Journal Entry 17
April 6th, 2003
"Sri Who?"
Been a while, I guess. I left off in Mysore, India...
I soon headed to Ooty, a town up in the Nilgiri Hills. The drive there was
through some national parks. It was an upward slog, as Ooty is at 2240m/7300'. I
had to stop often to relieve my Enfield's
lightly-smoking engine, and replenish the oil supply, which at times seems to
dwindle as quickly as fuel. Ooty was nice--an old British town in hills covered
by tea plantations, and the cool climate was a relief from the unbearable heat.
Then on to Munnar, another town in the hills, with Joachim--a Swiss guy--in tow.
The drive there was the most stunning I've seen in India. More national parks through
jungle (with elephants and tigers) on winding mountain roads seemingly "made"
for driving. Then to Kumily, on the edge of a wildlife preserve, where I saw my
first wild elephants, several herds of them actually (from a boat).
Also visited a spice garden...it was great. Imagine a 20-meter square, and then
almost all of the spices on your kitchen's spice rack, along with many of the
fruits in the grocery store, and more--all lying within that square, growing
naturally--quite an unusual thing considering where I'm from! The owner was
constantly picking leaves and fruits and buds...try this, try this, try this. No
wonder Colombus was looking for a shortcut to the spices of the East before he
bumped into America!
I then split for Madurai,
where I saw a huge Hindu temple covered with statues of pastel-colored figures,
and ate lots of Indian food and wandered the streets. Then to Kanyakumari, or
Cape Comorin, the southernmost tip of India. Can't go further. 4164 km on
my motorcycle from Delhi!
Moved onwards (nearly running out of fuel out in the boon docks as I left the
main road to do some exploring) to Trivandrum, a bustling city with nothing much
to do, but regardless, I spent some wonderful days there, ordering prescription
sunglasses and eating the southern Indian foods I've grown to love: idlis and
dosas and thalis...and I purchased a plane ticket for my next destination:
Lanka. Sri Lanka.
I haven't flown since July, and I've travelled at least 20000 km / 12000 miles
overland since then. But here there was no choice, as it's an island with no sea
connections currently. And I actually enjoyed the disjointedness of it. After so
many months of following a continued line from A to B to C, it's nice to make a
jump once in a while--kind of startling to the senses.
Anyway, Sri Lanka
has been torn by civil war for ages; the most recent cease-fire is now 13 months
old. Its capital, Colombo,
shows it: roadblocks and military bunkers and soldiers with machine guns all
over the place. Not all that inviting, so I left there and headed for the
beach...
Hikkaduwa beach, that is. Tried my hand at surfing again. Hung out with surfers
and wanne-be's like myself--played poker, listened to music, learned some Aussie
slang, even mini-golfed in the jungle. But beach really isn't my thing, so I
moved to the hills...
Kandy, that is.
The city is in a picturesque setting with a nice lake, the elevation's high
enough to be cooler, low enough to still have palm trees. Visited a temple that
supposedly houses the Buddha's tooth, walked around, ate fruit. Ran into Brett,
an Aussie that I had met back on Hikkaduwa, and we visited some botanical
gardens with an enormous fig tree. So of course he and I climbed it...which led
to this:
Angry Man: "Get down!"
Me: "Okay, hold on." (begin climbing down)
Angry Man: "Why are you up there?"
Me: "I didn't know it wasn't allowed."
Angry Man: "I TOLD you to GET DOWN!"
Me: (still climbing downwards) "I am! Do you want me to just jump?! Hold on!"
Angry Man: (again) "Why are you up there?"
Me: "There's no sign that says not to."
Angry Man: "It's common sense."
(whatever)
I left Kandy on my newly-rented, efficient little
125cc Honda motorbike (a stark contrast to my monster Enfield) and visited some ancient ruins...
