Odisha State: Beaches, Temples & Irrawaddy Dolphins

A lot of people ask us why we travel.  We never really have the right answer to capture all of the minute details that make the experience so rich and down right addictive.  We were thinking about this on a recent bus journey through the countryside of Odisha.  In a strikingly short amount of time we passed a host of interesting things: long mud houses with thatched roofs, a small boy playing in a large banyan tree, villagers harvesting the first rice of the season from the wet paddy fields, an overloaded rickshaw piled high with hay and people, an egret riding on a water buffalo, then the smell of burning trash fills our nostrils as the people around us speak excitedly in Odiya.  Are they arguing about the bus fare or just catching up on village gossip?  Do those huge gold ear and nose rings hurt as they stretch earlobes and nostrils?  Why does everyone chew paan if it turns your teeth so red and wears them down to nubs?  We feel crushed and hot as the bus money man loads more and more people on to the already packed bus.  Where are these people going to fit?  They crush in and join the mash of people already clamoring for space.  A bus is only full if there are five guys hanging out the door, but then again there is always space on the roof.  Traveling is like an adventure buffet for the senses.  Unexpected sights, sounds, and tastes abound, and one finds themself in interesting situations that may be uncomfortable for some (see: old bird or yuppie package tourists), but for us it's what we came for.  There's only one way to get even a glimpse of what it is like to be in a place, especially one like India, and that's to be there yourself; jammed with your nose in the armpit of the sweaty guy standing next to you and the boney legs of an old woman digging into your kneecap.


We have spent the last coupld of weeks in the Eastern state of Odisha.  We've been in and around Puri, which is one of four "dhams", the holiest Hindu sights in India, as well as a beach town.  Arriving from Calcutta, we settled into a beachside lodge to spend some days recovering from a case of Delhi Belly as well as soak up the sun.  The beach wasn't exactly pristine (trash, fecal matter, and a very unfortunate dog found washed up in the surf covered the sand), but hey, if you walked close enough to the tide line everything got washed away and you could pretend you were in a tropical paradise!

The Indian beach was a very different experience than at home.  You wouldn't find anyone in a bathing suit, oh no.  Large groups of women do wade into the surf, but dressed in full saris in all of the colors of the rainbow.  Camels and horses led by entrepreneurial Indians ply the beach for tourists hungry for good "snaps" to show their friends back at home.  Women carrying large baskets full of coconuts on their heads walk by heading toward the fishing village near our guesthouse, perfuming the air with the scent of rotting fish.  And of course women are doing laundry, the brightly colored saris laid out in the sand to dry.  We have noticed that women are always doing laundry.  It doesn't matter where they are or what they are doing otherwise.  Visiting a temple?  I'll just go ahead and wash my sari in this water tank.  Going to the beach?  Let me just scrub these shirts.

In Puri we also visited the mighty Jagganath Temple dedicated to an aspect of Vishnu, and when we say visit we mean we walked around the ten foot high wall that surrounds the compound.  Entry to this and many other temples here is permitted only to Indians, one of many ways that India makes you feel welcome and at home.  Outside the temple we saw funeral processions and thousands of pilgrims coming in and out of the narrow gate loaded with sweets and flowers for the god within.  The temple feeds about 10,000 people everyday.  The food is prepared in huge pots stacked one on top of the other and decreasing in size from the bottom to the top.  The owner of our guesthouse told us that all of the food is begun and finished at the same time, which is pretty amazing.  Rice is cooked in the bottom and largest pot, then dal, then sabji (mixed vegetables, and so on up.  It's sort of a functioning Indian food pyramid.  Unfortunately we never for the chance to try the food, but supposedly Jagganath fills it with an especially delicious flavor.

We also decided to rent bikes to visit the temples and beaches a little further afield.  I can only say (this is Amanda speaking) that it was a horrifying experience and I was scared for my life.  Colin loved it.

