SIKKIM TRIP 2008

05 June 2008. Bagdogra—Kolkata via Delhi

2008-06-05T21:00:00.008-04:00

Getting to the Bagdogra airport
Finding an alternative itinerary to Kolkata
A Delhi airport adventure
A night at Kolkata airport

In the morning the bandh came to effect. That meant we would have to either walk from the hotel to the airport or search for a brave soul who would dare to defy the bandh and agree to drive us there. Somehow we found such a desperado, and he gave us a five-minute ride to the airport by the back roads.

Because of the bandh all flights to Kolkata were canceled. Wanchuk's help here proved invaluable: he talked to Kingfisher Airlines' manager, Mr. Santosh Rai, and he and his associate, Ms. Lama, helped me book two one-way tickets: from Bagdogra to Delhi on SpiceJet, and then from Delhi to Kolkata on Kingfisher Airlines. That would get me to Kolkata in the evening, and I would still be able to catch my British Airways morning flight to Washington, D. C. after spending a night in Kolkata.

Mr. Rai issued me a full refund for my canceled flight with a written explanation: Due to WB (West Bengal) bandh.

Interestingly enough, later it took me a long time to actually get the refund. When I inquired at Kingfisher Airlines what the problem was they were very apologetic and said that their system did not have the proper code for refunds caused by a bandh!

Having settled my itinerary, Sonam-la, Wanchuk, and I sat for a breakfast at the airport restaurant. They were kind enough to spend a few more hours with me until my departure for Delhi. I said my heartfelt Thank You and Good Bye to my hosts and boarded the plane.

When I arrived to Delhi the airport was a chaotic scene: an expansive construction was going on. I was told that my terminal was quite far away, and I needed to wait for “the blue bus” that would take me there. However, nobody could tell me where exactly that mysterious bus's stop was. When I asked a few passer-by's they all gave different answers, and then it became like a scene from a movie: several people were giving me advice at once, all contradicting one other: “Listen to me, I tell you the truth!”, “No, don't listen to them—they have no idea what they are talking about, they are only trying to take advantage of foreigners! Listen only to what I tell you!” etc., etc. My time was getting short, and the blue bus was still nowhere to be seen. Having found out the general direction of my departure terminal, I decided to push my cart on the side of the road and just walk there, which I did. It was rather hot and humid, and as I was sharing the road with cars, motorcycles, and bicycles, I was asking rare pedestrians whether I was on the right track. Finally, covered in sweat and dust, I reached the terminal where Kingfisher Airlines' staff greeted me and said that I had to hurry up to the check in counter. I made it! When I landed in Kolkata it was already evening time.

Because of the bandh and the associated flight disruption the domestic terminal in Kolkata was filled with people sitting and lying everywhere. Of course, there were no rooms available at the airport hostel, so I just walked over to the International terminal. In contrast, it was cool, quiet, and almost empty there. I spent reading a newspaper and thinking back on the past two months. In the morning I left for London and then Washington, D. C. My Himalayan journey came to an end. Indeed, that was a vacation of a lifetime.

Darjeeling signs

2008-06-04T21:02:00.011-04:00

See more photos at my Sikkim signs, BRO road signs, and Darjeeling signs photo albums.
Check out my Gangtok signs, Sikkim signs, and BRO—The mountain tiger of nation blog entries.

04 June 2008. Last day in Darjeeling

2008-06-04T21:01:00.002-04:00

At the hotel
Buddhist and Hindu shrines atop of Observatory Hill
Chowrasta and vicinity
Lloyd Botanical Gardens
Chowk Bazaar
Darjeeling Himalayan Railway (Toy Train)
Dhirdham Mandir
Hurried departure to beat the bandh

The second floor of the Main Olde Bellevue Hotel where we stayed featured a spacious and comfortable lounge with a terrace.

Our destination this morning was a group of shrines atop of Observatory Hill. This hill, sacred to both Buddhists and Hindu, used to be the site of the Dorje Ling monastery that gave the city its name. In Tibetan, ‘Dorje’ means a thunderbolt or a scepter, and ‘Ling’ means place. According to the legend, the lightning bolt of god Indra fell at a place where now stands the Observatory Hill.

The area of what is now Darjeeling belonged to the Chogyals of Sikkim until 1780, when it was annexed by the Gurkhas from Nepal. The East India Company asserted its control over the region in 1816 and then gave most of the land back to Sikkim. In 1828 two British officials came across the Dorje Ling monastery and decided it would be a good site for a sanatorium for British soldiers. In 1835 the Chogyal leased the then uninhabited land to the East India Company, and soon after the hill station was established.

On our way to the top of the hill we saw the Mahakala Temple in a small cave and continued upward. Having passed through the gates adorned by numerous bells, we entered the summit where both Hindu and Buddhists payed their respects in several shrines.

The place was overrun by monkeys.

I captured a scene of a mother protecting her baby…

…and then witnessed a rather sacrilegious handling of prayer flags by a troupe of mischievous monkeys.

Lofty spiritual matters notwithstanding, one also had to mind his step.

We then walked to the Chowrasta square, or The Mall, as it is also known.

As I already noted elsewhere, I was quite fascinated by the unusual way people of Sikkim and Darjeeling carry enormous bags or huge stacks of boxes with a rope that encircles the goods and widens into a band over the person's forehead.

Here a man carries a big stack of bricks that way.

Our next stop was Keventer's café featuring a nice view of the town and great scenery. We then stopped by Planters' Club Darjeeling, which, according to Wanchuk, was not what it used to be.

To find refuge from the city bustle we decided to visit Lloyd Botanical Gardens recommended by Lonely Planet. To get to the Gardens we walked through an area I found a bit sketchy. Finally, next to the huge pothole, we saw the Gardens entrance.

After we entered the gate the scene suddenly changed: the incessant city noise disappeared and gave way to the pleasant quietness of a tranquil refuge. The highlights of the gardens are formidable wisteria trees: planted in 1878, they broke through their glasshouse and stretched their trunks outside.

What spoiled the mood though was the view of a gigantic dump spreading over the nearby hill. Another disturbing sight were quite a few loitering youths sitting on the grounds and smoking illegal substances.

Having had some rest at the Gardens, we then headed to the Toy Train station by way of chaotic Chowk Bazaar.

Darjeeling Himalayan Railway, also known as Toy Train, is a World Heritage site. Having made its first journey in 1881, it is—amazingly—still operational. The station and the trains were quite charming, and I felt transported to the 19th century.

The last stop on our itinerary for the day was Dhirdham Mandir, a gaudy Hindu temple said to resemble the famous Pashupatinath Temple in Kathmandu.

Quite exhausted, we returned to our hotel only to find a worried receptionist who told us that Wanchuk's father tried to reach us many times and that we needed to call Gangtok right away. It turned out that tomorrow morning a state-wide bandh was coming to effect in West Bengal to protest the decrease in fuel price subsidies from the central government of India. My flight was not until the late evening tomorrow, so we had planned to spent another night at the hotel and leave in the early afternoon. However, since the bandh meant a total ban on traffic, we needed to leave Darjeeling immediately. I could not help but reflect on the strange symmetry: when we drove from Siliguri to Sikkim in the beginning of my journey we witnessed a demonstration threatening a bandh, and now, at the very end if my trip, the threat materialized.

It was already quite late. Fortunately, Wanchuk still had contact information of the taxi driver who brought us from Sikkim to Darjeeling. Wanchuk called him, and the guy arranged for a jeep to Siliguri with two drivers. We packed in a hurry, said our goodbyes to the friendly hotel staff, and left.

The drive was… how shall I put it… unforgettable. Our young drivers seemed worried and inexperienced. We had a flat tire near the Tung rail station. Using a mobile phone and a flashlight in the surrounding darkness we changed the tire. Wanchuk suddenly felt violently sick.

We continued our bumpy night ride down the rough and winding roads from the hills to the plains, and after more than three hours made it to Siliguri. There we met Sonam-la who had already arrived there from Gangtok with my luggage and checked the three of us into a hotel near the airport. I was very grateful to him but felt really bad that he decided to make this trip himself instead of sending someone else instead.

