I woke up this morning and realized that almost every dollar I have to my name is in a soft leather wallet in my back pocket. Come to think of it, they aren't even dollars, they're rupees. About 10,000 of em' to be exact, and no major assets or possessions except for my video camera, which was cheap as chips, and my Mac, which I left in Thailand. Nearly everything I brought out to South East Asia over 20 months ago, I've left behind or sold at the Sunday night market. I haven't changed my clothes in well over a week (for Jon I think, it's been longer). I brush my teeth, wash my face and exercise my mind everyday. I obviously haven't shaved. My skin is dark, my hands are calloused and my back is sore. But this, what I'm doing with my life right now, it's my favorite thing to do. It's a labor of love with no payment. And if you think traveling is not a labor than you should stay at the 5 star commercial resort where you belong. It's not about a new stamp in the passport anymore, it's about the life changing moments of culture shock, the unfathomable inspiration, the long distance friendships that survive on the memory of a few hours in a place you'll never be again. It's the academics of the world.
When I walk outside and absorb my surroundings, it's all I need. Regrettably, I know this feeling will pass, despite my efforts to keep it alive. For now though, money and material things don't hold the value of a sunset or an honest act, or a clear, open road. I'm both proud and a bit worried that when I do return to a Western style of living, that it won't make as much sense to me. There's a huge difference between physical happiness and spiritual happiness. The latter being more elusive. Most of us live in a state of physical happiness, and right now, at this moment, I'm not so sure that's for me. But damn, how fast things can change....
Some other things happened today too.
We gave the bikes a rest and spent the late morning cooking n' writing in the sun, out on Dorje's 12'x15' patch of grass. We hiked up to a plateau at about 4,600 meters, overlooking the village of Kibber and revealing another secluded village off in the distance. We had heard that there was a cable car that ran across to it so we set off in that direction. On the way we ran into a pack of local kids demanding chocolate. I gave em' the last of my candy and they hung out with us for a while, talking our ears off in a mix of English and Spiti dialect. It was almost 3:00pm when we found the cable car. The walk was longer than expected, on a dusty desert road. So much space around us- made me feel like a field mouse. Dorje had told us that the cable car was free and only took 5 minutes to cross the canyon. When we saw the bloody contraption we understood why it was free, but had a hard time believing that such a thing was used on a daily basis. The cable car was a metal basket rigged up as a pulley system that hung on a heavy chairlift wire. It was not electric. Once inside the basket, the single passenger had to manually pull themselves across to the other side using a guide rope.
Jon n' I sat down on the rocks and scratched our heads while applying the classic convincing conversation tactics that cause us to do the crazy things we do. If Matty Munro was there we would've been over that canyon and back by now, but the jam just wasn't in us today. No jam.
Before we walked away from it we were met by an Israeli named Eli, who was also astonished by the sight of the cable car. He sat down and pulled a violin out of his ass and played a glorious symphony tune. It set a pretty high bar for the most random moments I've experienced. We left him, still undecided about trying the cable car, and walked back to the village. About 2 hours later he strolled into Dorje's yard with the same chocolate mongering kids following him. We all went out onto the road and played with them until we heard the hurd of cows, yaks, sheep, goats and donkeys all being led back to the village for the night. It was an amazing scene as we watched the small population of villagers, both young and old, running to gather at the entrance road to help round up the slow stampede. This was totally everybody's favorite part of the day. Jon n' I joined in, running around with the animals shouting “Hyah!” Jon was even able to get on a donkey, which ran him up a set of stairs and then bucked him off. Smart ass. After all that excitement it was dinner time. One of the trigger reasons we were staying another night in Kibber was so we could try Dorje's momos. He told us they were special and that's all it took to convince us. They definitely were the best I've had. Best chili sauce too. I got the recipes for both. Afterwards we smoked charras with Eli and brushed our teeth under a fat, full moon.
Update: The website for the Serkong Kibber Homestay is up.
Update: The website for the Serkong Kibber Homestay is up.
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