When we got tired of bumming around Puri, we hopped a bus up the coast to Konark.  The site is now three kilometers from the coast, but in the 14th century the amazingly carved temples grouped there were visible from the sea.  Early European merchants to India actually used the huge tower of the largest and most impressive temple to find their bearings while coming up the coast.  When the sea level moved away the temple was eventually abandoned and much of it covered in sand, until the Archaeological Survey of India dug it up again and rebuilt parts of it.  We checked into a quiet guesthouse with a nice garden and spent some time taking in the site, it's museum, and a strand of beach with much less pollution that Puri.  When we came back to our quiet little lodge we were talking about how peaceful it was there, when two tour busses filled with over 200 pilgrims from Rajasthan began to stream into the compound.  When people just kept coming, we asked the lodge owner where all of them were going to sleep.  He said that there were eight rooms free and walked off, as if that answered the question.  Needless to say, they slept everywhere, filling the guesthouse with the noise of cooking over charcoal fires, snoring coming from the strangest corners, and the ever present creak of the hand-pump for the well being worked.  It was a bit of a surprise that this happened both nights we were there, but it was very interesting to watch and talk with so many pilgrims.

Our next stop was Chilika Lake, India's largest lagoon, that lay about 100km down the coast.  We arrived in the evening and found that the only lodge in town was all booked, except for the most expensive room they had going for about $50.  It's strange how often that happens to us, we are beginning to suspect that it's a trick to get "rich" foreigners to pay up, but they held fast and we were on the street.  As we wandered the streets looking for anywhere at all to stay for the night a guy who owned a small grocery shack came out to us and said that his friend had a place.  The friend also owned a grocery shack and came out to show us a room in the building behind his spot.  It was definitely not a legit lodge, but more likely a room for visiting governmental workers to stay while in town on business, but hey, the room was sort of clean and there were two plush chairs to sit in, so we went for it.  The next morning we joined a boat tour to see some Irrawaddy dolphins that hang out around the fishing village where we stayed.  It was a great ride and we not only saw the dolphins, but also loads of other boats full of domestic tourists out for a bit of a ride, which was maybe more interesting.  There were a couple with five or six huge speakers lashed down to the narrow fishing boat and ten young Indian men dancing their hearts out to blaring Bollywood pop.  By the way, it was ten in the morning.

Back in Puri Amanda's birthday also ended up landing on a very auspicious date.  It was the day of a large festival celebrated all throughout India but different depending on the region.  The festival celebrates the first rice harvest and so the people make a type of rice pudding as an offering to the Gods. The pudding was made of dried crushed rice, nuts, coconut, milk and ghee all mixed together with cardamom and some other spices to make it taste amazing.  The owners of the hotel offered us some and told us stories of the local deity Jagganath and also about some of the local traditions in Odisa. Other than indulging in holy rice pudding we also celebrated with lots of other delicious Indian food, a walk on the beach and an Ayurvedic massage.  We found a bakery with some pretty tasty chocolate cake and cheesecake and lit of a pretty impressive flower candle that was a torch in the center and lit all the other candles on the pedals as they blossomed.  Oh, and it also sang Happy Birthday.  It's amazing the things you can find in India!

A sleeper berth from Calcutta to Puri.  You're packed like sardines in a tin box, but we've managed to sleep reasonably well.

Laundry drying in front of the fishing village in Puri.

Camel rides!!!  Too bad we couldn't find on on Amanda's birthday :(.

Masala Dosa, it's what's for breakfast.

Jagganath Temple, Puri.

Amanda staring down a street cow.

The Sun Temple, Konark.

One of seven little horses that pull the chariot shaped Sun Temple in Konark.

 

A clean and unpopulated beach, imagine that.

Sunset on Chilika Lake.  There were still lots of fishermen, although lucrative dolphin tourism has started taking over the town where we stayed.

Birthday Bug with her pyrotechnic candle.

Beautiful Bubaneshwar, our last stop in Odisha.