See photos at my Darjeeling photo albums.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

03 June 2008. Second day in Darjeeling

2008-06-03T21:00:00.010-04:00

The tale of two Nathmulls
Tea tasting: tea paradise on Earth
Nightingale Park
Himalayan Mountaineering Institute
Darjeeling Zoo
Mount Hermon School
Chowk Bazaar
Dinner at Glenary's

The main attraction of Darjeeling for me was its tea. Apart from family, friends, and music, a cup of good tea is one of the very few things worth living for, with cheese and red wine being the distant second and third. Yesterday, just near the entrance to the Rink Mall, I noticed a teahouse with a showroom for tea tasting. I remembered the name of the place as Nathmulls, and that was our destination this morning. On the way there, on Laden La Road, we saw another tea store named Nathmulls, and stopped by to check it out. While I was browsing the shelves Wanchuk asked the store owner about the eponymous store down the road. That innocent question unleashed the torrent of passion from the owner: it turned out that the second store's owner was his brother, and the two brothers were hotly engaged in a family feud: Nathmulls was their surname, and after they had a falling out and opened their different stores they could not settle on who had the rights to use the name. The dispute went all the way to court. To the best of my understanding, the store on the Laden La Road where we went first was called Nathmulls™, with the trade mark sign ™, while the store at the entrance to the Rink Mall where we were going next was called Nathmulls^®, with the registered sign ^®. I bought a tea cosy and a tea strainer at the Nathmulls™, and we continued to the Nathmulls^®.

Nathmulls^®'s showroom, named Tea Cosy^®, was spacious and tastefully decorated. Out of multitude of teas available I ordered six cups for tasting: two first flush, two second flush, one white tea, and one autumnal harvest. While I appreciate a good tea, before coming to Sikkim and Darjeeling I didn't know much about tea bush planting and tea manufacturing. When I was in Sikkim I asked Wanchuk's father lots of questions, since he spent seventeen years in tea business; and I also visited Temi tea garden and factory. All teas I ordered were excellent but I liked the somewhat stronger autumnal flavor the best; so before I left I bought a pack of Phuguri Autumnal. I know, I know—the most discriminating palates among you prefer the first flush but cut me some slack: I grew up drinking Ceylon tea that comes from the more robust variety of tea bush Camellia Sinensis var. Assamica, and I may not yet be able to appreciate the most refined flavors of Camellia Sinensis var. Sinensis that is cultivated in Darjeeling and Sikkim. Wanchuk, who was born in Darjeeling, ordered two cups of tea from the tea gardens he had grown up in.

Our next destination was the Zoo. The weather was still very foggy, and the whole city was shrouded in mist.

We stopped at the Nightingale Park.

As we continued down to the Zoo we saw some fine examples of colonial architecture and ironwork.

The Padmaja Naidu Himalayan Zoological Park shares grounds with the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute (HMI).

The HMI comprises a very informative Everest Museum, as well as the Mountaineering Museum and the statue of Tenzing Samadhi, who climbed Everest in 1953 and for many years was the director of the institute. I was surprised that the highest peak was referred to by its British name “Mt. Everest” (after the long forgotten Surveyor General of India in the mid-19th century) rather than by its traditional Tibetan name “Chomolungma” (Saint Mother). When we studied geography in the USSR we used the name “Джомолунгма” (Djomolungma).

For some reason there was a notable presence of Indian commandos and military police at the HMI grounds.

The Padmaja Naidu Himalayan Zoological Park is unique in that it is situated at a very high altitude: 2,150 m (7,000 ft). For comparison, the Himalayan Zoological Park in Bulbulay, Gangtok, is situated at 1,780 m (5,840 ft). The Darjeeling Zoo specializes in display and conservation of Himalayan fauna, including Siberian Tiger, Snow Leopard, Tibetan Wolf, and Himalayan Black Bear.

A short walk from the Zoo brought us to Wanchuk's primary school: Mount Hermon School. Founded in 1895 as Arcadia, with only thirteen girls as its first students, it became co-educational in 1930 and was renamed Mount Hermon School the same year. Its present estate, very impressive indeed, was purchased from Lebong Tea Estate in 1920. The boys hostel and the the swimming pool were bought from Grand Hotel and Mt. Everest Hotel.

Walking around the huge Mount Hermon School compound I could not help comparing it with the modest four-story building of School No. 470 on Butlerova 22 in Leningrad where I spent my 10 years of studying.

We then took a taxi to the Chowk Bazaar and walked around the area.

Exhausted, we ended the day by having an excellent dinner at Glenary's.

See photos at my Darjeeling photo albums.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

02 June 2008. From Sikkim to Darjeeling

2008-06-02T21:07:00.001-04:00

Leaving Sikkim
Taxi ride to Darjeeling
First evening in Darjeeling

Wanchuk's father gave us a ride to the taxi station in Deorali. We bought tickets, and after a while off we went to Darjeeling. We passed the grim sight of the Sikkim Rehabilitation and Detoxification Society with its Male and Female wings and set a course to Darjeeling.

As our stretched jeep taxi was climbing the steep and narrow serpentine road, the mist set in and then gave way to a pattering rain that seemed to be perpetual—like in Gabriel García Márquez's Macondo. Having left Sikkim behind, I couldn't help but feel certain emptiness and sadness realizing that my Himalayan journey was coming to an end.

Meanwhile, Wanchuk struck a conversation with the driver whose story was all too common: he got a university degree, I think in sociology, but couldn't find a job and was making his leaving by driving a taxi. Wanchuk wrote down his number, just in case.

We stopped somewhere and climbed out of the car. I walked up and down the muddy road under a drizzling rain and watched how a small kid with remarkably large hands was washing and cleaning our jeep taxi.

In Darjeeling we walked under the drizzling rain up to the centrally located The Main Olde Bellevue Hotel near the Chowrasta Mall. Having settled in, we went to the famous Glenary's and ordered Darjeeling tea, which came in a shiny silver pot. The tea was really good!

We then took a little walk through the narrow streets of Darjeeling.

For dinner Wanchuk chose the Dekeva's restaurant, and suddenly I felt like being back to Sikkim: one of the restaurant's windows featured an “Uprising in Tibet” poster while the other displayed the “Karmapa to Rumtek” sticker.

As we walked back to the hotel, we saw men and women carrying enormous sacks by means of a rope encircling the load and widening into a supporting band on their foreheads. Sikkim and West Bengal are the only places where I saw this style of carrying goods.

See photos at my Darjeeling photo albums.
Find more details in the Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

BRO—The mountain tiger of nation

2008-06-02T21:06:00.004-04:00

Border Roads Organisation (BRO) and its Project Swastik
Two kinds of BRO signs

No matter where you go in Sikkim you are bound to see the ubiquitous road signs erected by the Border Roads Organisation (BRO) charged with building and maintaining roads in the border regions of India. BRO's activities in West Bengal and Sikkim are proudly carried out under the aegis of its Project Swastik; a westerner, even an educated and culturally sensitive one, is somewhat taken aback when seeing a sign like “Swastik: Your companion in Sikkim” adorned by a fat red swastika.

BRO road signs seem to fall into two main groups: the ones in the first category extoll the virtues of the BRO and show a certain swaggering braggadocio…

…while the signs in the second category display admonitions and exhortations; some of them rather inventive, featuring puns, metaphors, and rhymes.

See more photos at my Sikkim signs, BRO road signs, and Darjeeling signs photo albums.
Check out my Gangtok signs, Sikkim signs, and Darjeeling signs blog entries.

Sikkim painted trucks

2008-06-02T21:05:00.010-04:00

See more photos at my Sikkim signs, BRO road signs, and Darjeeling signs photo albums.
Check out my Gangtok signs, Darjeeling signs, and BRO—The mountain tiger of nation blog entries.

Sikkim bricks

2008-06-02T21:04:00.003-04:00

See more photos at my Sikkim bricks photo album.

Sikkim signs

2008-06-02T21:03:00.008-04:00

See more photos at my Sikkim signs, BRO road signs, and Darjeeling signs photo albums.
Check out my Gangtok signs, Darjeeling signs, and BRO—The mountain tiger of nation blog entries.

Gangtok signs

2008-06-02T21:02:00.038-04:00

Software, hardware, wetware… but kidsware?	The abominable snowman is in vogue now
Proof of age required to check in?	Inexplicable…
It's all hypothetical…	At the post-office. No wonder they may go postal…
Accidental proximity?	Yeah… and then you've declared bankruptcy
In the Bakers Cafe's bathroom	Wow… how progressive: all officers must be women!
“… and to petition the government for a redress of grievances”	… & a kitchen sink?

See more photos at my Sikkim signs, BRO road signs, and Darjeeling signs photo albums.
Check out my Sikkim signs, Darjeeling signs, and BRO—The mountain tiger of nation blog entries.

