it was too much, and I began to imagine he was saying all the right things to my "auntie and uncle" in an elaborate ploy to get to me. But then, my thinking may have been compromised by the altitude.

The next morning we packed our things and loaded up the car. Madhukar made us breakfast and promised to come to Rishikesh the following week. We thanked him for his generosity (he did not accept payment for our room, insisting that we were his guests) and said goodbye. The ride home was much like the ride up; eleven hours of mad mountain roads, of which I was nautious for the last six. Now I understand what they mean when they say it's a "difficult journey."

Home again, I have thoroughly scoured my kitchen and settled comfortably back into my newly mouse poop-free home. My dear friend Atsushi arrived yesterday with miso soup and guitar in tow (!!!), and in two weeks time I will travel to Delhi to meet my cousin sister Cristina at the airport...also I have finally started meditating again and yesterday I even went to one yoga class! Seems things are going to be okay after all...

Hari Om, and a la prochaine!
LMA