A lot of them. My next four days, I put on 600 km / 400 miles or so, chasing all
over central Sri Lanka
solo. I saw some caves at Aluwihawe, a temple at Nalanda, ruins at Dimbulagala,
a ruined city complex at Anuradhapura, a temple complex at Mihintale (where I
almost got attacked by some monkeys), a 40-foot Buddha statue at Sasseruwa, and
received countless warnings from villagers about the dangers of the roads at
night due to wild elephants (especially if it's a single male elephant), before
seeing my first wild elephant on the road at night (a lone male)...
But then the highlights!...Sigiriya: a big rocky hilltop fortress rising above a
complex of gardens and small canals and jungle. Polonnaruwa: the former seat of
some kings of Sri Lanka,
a big network of temples, dagobas, and Buddhas. Ritigala: inaccessible stone
ruins back in the jungle, abandoned and alone and in a light mist, after a 12km
drive down a muddy dirt road, where I saw my second wild elephant (a lone male).
Aukana: sight of another huge Buddha statue, and where I met the people that
were to change my travel plans (after being warned it was too late to drive that
evening due to elephants--I slept at a villager's house). Yapahuwa: another
former hilltop fortress rising above the jungle, with a section of immaculately
carved stairway. And Arankele: the quiet ruins of a forest monastery complex,
where I dozed off on a stone wall under the shade of a tree, until it started
downpouring, forcing me to hide under the walkway over a moat, until that
started leaking like mad, and a Sri Lankan dude with an umbrella came out of
nowhere and brought me to an archaelogy department building, where I was served
tea and given shelter until the storm stopped.
What else? Got completely dumped on by rain every day on the cycle (while most
of the rest of my Sri Lankan trip was rain-free, of course). Broke down once.
Got back to Kandy
and found out a war started while I was gone. No one cares here. They've had
civil war for 20 years now, so fighting that far away isn't much of a concern.
(By the way, India
seems the same...they have enough troubles of their own.)
Then I hit the hills...to Haputale, a sleepy village over a mile high, with cool
nights and sunny warm days and no tourists. For four days, I read, wrote,
chilled at my guesthouse (where I had a balcony overlooking a valley thousands
of feet below--for $2.50/night), and walked to town once a day for lunch and
fruit (over the course of three days, I tallied my purchases: 2 papayas, 6
passion fruit, 10 mangoes--world's best!, 4 mangosteens, 1 custard apple, and 2
mystery fruits, all for a total of about $1.75).
After Haputale, I went to Adam's Peak, a big mountain (for Sri Lanka, anyway). The deal is that
you start climbing up these steps at about 2am, so you get to the top for
sunrise. There's lights and vendors all the way up the mountain. Then at the
top, depending on what you believe, there's a footprint of Adam (where he first
stepped from heaven to earth) or Buddha (when he visited here 2500 years ago).
Well, after all that walking, I really wanted to see this footprint, but there's
just a shrine and a guy who tells you it's 9m under ground. So I think it may be
a crock. I have plans for opening some places around the U.S. Few people know
that within Minnesota, there's the tree that Adam and Eve ate fruit from (and
even the skeleton of the dead serpent) and also the real place where--get
this--Julius Caesar first landed (he flew) in America (and people thought he
conquered only Europe). I'll disclose the locations of these spots after I buy
some real estate and set up some overpriced tourist shops.
Anyway, back to Adam's Peak: the clouds rolled
in a few minutes before sunrise, so lots of people bitched about that, but I
didn't care, 'cause you don't have to go halfway around the world to see a good
sunrise. Every one is good; most people just don't bother to watch them.
Thennnnn........I returned to Aukana, that village where I had been stranded.