02 June 2008. Last day in Sikkim

2008-06-02T21:01:00.008-04:00

Rimpoches' blessings
Saying goodbye to Sikkim

By 7:30 this morning I was at the main Martam House where the sense of anticipation was palpable: Gyaltsap Rimpoche, the most revered rimpoche in the Kagyu lineage, was to conduct the day's prayers.

He arrived shortly after 8:00, bestowed his blessings by draping the ceremonial khada scarves around our necks, and proceeded to the house.

After a quick meal the prayers commenced.

I received a parting blessing from Gyalton Rimpoche and I asked him a few questions about Buddhism. An engaging conversation ensued.

I then said my goodbyes to Wanchuk's aunts and mother and took my leave.

For the last time I traveled the now familiar path from the main Martam House back to Wanchuk's parents home. My two-months' stay in hospitable Sikkim was coming to an end.

See more photos at my Last day in Sikkim photo album.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.
Watch videos.

01 June 2008. Tao Center. Lhaga: last time

2008-06-01T21:00:00.021-04:00

Visiting the Tao Center
Last time in the Lhaga
Thanking the helpers

Among many causes Wanchuk's mother has been supporting is the Tao Center located on Tibet Road in Gangtok. Ms. Low, who runs this social organization, invited us to visit the Center. Ms. Low hails from Malasia; she explained the Center's mission and gave us a detailed tour of the facility; and then she and her staff treated us to a sumptuous lunch that boasted a great variety of foods and was completely vegetarian. Ms. Low made a point that a diet featuring vegetables and fruits of different colors ensured a well-balanced and healthy nutrition. Later I was surprised to discover that her message was virtually identical to the “5 A Day The Color Way” campaign based on the USDA- and HHS-approved Dietary Guidelines for Americans, 2000, which recommended to eat “fruits and vegetables in a rainbow of colors.”

Next morning we are leaving Sikkim for Darjeeling, so I took some time to do my packing. The plan is for me to leave the big bags here; and then someone, perhaps Nima, will bring them to Bagdogra the night before my flight to Kolkata.

In the evening I walked to the main Martam House. Tomorrow is going to be a very special day: H. E. Gyaltsap Rimpoche, one of the regents protecting the interests of H. H. the 17th Karmapa during his absence in Sikkim, is to conduct the day's prayers. I went up, took one last look inside the Lhaga, talked to one of the monks preparing new tormas, and snapped a few photos.

During the past few weeks I spent quite a lot of time in the Lhaga—witnessing the prayers, listening to the sound of Shapten, and making audio and video recordings. Whenever there, I felt a sense of tranquility, order, and serenity; like being in a spiritual refuge. (I wonder if this has anything to do with me being a refugee myself and many monks being Tibetan refugees too.) It was strange and a bit sad to think that come tomorrow, I would no longer be able to partake in the ritual. But then, doesn't Buddhism teach us that nothing is permanent?

Back at home I thanked Maya, Kunti, Lakhu, and, of course, Doma—who all made my stay so comfortable and enjoyable.

See photos at my Last time at Lhaga photo album.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

30–31 May 2008. Farewell dinners

2008-05-31T21:00:00.020-04:00

Affected Citizens of Teesta (ACT) on hunger strike
Rachna bookstore
Dinner at Flamboyance restaurant
Gya Kho (a chimney soup) at Hotel Tibet
Reminiscences on my two months in Sikkim

I spent the leisurely Friday morning at the main Martam House, having breakfast and chatting with Wanchuk's family. I then took a walk in the city. On Tibet Road, just across from New Modern Central Lodge, I saw a heart-wrenching but by now familiar sight: representatives of Affected Citizens of Teesta (ACT) continuing a hunger strike as part of their protest campaign against massive hydroelectric projects planned by the government of India in North Sikkim.

As far as Gangtok's sights were concerned, I had seen almost everything I wanted; but there was one place I still was curious to visit: according to Lonely Planet, Rachna was Gangtok's best-stocked and most convivial bookshop, featuring live music and jazz café. Once there, we found a very pleasant bookstore indeed, with a friendly owner, an eclectic selection of literature, and thoughtfully laid out space. I bought a book on thangka iconography.

In the evening we went to another Deorali restaurant named, for no apparent reason, Flamboyance. While I didn't notice anything particularly flamboyant about it, the balcony setting was perfect for the warm evening; the food, excellent; and the service, attentive.

My time in Sikkim was drawing to a close, and on Saturday evening my host family took me to the Snow Lion restaurant at Hotel Tibet for the farewell dinner. As a special treat, Wanchuk had arranged for Gya Kho, or “a chimney soup”, a traditional Tibetan meal that had to be ordered 24 hours in advance. Even though the restaurant looked grand, the atmosphere was rather intimate. Traditional Tibetan decor and a lively Saturday night crowd created a festive mood.

Gya Kho is a soup and an entrée all in one: the chimney-like bowl full of delectable ingredients is heated by the coals underneath. The waiter scoops out the rich contents from bowl and serves them on the plates. From time to time he adds more soup by pouring it from what looks like a teapot.

During the dinner we had a nice conversation and reflected on my two months in Sikkim. Considering how much I had seen, experienced, and was a witness to, it didn't seem like a long time at all. In fact, I wished I could stay longer, at least until the 49th day of Wanchuk's grandmother's passing to pay my respects to the family that was so incredibly kind and generous to me. Regretfully, that was not in the cards, and I had to leave this hospitable land in a couple of days. We finished the unforgettable feast with a dessert and cognac.

See photos at my Farewell dinners photo album.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

29 May 2008. Samdruptse, Namchi, and Solophok

2008-05-29T21:00:00.025-04:00

Drive to Namchi via Singtam
Guru Rimpoche statue in Samdruptse
Khandu Wangchuk – thangka artist in Namchi
Shiva Mandir in Solophok

Among the few sites I am still to visit is Samdruptse, near Namchi in South Sikkim where a gigantic statue of Guru Rimpoche was erected in 2004. Also in Namchi lives Khandu Wanchuk, a prominent thangka painter whose works adorn my hosts' house. Since I was interested in purchasing a thangka, Sonam-la graciously offered to drive us to the south region and to introduce us to the artist. We are also going to visit the National Association for the Blind, commonly referred to as “the Blind School”, located near Namchi. This is an organization dedicated to the welfare of visually handicapped children of Sikkim, and for many years Wanchuk's mother has been volunteering her time, raising money, and helping the Assocition in all kinds of ways. When Pem-la learned that we were going to the Namchi region she told us to visit the school and bring some food for the kids living there.

Along the road I spotted quite a few endlessly inventive BRO signs. When we went to North Sikkim I missed many fine signs, so this time I asked to stop the car every time I saw anything remarkable.

We reached the town of Singtam that sported a rather precariously looking building with a proud sign reading “King George Academy”, crossed “the weak brdge”, and entered South Sikkim.

The picturesque road took us past Tarku back to the Temi tea estate we visited just a few days ago.

We stopped along the way to buy fresh produce.

We arrrived at Samdruptse around 14:00. Samdruptse's claim to fame is a 40 m (130 ft) high statue of Guru Rimpoche (Padmasambhava) who inroduced Tantric Buddhism to Tibet, and who is the most revered saint in Sikkim. The statue's foundation stone was laid by the Dalai Lama in 1997, and the gargantuan statue was unveiled in 2004.

After entering the complex we were amazed to see an astonishing number and variety of moths and butterflies. I had heard Sikkim boasted a vast array of exotic butterflies but this was the first time I saw such an abundance of these fascinating insects. Moths of all kinds of shapes and colors were sitting on the walls, steps, and windows at the staircase leading to the monument entrance.

On the back side of the monument there was a little area filled with festive prayer flags fluttering in the wind.

The first tier of the complex features a row of kitschy but endearing lions standing as if atlantes supporting the towering statue.

The statue itself was covered with scaffolding, and the painters were readying it for the new tourist season.

Next we headed to the Blind School, officially known as the “Jawaharlal Nehru Memorial Institute for the Handicapped” run by the National Association for the Blind – Sikkim. We met with the principal, Mr. Jeevan Rai (who is blind himself) and the staff. The bell rang, and children filed to the dining hall. Wanchuk explained who we were and why we were there. We brought some snacks for the children. After the meal Mr. Rai and the music teacher, Mr. Pema Tamang, decided to put on an impromptu performance for us. All the pupils moved to the music room; some pick up instruments, other sat on the floor and delivered a nice performance despite such a short notice.