Chai, Coffee?! Into India: Darjeeling & Sikkim to Calcutta

This morning we saw two men on bicycles ride past us with about 30 live chickens attached to the front and rear, hanging upside down. The chickens were not happy. It's been interesting to see the treatment of animals and meat in both Nepal and India. Raw meat basks in the sun on market counters, whole goats hang from hooks at the front of stalls, and fish are filleted and chopped on the street corner, a lit incense stuffed into the gills of the next victim. Everything is out in the open, it's very different from home.

We are in Calcutta, a giant metropolis where small barefoot men pull rickshaws through the street by foot and the British era buildings are a lasting yet decomposing relic of the not so distant past. The notorious issues between rich and poor are definitely apparent here, but no more than other large cities in the developing world, at least from what we've seen so far.

Our journey into India was long, but actually a breeze compared to other border crossings we've had. We zipped up to Darjeeling in a shared jeep since the Toy Train, a Raj era small gauge railway that would zip English holiday goers to the cool hills for a break from the heat of the Gangetic Plains, was no longer running from Siliguri. Darjeeling at this time of year is cold and cloudy so we weren't able to see the famous views around us, so we spent our time going on long walks up and down the incredibly steep roads to see the sights. We visited the zoo which was actually well done with native species including the illusive snow leopard and red panda. The Himalayan Mountaineering Institute housed a museum with information and gear on display from famous Everest expeditions. It is also the place that Norgay chose to be cremated and there is a memorial to him there. We passed by old churches and mansions left by the British as well as a long standing Tibetan refugee camp.

From Darjeeling we visited Kalimpong for two nights which is another hill station but less populated and subsequently less set up for tourists. We went on a long walk to a monastery and view point which unfortunately took us through a large military base. We also saw a nice art gallery filled with pieces from local artists. Kalimpong also has a large Saturday market which we happened to be there for. We found Santa hats for sale and bought them, exchanging our normal hats for them as we walked around the market. The locals looked at us inquisitively, but most smiled and said, "Merry Christmas" - as if we don't stick out enough!

Venturing further north we went into Sikkim, one of India's smallest states sandwiched between Nepal, Tibet and Bhutan. Our first stop was Pelling which is set on a ridge with spectacular views of the Kanchenjunga massif. We were finally out of the clouds and got a view of the famous mountain scenery that this area is known for on our second day there.

We took a short walk out of town to the Pemyangtse Monastery, one of the oldest Tibetan Buddhist places of worship in Sikkim and still a lively sight today. The walk up was relaxing, we were mainly away from honking jeeps careening down the narrow roads, and the final approach lined with hundreds of prayer flags. By chance we had come on a good day; the entire Gompa was open to viewing and there was a large group of monks chanting as we surveyed the grounds. It made the already serene atmosphere all the more striking being there with a room full of monks chanting sutras in unison, punctuated by a cacophony of horns and cymbals every so often. There were thanka paintings, Tibetan Buddhist murals depicting religious matter, from many different time periods all over the walls on the ground floor. On the higher levels there was a museum with ritual objects and pieces of embellishment from the Gompa going back almost four-hundred years. There was also an exceedingly beautiful miniature stepped pagoda shaped mandala that displayed the Buddhist levels of existence. On the bottom were demons, then the earthly world, on the higher levels the more divine forces, and at the very top Nirvana could be barely glimpsed. There were also helpful gods descending via rainbows to the lower levels to aid beings on their paths to enlightenment.

Itching for some adventure and a way to stretch our legs we decided to do a 3 day trek around the valley which would take us to several places of interest including monasteries, waterfalls, and lakes. We set off for Kecholpari Lake going straight down the valley to the river and then straight back up again. It reminded us of our trekking days in Nepal except that this trail was not marked or easy to follow and we got very lost, hiking up to a ridge and then getting turned back the other way. After a meager lunch of puffed rice and dried chickpeas we walked along the road and finally arrived at the lake.