See, while I was stuck there that evening, I taught an English class in place of
the Buddhist temple's high priest. They seemed to like me, and made me promise
to return. So I did, and liked my time there so much that I extended my stay in
Sri Lanka. In all, spent nine more days there,
saw my third wild elephant, slept at a little room in the temple most of the
time (which I shared with some of those weird kinda-creepy translucent
round-toed frogs you see on nature shows), visited some schools, taught English
to Grades 3-11 (different each day), bathed in the somewhat-stagnant pools or
the river with villagers (and always emerged a bit itchy), hung out with some
new Sri Lankan friends, learned to chew betel, and got invited places for meals.
It was really a rewarding experience, especially working with the students. In
addition to the teaching, I had lots of down time. I had a nice little quiet
spot in the jungle near the temple where I'd spend hours reading, writing,
napping, and thinking, hidden in my own world. Monkeys would come every day and
perch above me, sometimes only a few feet away...always watching what I was
doing with a strange, human-like curiosity.
I got Sri Lankan cooking lessons from my friends, so we also had an American
night: we made pizza (in a toaster oven) and pasta completely from scratch (they
had never tasted either) while listening to 60's music on my minidisc player.
Both turned out pretty well, despite the lack of the right spices. And yes, I
know they're both actually Italian, but they don't sell hamburger here.
Anyway, I flew back to India
this morning after sleeping on some chairs in the air-conditioned (!) airport
last night. So I'm a bit tired, but ready to make a move again tomorrow. My Enfield started (after 20
minutes of kick-starting, choking, and flooding) and is ready to roll (I hope).
India
is hectic, but it's good to be back. I love this place.
Miscellaneous Notes:
** I'm spending more and more time in ordinary places, dashing to "sights" in
between time spent relaxing in towns and cities where there are few tourists.
It's been a slow and gradual change that is quite different from the way I
started my traveling and have always traveled in the past.
** "Srinath went round the wicket to Gilchrist, bludgeoned through the covers
and then pulled over wide mid-on for four followed by a six 16 off over, Srinath
four overs for 33....Off spinner Harbhajan into the attack. Swept for four by
Hayden, 80-0, 15 extras, 10 overs....Gilchrist, aiming over midwicket, produced
a towering top-edge and caught off Harbhajan by Virender Sehway,
Australian-style, the ball almost escaping his hands, 57 off 48 balls (8x4,
1x6), 105-1." What the hell is this, you ask? This, this is the reason that
cricket will never be popular. The "Cricket World Cup" was last month, and it
was plastered all over TVs and newspapers of India
and Sri Lanka
(from which I got that excerpt). But thankfully, it's over now.
** Music. I have a minidisc player now. If anyone cares, my five most
listened-to albums since I got in in December are (in no particular order):
* 'Pet Sounds' (Beach Boys)
* 'Tone Soul Evolution' (Apples in Stereo)
* My own Magnetic Fields greatest hits compilation
* 'Black Foliage' (Olivia Tremor Control)
* 'Odessey and Oracle (The Zombies)
I'd highly recommend all of them, except maybe 'Black Foliage' which you won't
like the first twenty times, but which will then get better each subsequent time
after that.
** Haven't taken my Enfield
to a mechanic since my last email. Partly due to the fact I was in Sri Lanka for 4 weeks (during which time I left
it at a guesthouse in India,
where the rain rusted most of the exposed metal on the bike), and partly because
I just don't bother anymore. Sure, lots of things need fixing. But my new
philosophy is just to ride it until it doesn't go anymore. So what if there are
exposed wires hanging under the seat, the piston rings are shot again, it's hard
to start, the spline on the kickstart pedal is bad so it falls off all the time,
it's rusty, and my backrest got chewed up by a monkey back at the wildlife
reserve in Kumily, India.
That's it.
"When it was dark, I set by my camp fire smoking, and feeling pretty
satisfied, but by-and-by it got sort of lonesome, and so I went and
set on the [river] bank and listened to the currents washing along,
and counted the stars and drift-logs and rafts that come down, and
then went to bed; there ain't no better way to put in time when you
are lonesome; you can't stay so, you soon get over it." (-Mark
Twain, "Huckleberry Finn")
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