We have recorded a part of this very moving concert.

Our next destination was the studio of Khandu Wangchuk, a well-known thangka artist. I had been thinking about purchasing a thangka for a while. I visited a few shops and show rooms in Gangtok but what I saw there didn't quite satisfied my taste, and now I had the opportunity to to see Khandu Wangchuk's artistry. The master was very gracious: he showed us to the show room located in his house, offered us tea and cookies, and let me check out the thangkas hanging on the walls. I instantly liked his style, and chose the thangka that symbolized long life. I also wanted a painting that would depict the wheel of dharma but he didn't have one available at the moment. Since I was in no hurry I commissioned one for future delivery. Now both of them grace a wall of my apartment. We then toured the artist's workshop where his assistants were working on pieces in progress.

We then headed to a place I knew nothing about: Solophok, a few km off Namchi, where a massive construction project was under way to erect a complex of Hindu temples leading to another gigantic statue, that of the Lord Shiva, with the height of 33m (108ft). Perhaps, the authorities hope to turn Namchi into the major pilgrimage and tourist site, with two enormous statues facing each other across the river.

It was getting dark as we were touring the construction site of the future Shiva Mandir. We drove back to Namchi to have a dinner and then headed back to Gangtok. This was a very eventful day indeed.

See more photos at my Samdruptse, Solophok and Blind kids concert photo albums.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

28,30 May 2008. Domestic help. Kho-chen

2008-05-28T21:00:00.015-04:00

On domestic helpers
Kho-chen — traditional ceremonial Bhutia outfit

Many middle-class households in Sikkim employ domestic helpers. When I first encountered them I was not sure how to feel about the institution: is this a remnant of the old aristocratic past? Or is this a way to offer a job and make a livelihood to those who otherwise would have no means of support? How was I, a guy who grew up in the supposedly egalitarian Soviet Union, to feel when Doma, a housekeeper, brought me a cup of tea every morning or when Kunti, a helper, swept my room?

I knew, however, that I should reserve my judgement until I better understood the situation “on the ground”. When we traveled to Kewzing we visited the families of Doma and Nima and of Kunti and Maya, and I got a glimpse of the hard life in the countryside. My impression was that for the rural poor who have no education and no connections it's very hard to find a job. In this situation, domestic work could be as good as any, especially if one is lucky enough to find an employer who treats you with respect, pays you well for your service, and even helps you, among many other things, get an education and find another job, as has been the case with the helpers in Wanchuk's family.

Doma	Doma and Lakhu
Kunti	Maya

Bakhu is a traditional Bhutia attire that looks like a loose cloak or robe fastened at the neck on one side and near the waist with a silk/cotton belt. Unlike an ordinary bakhu, which is plain black or gray, a ceremonial bakhu, or Ko-chen, is made of brightly colored silk and is complemented by a west, a round hat, and colorful embroidered boots. I was curious to try on this traditional attire, and Wanchuk's family graciously lent me a beautiful outfit for a photo shoot.

Who was my inspiration? (Click on the cardinal's portrait to find out.)

See more photos at my Wearing kho-chen photo album.

27–28 May 2008. The sound of Shapten

2008-05-27T21:00:00.013-04:00

Phodong lama's setup
Musical instruments and Tibetan Buddhism
Recording the sound of Shapten

I spent Tuesday and Wednesday mostly at the Lhaga of the main Martam House listening to the 29th and 30th day of Shapten (funeral rites) for Wanchuk's grandmother and making sound recordings. This week the prayers were performed by monks from Phodong Gompa I just visited a few days ago. Wanchuk's cousin, Gyalton Rimpoche , the grandson of the departed, lead the prayers. Gyalton Rimpoche usually resides in Sherabling monastery.

As is customary, Phodong lamas again prepared their tormas from scratch and adorned the altar and the entire Lhaga with fascinating paraphernalia.

One of the things I wanted to do while in Sikkim was to make sound recordings of Buddhist liturgy. It is well known that for many confessions in general and for Tantric Buddhism in particular “ religion is sound. ” Music is fundamental to the Tibetan Buddhist ceremony and is inseparable from it. In preparation to my trip I read up on Tibetan monastic music; I cannot describe ritual musical instruments better than The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians: Tibetan music does (emphases mine):

Tibetan music, §II: Monastic music

3. Instruments.

Monastic rituals employ a range of musical instruments, consisting of idiophones (bells, various kinds of cymbals, wooden semantrons), membranophones (small hourglass drums with whipping clappers, large double-headed frame drums), and aerophones (long and short trumpets, conches and oboes). The Tibetans themselves distinguish between instruments made to resound (’khrol-ba), instruments played by striking (brdung-ba) and instruments played by blowing (’bud-pa).

Instruments made to ‘resound’ by shaking them include the small handbell, dril-bu (Sanskrit: ghantā), whose proportions and decoration are defined in canonical treatises. It is held in the left hand and represents ‘wisdom’ (shes); it forms a pair with the ritual rdo-rje sceptre (Sanskrit vajra), held in the right hand and representing the ‘skilful methods’ (thabs) necessary to attain enlightenment. The rdo-rje and dril-bu derive from Indian traditions and feature prominently in the iconography associated with many Buddhas, divinities and religious masters.

The small damaru hourglass drum may have its body made of two half-skulls with the tops set end to end, known as a thod rnga, but it is more usually made of wood or plastic. Its two skins are struck alternately by the impact of pellets […]. A special kind of damaru is known by the Tibetan term cang-te’u. Large cymbals with a small central boss, known as sil-snyan, are played with a horizontal movement; their crystalline sound is considered as proper for the offering of sound and in the worship of peaceful (zhi-ba) deities. The flat bell gshang, used by the Bonpo, corresponds to the Buddhist dril-bu.

Instruments sounded by striking include the big, double-headed frame drum known as the rgna. It is found in different sizes and two forms: the ‘offering drum’ (mchod-rnga), suspended from a wooden stand and struck vigorously with a pair of straight sticks; and the ‘hand drum’ (lag-rnga), so called because of its handle, held in the left hand and struck with a cross-shaped stick […]. Many legends tell the story of its origin. The large cymbals with a voluminous central boss, called sbug-chal or rol-mo and clashed with a vertical movement, are also considered ‘struck’. Their loud sound makes them suitable for the worship of terrifying deities (drag-po), and in dge-lugs-pa and rnging-ma-pa monasteries the chant-master uses them for guiding the other performers. Small ting-shags cymbals, whose resonance is very specific, are rarely used in communal rituals. The wooden gandi semantron, the length and proportions of which are defined in scriptures translated from Sanskrit, was formerly used to summon the monks for various activities but today is employed only to call them to the communal ceremony of the confession of sins held once or twice a month. In other circumstances it has been replaced by a gong (mkhar-rnga).

Instruments played by blowing are prominent in ritual music and are always played as pairs of identical instruments. Conches are known as dung-dkar (Sanskrit: śankha), and are a symbol of the proclamation to the world of Buddhist law. They summon the community to certain ceremonies, and their sound mingles with that of the sil-snyan and mchod-rnga in music played to accompany offerings. The task of blowing them is often entrusted to young novices. Trumpets ‘of the legs of men’ (mi rus-pa’i rkang-gling), made from human femurs, are often replaced by metal substitutes with bells in a variety of shapes. On these are played short phrases that have names (when the instrument is mentioned in the text of a hymn or as part of the instrumental ensemble) referring to the number of times the player takes a breath, for instance ‘breathing three times’ (gsum-’bud), ‘breathing five times’ (lnga-’bud).

The telescopic metal trumpets known as dung chen or rag-dung are of different lengths, from about 1·70 metres to 3 metres or more […]. They are played in association with drums, cymbals, the bell and the damaru, during processions and in the interludes marking the different parts of a ritual. The repertories of different monasteries generally comprise a dozen pieces, known by descriptive names and associated with particular deities or rituals.

The shrill sounding oboes known as rgya-gling […] consist of a wooden pipe with seven equidistant finger-holes, a metal mouthpiece and a richly ornamented metal bell. They are played using a circular breathing technique that allows the performer to play continuously for over half an hour. The composition of pieces for rgya-gling, within a range that never goes beyond the octave, is based on the linking of melodic formulae indefinitely repeated and varied.