We stayed at a homestay for three nights which sat on a ridge above the lake in a Lepcha village, which was the dominant ethnic group in Sikkim before so many Nepalis migrated to the area about two-hundred years ago. We did some pretty serious relaxing there interspersed with some short walks around the nearby hills. Picking up the trail we hiked to Yoksum, a relatively small town that is the entrance to Kanchenjunga National Park. The trail took us through fields of cardamom and bamboo forests, climbing up and down along the trail. The following day we hiked the monastic trail to Tashiding which took us past three monasteries, one of which was completely destroyed by an earthquake. It was another long day of getting turned around, but we persevered arriving just as it got dark.

Tashiding is one of Sikkim's largest monastic complexes and is considered to be the holy of holies (or so says our guide book). A brightly colored mani wall and hundreds of prayer flags led the way to the grounds. The complex was populated by many monks going about their morning rituals or chanting in the main Gompa. We spent the morning appreciating the beauty of the complex that was founded by Guru Rimpoche, the man who brought Buddhism to Tibet, and getting ready for a long sequence of jeeps back to Pelling.

Back in Pelling and just in time for Christmas we checked into a nice room with a large balcony to view the mountains. Sikkim is also famous for their ferns, so we thought it would be appropriate to have a fern for a Christmas tree and we snuck one into our room. We had a relaxing Christmas day, eating copious amounts of goodies that were left in our Santa hats and sampling the local Sikkimise wine and whiskey, all from the comfort of our balcony. We sure missed home, but tried to carry on our traditions with fruit cake, "mimosas" (whiskey and fresh squeezed oranges), and even a Led Zeppelin fueled game of cards.

After some good lazy days in Pelling we headed for the plains, traveling to Suliguri and continuing on a night train to Shantiniketan. It was exciting to move on to an area more markedly different from the mountains and hills that we had been in thus far, and to get our first taste of Indian rail travel. There were many hundreds of people coming, going, sitting, sleeping, eating, and drinking tea everywhere we looked at the station and on the train itself. Everything moves relatively smoothly, though. You want some food and there just so happens to be a hawker right there.

We arrived in Shantiniketan early in the morning and walked through the busy town of Bolpur to find a place to stay. The rest of the day was spent walking the tree lined streets through clusters of large houses adorned with sculpture amidst well landscaped yards around the university that the town had been built around. In the early 1900's Rabindranath Tagore, a Nobel Prize winning Bengali artist, decided to take the farmland around his family's home and turn it into leafy refuge for artists. Today is still is a place where many young Bengalis come for a liberal arts education and many more come for a glimpse of some artifacts from the life of the most celebrated advocate of their culture in recent times.

The next day we headed out for Calcutta, where we find ourselves today. It is a lively city full to brimming with people and the resultant smog and noise that comes with them. It also has a definite charm, from the friendliness of the ever-present street food hawkers to the Raj era buildings that surprise you around a bend from a crowded bazaar full of spices, vegetables, live chickens, dishware, jewelery, basically anything. We are also enjoying the many museums that the city has to offer, although we are having a tough time finding them in the twisting streets full of so many delicious distractions!

A church in Darjeeling

A Hindu Temple in Darjeeling, looks like this one gets a little more use than the church.

This bear really wanted to eat all the tourists staring at him, too bad there was a big moat.

Hamming it up in the market with our new Santa hats. 

Colin walking through the cardamom fields on the way to Yoksum.

Tashiding monastery with the majestic mountains in the background.

One of the many rivers we walked down to only to cross and climb up again on our "low altitude" Sikkim trek.

Christmas brunch with improvised mimosas and the view from our balcony.

Santa found us all the way in Sikkim!  Celebrating Christmas with our beautiful fern/tree.

Handmade disposable chai cups litter the streets in West Bengal.

The Victoria Memorial in Calcutta.

St. Pauls Cathedral in Calcutta.

Calcutta is the only place in India that still has human pulled rickshaws.

Some faded grandeur in Calcutta.

Snacking our way through the streets of the city.