And now the dictionary pages have come to life: the instruments I had read about were right here, in front of me, ready to be played in the real ritual about to start.

Kangling (rkang-gling) — “femur trumpet”: it used to be made out of human femur bone	Gyaling (rgya-gling) — “Tibetan oboe”
ZOOM H4 — a handy recorder	Radung ( dung-chen ) — a telescopic metal trumpet
Gyalton Rimpoche with damaru — hourglass rattle hand-drum: it used to be made of two human half-skulls. Sherabling lama with sil-snyan — large somewhat quieter cymbals with a small central boss, struck horizontally. Used for worshipping to peaceful deities (zhi-ba)	Sherabling lama with rol-mo (sbug-chal) — large loud cymbals with a voluminous central boss, struck vertically. Used for worshipping to wrathful deities (drag-po)
Gyalton Rimpoche with dril-bu — a small handbell. Paired with dorje, dril-bu is held in the left hand and represents wisdom	Gyalton Rimpoche reading pecha and chanting

Lag-rnga — standing drum struck with a crook-shaped stick held in the right hand	Phodong lamas playing gyaling
Phodong lamas playing radung	A radung can reach 3 meters (yards) in length

As I mentioned elsewhere , it is challenging to record the liturgy because of the wide dynamic range: while the sound of radung, gyaling, cymbals, and bells is extremely loud, the monk's chant is quite soft. Nevertheless, I have done my best and during these two days recorded several hours of Shapten. Here is a small 7-min fragment:

Lunch gave me an opportunity to dump the recorded music from the ZOOM H4's memory card to my Mac's hard drive and reformat the card.

Prayers resumed after lunch, and I continued my recording session. In the late afternoon Wanchuk stopped by the Lhaga for a few minutes with his nephew Karma Wanchuk.

The prayer finished about 18:00. The monks wrapped their pechas, put down their instruments, and collected used tormas. And I downloaded the afternoon recordings to my Mac's hard drive.

See more photos at my Shapten: day 29 & 30, May 2008 photo album.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

26 May 2008. Another day at Deorali

2008-05-26T21:00:00.006-04:00

Haircut at the Raj Beauty Parlour in Deorali
Lunch at the New Castle hotel's restaurant Porky's
Purchasing thangka iconography books at the Tibetology Institute's bookshop
Blue Sky Optical Centre in Gangtok

It had been been more than two months since I had had a haircut, so it was time for me to get one. Wanchuk suggested that I could also have my hair dyed, which I thought was an amusing idea. With a little hair I had left it didn't really make a difference whether to look balding and graying or just balding but what did I have to lose… maybe a few more hairs ☺. Wanchuk said that the best barber shop was located in Deorali, so we took the ropeway down there.

The reputable Raj Beauty Parlour was just a short walk up the street from the ropeway station. Apparently, the place was quite popular: we had to make an appointment even for this Monday morning, and when we came in Wanchuk spotted a local politician having his hair done there. The proprietor, Shri Sultan Ali Raj Khan, or Mr. Raj for short, was very friendly and highly professional; he asked me what color I was going after and laid out my options: either he could use a darker shade, available “out of the box”, or he could match my natural color, which would require him to blend several stock tones. He explained that the only disadvantage of using a blend was that the dye would not last as long as a stock tone. I said it was not a problem, and he then started trimming my hair. I noticed that he thoroughly sterilized his instruments with a flame. Mr. Raj mentioned with a chuckle that being pretty good with blending actually got him in trouble with his L'Oréal supplier: because he could blend just a few basic tones to match a wide variety of shades he wasn't buying as many nuanced color-blend formulas as they would like to sell. Having finished my haircut, he prepared the mixture, applied it, and let me sit for about 45 minutes for the dye to work through the stubborn grays. Meanwhile he turned to Wanchuk's hair.

For Wanchuk, this haircut was a bittersweet conclusion of a story that I found hilarious but, I suppose, he did not. Before coming to Sikkim he grew out his hair and then splurged $100 on a hair styling session at a fancy Japanese hair salon in DC to look fashionable before his many relatives and friends in Sikkim. Well, what do you know—the first thing they said was that he needed a haircut! Oh boy… Anyway, he continued to grow his hair for a couple more months until it started to look really shaggy, and now he decided to finally have it trimmed.

Now, get this: my whole session, with the haircut, custom tone blending, dyeing, washing, etc., cost me a whopping $9 (nine!) bucks. Wanchuk's trim was about $3. I felt a bit sorry I didn't have more hair for Mr. Raj to show off his mastery. I used to, but… Sic transit gloria mundi.

1979

1990

2008

My cousin's wife asked me to buy Neem oil if I happen to see it. We stopped by the Atreya Ayurved shop just a few blocks up from the Raj Beauty Parlour. They didn't have Neem oil but I bought Neem Guard, which is supposedly good for your immune system and many other things. I also bought Asthmin, an ayurvedic medicine that, among other ingredients, contained mercury and sulphur(!).

We then headed back in the direction of the ropeway station and had a lunch at the Porky's restaurant in the New Castle hotel. Excellent food and service; and a very pleasant, classy yet relaxed environment!

Since we were in Deorali we took this opportunity to stop by the Namgyal Institute of Tibetology again and browse its bookstore. I bought a couple of books on the iconography of thangka (Tibetan scroll painting). The lady behind the counter offered me to pick a few issues of the famed Bulletin of Tibetology as a gift. Even though the collection is now available online , it is always nice to have the real thing; I picked a few issues and thanked the lady.

Back in Gangtok I stopped by the Blue Sky Optical Centre to pick up my prescription dark glasses. As I mentioned elsewhere , the glasses they had made for me before we set out for the Goecha La trek were a real life saver. A little history is in order here. A few months before coming to Sikkim I got a new prescription and ordered two pairs of glasses, a regular and a dark one, at the Sterling Optical store on M street in DC. They made the regular pair just fine but, for some reason, could not get a lens for the dark pair—for a few months! They promised to make it on the day of my flight to Sikkim. Wanchuk was driving me to the airport, and we stopped there on the way but still they didn't manage to get the lens; instead, they put in an approximate one that wasn't giving me the full correction. Needless to say, I was quite frustrated by Sterling's less than sterling performance.

I think it was Chiphel, Wanchuk's sister, who recommended me the Blue Sky Optical Centre on Tibet Road. I gave them my prescription, and in just a few days I had my glasses made—perfectly. Now, I have a rather complicated prescription, with different diopter' strength and different astigmatism in each eye, but apparently that was not a problem for the Blue Sky Optical Centre's opticians, Farouq Ali and Firojkhan. And the whole package—the frame, the lenses, and the work—cost me less than $50! I was so happy with the first pair that I ordered another one, with dark gradient lenses. Kudos to these guys!

Blue Sky Optical Centre is very centrally located on Tibet Road, just across from the New Modern Central Lodge, so I was passing it practically every day. Often I would stop by and chat with Firojkhan when he wasn't busy with the customers.

See more photos at my Deorali photo album.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

25 May 2008. Phodong, Labrang, and Phensang

2008-05-25T21:00:00.015-04:00

Unimpressive Mangan viewpoint
Colorful Phodong Gompa
Alexandra David-Néel
Most unusual Labrang Gompa
Encounter with history at Phensang Gompa

We got up pretty early and decided to visit Mangan viewpoint. Having learned from our yesterday's experience that walking along the busy highway is less than desirable, we hired a taxi to get us there, and that was the right decision indeed. The viewpoint itself was not too bad but the littered path that led down to it left me with the distinct impression that nobody cared to maintain the site properly.

We then came back, picked up our stuff, and set out for Gangtok via the route that would take us past three historic gompas: Phodong, Labrang, and Phensang. Jigmi arranged for a car with a driver to take us through; the bright little car, though appeared tiny, was quite comfortable and possessed an excellent maneuverability.

We left Mangan shortly after 11:00, and at 12:15 we arrived to Phodong Gompa. This monastery, belonging to the Karma Kagyu school of Tibetan Buddhism, holds a special place for Wanchuk's family because his late grandmother was from this area. Just a few days ago I witnessed Phodong lamas make tormas at the main Martam House when they came there for a week of Shapten prayers. In fact, one of the lamas invited me to visit Phodong, and I hoped to find him there. However, this Sunday the monastery looked deserted: most monks were away visiting their families. The remaining novices occupied themselves with playing a baseball-like Guli Danda game when a big wooden stick strikes the smaller one like a bat strikes a ball.

When we approached the temple I could not help but notice its remarkable palette of strikingly bright primary colors. Even though Lonely Planet frets over metal gratings “marring” the gompa, I didn't find the metal decorations to be out of character.

I was fascinated by the architectural and sculptural details outside the main building, …

… as well as by a truly remarkable sign that admonished the reader not to engage in such “prohibitated misbehaviours” as—among other sins—magic, dice, video games, and a somewhat mysterious MMS.

Once inside the temple, we came upon The Sidkeon Tulku and Ani Alexandra David-Néel Memorial Hall. Alexandra David-Néel (1868–1969) was a legendary explorer, the first European woman to visit Lhasa in 1924. However, it was in Sikkim where in 1912 she first met the 13th Dalai Lama who was there at the time, fleeing the Chinese invasion. While in Sikkim, Alexandra met crown prince Sidkeon Tulku and visited all great monasteries of Sikkim.

When she was in Lachen, Alexandra David-Néel met the great Lachen's Gomchen (hermit). He was an impressive figure wearing a five-sided crown, a rosary necklace of 108 pieces of human skull, an apron carved of human bone, and a magic dagger. In 1914, while on one of her journeys throughout Sikkim, Alexandra met Aphur Yongden , a young Sikkimese monk who became her lifelong traveling companion and later her adopted son. Together they moved to a cave hermitage in the mountains near Lachen, 3,900 meters above sea level. From there, even though it was forbidden to visit Tibet, they managed to cross into Tibetan territory, meeting the Panchen Lama in Shigatse in 1916. When the British authorities learned about this—Sikkim was then a British protectorate—Alexandra and Yongden were expelled from Sikkim the same year.

Alexandra's camp near Mt. Khangchendzonga. Sikkim, 1912
© Centre Culturel Alexandra David-Néel

With crown prince Sidkeong Tulku. Sikkim, 1912
© Centre Culturel Alexandra David-Néel

The Lachen's Gomchen in front of his hermitage. Lachen, Sikkim
© Centre Culturel Alexandra David-Néel

Aphur Yongden
© Centre Culturel Alexandra David-Néel

Alexandra in front of her hermitage. Lachen, Sikkim, 1914–1916
© Centre Culturel Alexandra David-Néel

The amazingly bright and pure color scheme that first caught my attention on the outside of the temple was evident everywhere inside as well.

We climbed the stairs and enjoyed the tranquil view from the balcony.

Having come back down we saw a whole battery of tormas drying on a ledge outside the temple.

The weather was unstable: periods of sunshine were followed by sudden powerful rains. After the shower the pure, triumphant colors of the main temple and of the lamas' houses seemed especially bright and shiny.

We came back to the car and in less than 10 minutes arrived to Labrang Gompa. I have to say that from the architectural point of view Labrang Gompa is the most unusual I have seen in Sikkim:

its very masonry is completely different from that of other Sikkimese monasteries I've seen;
there is a small wooden balcony on each side of the temple—a feature I haven't seen anywhere else;
the band of red brick that is typically located very close to the main roof runs unusually low here; the band itself is adorned by inset stone medallions;
similar inset medallions run on the first story level throughout the whole perimeter of the temple; and
the shapes, designs, and colors of doors, balconies, and windows are all most unusual.

The Gompa sits on a gentle hill and is surrounded by lush, verdant, and peaceful landscape. Labrang truly is one of the most atmospheric and serene monasteries of Sikkim.

I would venture to say that while Sangachoeling Gompa is one of my favorites as far as its interior is concerned, Labrang Gompa is one of the most impressive in terms of its exterior.

It was time to have lunch. We climbed back to the little car and continued our journey. Our driver was extremely good; the ride was comfortable despite sometimes challenging road conditions.

We stopped in Phodong for a lunch of momos.

It was about 15:00 when we arrived to our final stop on the way to Gangtok, Phensang Gompa. The compound looked deserted: like in Phodong, the monks were away visiting their family on Sunday, and the main temple was locked. Crossing the yard we went to the secondary prayer hall that looked old and quaint, with the ceiling of blue beams, crumbling murals on one wall, an old altar in front, simple boarded floor, and a yellow lattice running in between red wooden columns opposite the murals. Gentle sunlight was coming through the yellow grid giving the old hall the feeling of warmth and tranquility.

Wanchuk asked a young boy if there was anyone around to show us inside the main temple, and the boy said that the only one around was an old groundskeeper. He then ran out to fetch him, while we approached the Gompa and took some photos. The most unusual feature of the Gompa was a metal grille with eight lucky signs.

Sernya (golden fish)	Dug (parasol)
Palbheu (endless knot)	Dhungkar (white conch)
Pema (lotus)	Bhumpa (vase)
Choekyi Khorlo (wheel of dharma)	Gyaltsen (victorious banner)

Meanwhile the old man appeared. Wanchuk asked him if we could see the main prayer hall but the man said he didn't have the keys. We then started heading toward the compound exit while Wanchuk and the old man continued talking in Sikkimese. Suddenly the man's tone of voice changed; I turned around and saw his eyes lit up and his whole demeanor transform: he became quite animated. It turned out that he had great respect for Wanchuk's grandfather, and he voted for him in Chogyal's time, when Martam Topden was the leader of the Sikkim National Party. These elections must have taken place before he became Senior Executive Councillor, thus the groundskeeper was referencing the events that happened some time in the 1960s, more than 40 years ago. We returned to the main temple; he unlocked the door and let us in. Priceless old thangkas were hanging from the ceiling of the large and quiet main prayer hall. We walked around the hall, paid our respects and stepped outside.

We said goodbye to the old groundskeeper and headed back to our car past a couple of traditional Sikkimese houses.

This has been a great day: we have seen and learned so much! It was already getting dark when our driver safely delivered us to Gangtok. The sky looked like it was going to rain; Wanchuk was worried that given the weather and the road conditions it might not be a good idea for the driver to go all the way back to Mangan, and he offered the guy to stay overnight. The driver, however, decided to go back. Hopefully, he reached Mangan without any problems.

See more photos at my Phodong Gompa and Labrang & Phensang photo albums.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

24 May 2008. Lachen to Mangan

2008-05-24T21:00:00.010-04:00

Morning walk over Lachen hills
A road from Lachen to Mangan
Pushing a boulder off the road
Waterfalls and BRO signs
Walk in Mangan and surroundings
Mangan sights and signs
Sunset and dinner with Jigmi

I felt disappointed that I couldn't see the the beauty of North Sikkim because of the sick cover of clouds obscuring everything in the past few days. I knew from my Goecha La experience that my best chance of seeing the mountains would be to get up before dawn when the clouds were still sitting in the ravines and sun was not hot enough to make them rise and obfuscate everything in sight. Since I was determined to take my chance I got up before 5:00. My effort was indeed rewarded: the sun was shining, and for the first time I was able to see the surrounding mountains with their showy peaks. I set out for the Lachen Gompa situated on a commanding hill above the town.

From the highest spot at the Gompa compound I watched in amazement the magnificent view that was unfolding before my eyes: lush green landscape was spreading as far as eye could see against the backdrop of bright but somewhat forbidding mountains threatened to be hidden by the approaching blanket of thick clouds.

When I left the Gompa and returned to the track to Lachen I noticed a small trail diverging from the road up the hills. It was still very early, and I decided to explore the area. Up and up I went while spectacular views were unfolding with every turn of the trail.

Suddenly I saw a cow in the middle of what appeared to be a forest growing in a shallow ravine. Instead of grazing the animal was plucking leaves from a tree, giraffe style. These mountain cows are really something!

Eventually the trail brought me to someone's farm. I turned around and started walking down, past the monastery and back to the hotel where everyone was still sleeping.

I felt thrilled and fortunate that finally I caught a glimpse of what North Sikkim has to offer when the visibility is good.

About 8:30 we left Lachen. While our fellow travelers and our guide were going back to Gangtok, Wanchuk and I would stop in Mangan. We would spend a night at Jigmi's, Wanchuk's brother-in-law, place, and then return to Gangtok via Phodong. The North Sikkim Highway was taking us across severe BRO-built bridges festooned with colorful prayer flags, past countless waterfalls rushing from the mountaintops, gigantic ferns spreading their leaves over the glistening moist rocks, and wild strawberries on the side on the road.

In some places the highway was rather narrow, and it was fun to watch trucks pass each other.

Because of the terrain and erosion, many roads in Sikkim are vulnerable to landslides and falling rock; sometimes a road can be completely covered by high water. BRO works on widening, strengthening, and straightening the most dangerous sections of the highway. To do that, they have to blast the surrounding rock. After we passed a particularly challenging stretch of the highway the traffic came to a complete halt: a huge boulder fell smack in the middle of the road, probably as a result of a blast, and a military bulldozer was trying to push it off. Every one was watching the free show.

It took the solder-driver only a few minutes to push the boulder to the edge of the road; for a few seconds it teetered there tentatively and then tumbled down the slope.

BRO signs reminding the driver of the dangers and challenges of the mountain roads were everywhere.

We then came to a tremendous waterfall, so large that the bridge built over it looked like a dam of a hydroelectric power-station.

As we were approaching Mangan I was getting more and more fascinated by endless creativity of BRO slogans and admonitions, as well as by BRO's occasional boasts (misspelled as though they may be).

We reached Mangan shortly before noon and said good-bye to our guide Prakash, our driver Jojo, and the New Zealanders.

Jigmi soon came by and joined us for lunch. Afterwards we went to his house and dropped off our stuff.

Having rested for a while, we decided to take a walk and headed back to the town. The 31ANHWy goes straight through Mangan, and the incessant flow of heavy trucks made this walk less than pleasant, to put it mildly.

Once we reached the central area we walked a few steps down to the main market street. Even though it was a Saturday afternoon the street was full of activity.

Mangan, proclaiming itself to be “The Large Cardamom Capital of the World”, appears to be a rather diverse town: Bhutias, Nepali, and Indian Muslims are all well represented there.

We passed the market street and headed to the hills beyond. Wanchuk told me that the land on the other side of the river glistening down below was protected Lepcha territory, and as such was off-limits to the foreigners. The peaceful scenery of green hills and blue mountains imparted the sense of tranquility. We passed a guy sitting on a large rock outcrop, and then a farmer with his son.

We continued wandering about the hills and meadows. The rural surroundings, with grazing goats and fluttering butterflies, were so quiet and serene that it was hard to believe the busy highway was just a short distance away.

We saw an ungainly building looming at the edge of the highway, and climbed back up there.

Walking back through the town we were surrounded by a flock of Nepali children who wanted to be photographed. Interestingly enough, there is a cultural difference between Bhutia and Nepali children: the former seem to be brought up to behave in a much more reserved and ceremonious fashion.

Mangan is full of interesting signs.

We started heading back to Jigmi's house.

At home we brought up chairs to the porch and set there watching a peaceful sunset over the magnificent mountains. During this whole long day the weather was simply perfect.

Afterwards Jigmi prepared a dinner and we had a nice conversation over the meal.

See more photos at my Lachen; N Sikkim Hwy and Mangan photo albums.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

23 May 2008. Tsopta Valley. Thangu. Lachen

2008-05-23T21:00:00.008-04:00

Best bathroom window view ever
Tsopta Valley
Thangu
Waterfall hike
Lachen Gompa
Say chan evening with locals

Hotel Blue Pine may not be the most luxurious lodging in the world but our room featured what could easily be the most breathtaking view out of any hotel's bathroom window.

The real pearl of this part of North Sikkim is Gurudongmar Lake, one of the highest lakes in the world. Unfortunately, foreigners are not allowed to visit it, and we headed to the nearby Tsopta Valley instead.

From time to time Jojo had do slow down and negotiate his way through the herds of horses and dzos.

Tsopta Valley makes for a pleasant walk, with blooming rhododendrons and other flowers making the scene pretty. Wanchuk spent some time assessing whether the Valley was a good place for hang-gliding. The weather was comfortable but still a bit foggy, with visibility quite limited. By the end of our 1.5-hour walk it began to drizzle.

We climbed back into our Tata Sumo and drove to the nearby tiny Thangu.

In Thangu I bought a red-and-black knitted “Sikkim” hat from a local vendor.

The fog was getting denser. We walked around for a while and left Thangu shortly after 13:00.

On the way back to Lachen we stopped by a local attraction: a wreckage of one unfortunate Jeep—a reminder that those countless BRO signs that admonish the driver to be careful do have a point, after all.

Shortly before reaching Lachen we stopped for a little hike by a waterfall.

In Lachen, a 15-minute walk uphill brought me to the Lachen Gompa.

We spent the evening at a small tavern in the middle of the town. Our New Zealand companions didn't seem to like it there too much but Wanchuk and I had a good time sipping say chan and talking with the locals about their lives and ours. Interestingly enough, Lachung and Lachen, as well as many other villages and towns in North Sikkim, have a unique form of democratic self-governance where the pipon (headman) is elected every year.

See more photos at my Tsopta Valley photo album.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

22 May 2008. Yumthang Valley & Zero Point. Lachen

2008-05-22T21:00:00.020-04:00

Yumthang Valley
Zero Point
A bunker field
An old bridge at Yume-Samdong
Locked out at the hotel
Reflections in Lachen

The point of coming to Lachung is to use it as a base for reaching Yumthang Valley, 23 km further north. Early in the morning we climbed into our Tata Sumo and after a short drive reached the Valley about 8:30. The road took us past misty mountains covered with lush, dense, and seemingly impenetrable blanket of verdant vegetation occasionally slashed by sharp incisions of cascading waterfalls.

Yumthang Valley must be a spectacular sight when one can see the towering mountains that surround it. Today, however, the weather did not cooperate: the landscape was shrouded in mist, fog, and clouds, and we didn't see much of anything.

Having walked at the floor of the Valley for a while, we wandered over to the other side of the road where a herd of black yaks was peacefully grazing behind a fence.

We left Yumthang Valley shortly before 10:00 and headed towards Zero Point, so named because that is where 31ANHWay, the main travel artery of Sikkim, ends. As we got out of the Valley the road started winding, first rather gently but then to a degree I had rarely seen: from above, our path looked like a giant serpent flexing its mighty coils.

A trip from Yumthang Valley to Zero Point took only about an hour but because of the serpentine road it felt much longer. We finally crossed another one of those geometric, functional, military-looking bridges built by BRO and after the last steep stretch of the road arrived at our destination. Zero Point, 4,800 m (15,748 ft), is popular with Bengali tourists who have lots of fun playing in the snow. Having grown up at a place where it was not unusual to have a blanket of snow cover the grounds for five months in a row every year, I found it quite amusing to watch the genuine excitement the white substance caused among the children and grown-ups alike.

In about half an hour we left Zero Point. Driving down through the flurry of snowflakes we saw a bunker field—a reminder how close we were to the border with China.

In fact, it was exactly when we went to North Sikkim that an old border dispute between India and China flared up, with China laying claim to the Sora Funnel valley in North Sikkim. As we traveled throughout the North we often saw convoys of large military vehicles going up north.

Our next destination was Yume-Samdong, a place featuring hot springs justifiably characterized by Lonely Planet as “highly overrated”.

While our fellow Kiwi travelers chose to enter a nondescript building, strip down, and immerse themselves into the murky sulphury liquid that filled a dimly lit concrete pit, I wandered over to a picturesque blue-banistered old bridge adorned by an inordinate number of prayer flags fluttering in the wind as if they were a flock of kites trying to fly away; Wanchuk soon joined me.

At 13:15, having spent about an hour at Yume-Samdong, we left for a four-hour drive to our final destination, Lachen. An hour before we reached it we made a stop at a state-run Angora rabbit farm.

In Lachen we checked into the Hotel Blue Pine; like the Hotel Golden Fish in Lachung, its top floor was unfinished. I went for a short walk to see the town. When I came back I found our travel companions sitting in our room drinking beer with Wanchuk. While we all were in the room, someone saw a key sticking outside (we didn't take it in) and locked the room—presumably thinking nobody was in there. Wanchuk climbed out of the window and demonstrated his Spider-Man skills by undertaking a rather risky walk over the narrow ledge perched over high above the steep slope the hotel sits on. In the process he dropped one of his flip-flops but reached the ground safely. Having found a hotel staffer with the key, he then unlocked us.

I felt like being by myself, so I left for another stroll. Twilights were falling, and the low-hanging clouds were settling in the furrows of surrounding mountains to spend a night comfortably nestled in there. Something was bothering me. Did I overstay my welcome? Upon reflection, I realized that Chaam at the New Ralang Gompa probably was the culmination of my stay in Sikkim. Was it a mistake then to pile up more impressions after that, creating something akin to information overload? Or was it simply that all sites in the North were virtually invisible because of the dense cover of fog, and that stood in sharp contrast to our Goecha La trek experience, where I was so fortunate to enjoy spectacular mountain vistas? Was there any other reason? A long walk finally quieted my mind, and I returned to the hotel.

See more photos at my Yumthang Valley photo album.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

21 May 2008. The road to Lachung

2008-05-21T21:00:00.014-04:00

Your big BRO
Seven Sisters Waterfall
The land of waterfalls
Arrival to Lachung

Today we are leaving for our trip to North Sikkim: Lachung, Yumthang Valley, and Lachen. Sangmoo from New Modern Central Lodge has organized this trip for us. Prakash is our guide, Jojo is our driver, and we share our Tata Sumo (an Indian jeep-like vehicle) with two fellow travelers from New Zealand. On our way back we plan to split from the rest and visit Mangan and Phodong on our own.

The trip started not very auspiciously: Prakash forgot our paperwork/permits and had to go back to get them. The road to the North is the same well-traveled 31ANHWay; it climbs up and down following the banks of the Teesta river. The landscape is picturesque, with a multitude of waterfalls, large and small. From time to time the road crosses bridges built by civil engineers from the Indian Border Roads Organization (BRO); a monochromatic, severely functional look of these structures contrasts sharply with colorful prayer flags festooning their railings. BRO activities in the Himalayan region are conducted as part of Project Swastik. Somewhat jarringly to the Western eye, prominent read swastikas set against bright yellow background proudly adorn the ubiquitous green BRO road signs.

Shortly after 11:00 we reached the Seven Sisters Waterfall, so named because it comprises seven separate cascading segments.

We stopped for lunch. In our dining room I could not help but notice a number of bizarre low seats covered by what looked like a wig made of yak hair.

As we continued North, the road became steeper and more dangerous.

Driving in Sikkim requires considerable skill and experience

The look and feel of North Sikkim are very different from that of West Sikkim. The North is truly a land of waterfalls: gigantic and tiny, roaring and murmuring, cascading far away and bubbling under the tires of your jeep eroding the road, they are everywhere. The air is moist, and you feel as if you saturate your very lungs with the surrounding mist, fog, and clouds. The mountains are not as dramatic as in West Sikkim but the whole scene somehow feels more secretive and mysterious. I am sure, however, that if there were no dense fog over the landscape my perception would have been quite different.

We arrived to Lachung shortly after 17:00 and checked into the still being built Hotel Golden Fish.

I went for an evening walk across the suspension bridge over the Yumthang River.

See more photos at my The road to Lachung photo album.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

20 May 2008. Thangka Master Artist

2008-05-20T21:00:00.005-04:00

Gangtok palace monastery
Shapten continues
Lharipa Ganden Lama—Master Artist

This morning I joined Wanchuk's father for his energetic morning walk. As usual, Sonam-la and I had a substantive and engaging conversation: this time we argued about merits of the death penalty. As we were passing by the palace complex, he asked me if I had been inside and was surprised when I said I had not. We then went inside the compound and walked around the palace monastery.

Tsuklakhang, the palace gompa, is a Nyingmapa monastery; Sikkim Chogyals belong to that school of Tibetan Buddhism. The monastery used to have living quarters for the lamas but now it does not.

Shortly after noon I stopped by the main Martam House where Shapten is in its 22nd day now. Phodong lamas are gone, and Rumtek lamas have taken over. The exquisite altar that I photographed the evening before yesterday looks different now: naturally, all the implements are being used during the ceremonies.

I did a little bit of sound recording when the prayers resumed after lunch and then came down and took some pictures of Wanchuk's cousin Gyalton Rimpoche with Chiphel's son Karma Wanchuk. The indefatigable Gylaton Rimpoche keeps a watchful eye on the entire complicated operation of coordinating the religious services, and he will be doing so for the whole 49-day period.

I've been thinking about buying a thangka—a devotional scroll painting in Tibetan Buddhism, and Sonam-la suggested that we paid a visit to the most famous Sikkimese traditional artist and scholar: Lharipa Ganden Lama. He is a true living legend and has been awarded a title of Master Artist, a sign of recognition akin to that of being a National Treasure in Japan. We spent about an hour with this remarkable master at his new house that was being built. He showed us his invaluable works and commented on the artistic and religious significance of being precise in rendering the sacred images. Looking at the masterpieces of the true master afforded me the opportunity to begin learning what the real high-quality thangka painting was like, so that I could attempt to distinguish between mass-produced copies and the authentic works of art.

See more photos at my Gangtok sights photo album.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

18 May 2008. Ropeway to Deorali. Sari shopping

2008-05-18T21:00:00.026-04:00

Gangtok ropeway
Beshal Nepali restaurant in Deorali
Shopping for sari at the Lal Bazaar
Rumtek lamas' tormas

Today we took a ropeway to Deorali—a suburb of Gangtok. I had previously been to Deorali to visit the Namgyal Institute of Tibetology but then we drove there. In my opinion, the ropeway is definitely the best mode of transportation in Gangtok. It runs from Tashiling Offices in Gangtok to Chorten, Deorali. The ride is fast, there is no pollution, and the views are breathtaking. The customers are mostly tourists with kids, and to accommodate their need to take photos and videos the cable cars actually pause for a couple of minutes in the middle of the ride—up and down swinging adding to the passengers' excitement. Given the ever increasing number of cars in the area, it seems that it would make sense for the city government to promote the ropeway among the locals as a viable alternative to driving rather than to use it only as a toy for tourists. However, this is currently not the case.

In Deorali we wanted to find a certain well-known Nepali restaurant but it seemed to have gone out of business, so Wanchuk asked around, and a police officer suggested Beshal Bar & Restaurant as a good alternative. She was kind enough to show us a way. And indeed, Beshal did not disappoint: it was full of local people (which is always a good sign); the food was excellent; and service, attentive.

We walked up back to Gangtok along the National Highway 31A (31ANHway), and that was certainly not a good idea: climbing up after a plentiful lunch was hard, and the pollution from the incessant traffic on the highway did not help either. There was some livestock grazing along the highway: I wondered if people, both the owners and consumers, were concerned about the level of led and other contaminants that milk and meat of those animals would contain.

Before I left for Sikkim my friend Natasha had asked me to buy a sari for her. Not an easy task for someone who does not care much about shopping nor knows a first thing about saris. Fortunately, Wanchuk's sister Chiphel came to the rescue: graciously, she agreed to help me. I had done my home work though: in my previous visits to Lal Bazaar I had written down the IDs of many sari shops at the multistoried shopping center (each shop there is identified by a number). When we came up from Deorali we met with Chiphel and went shopping. She was the one who did all the negotiating, and for that I am eternally grateful. The final price was more than reasonable. Chiphel also helped me buy small souvenirs for my coworkers. Later, she even sewed a skirt for my friend out of the sari material we bought! At times I am just overwhelmed by my hosts's hospitality and their willingness to go the proverbial extra mile. When Natasha received the sari fabrics and accessories she was very happy with our choice.

It's been a week since the Phodong lamas came to Martam House. They will return to their monastery tomorrow. Meanwhile, Rumtek lamas have arrived, made new tormas, and set up the altar for tomorrow's service.

See more photos at my Deorali and In the Lhaga photo albums.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.

17 May 2008. Himalayan Zoo, Gangtok

2008-05-17T21:00:00.010-04:00

Today we went to the Himalayan Zoo. It is located in Bulbulay, about 3 km from Gangtok. We drove past some check post and then saw in a rear view mirror a bunch of people yelling and gesticulating. It turned out that we took a wrong turn and found ourselves on the road to the Nathu La pass (to Tibet). Since foreigners are not allowed to travel in that direction, these good people wanted to alert us that we were going the wrong way.

At the zoo we were joined by Wanchuk's sister Chiphel, her son Karma Wanchuk, and a couple of his friends.

The spacious and picturesque zoo is spread over the area of more than 200 ha of mountainous land. Visiting the zoo makes for a very pleasant outing.

Himalayan palm civet	Leopard cats
Golden pheasant	Silver pheasant
Silver pheasants	Rivaling peacock pheasant :)
Himalayan red panda	Himalayan red panda

In the evening we went shopping for a few household items and walked back through the main thoroughfare, pedestrian-only M G Marg, pleasantly illuminated and full of people.

See more photos at my Himalayan Zoo photo album.
Check out Wanchuk's blog entry for the same day.