India - A mixed bag that´ll draw me back

Well, India took me to darker depths than I´ve known before and I sure whined a lot, but in the end the experience was, dare I say, on the whole positive.

Our time volunteering at the Sacred Heart Ashram was nothing short of inspired. The people we met and became close to during that week: the Montanans who we volunteered with, Fathers George and Johnny, Brother Maneesh and all of the amazing residents defined kindness, dedication and good humor. The Ashram provides 300 needy people a home in a communal arrangement. An institution of that size brings images of deprivation and sadness to mind, but the Sacred Heart Ashram was all together different. It was a bastion of positivity, energy and happiness.

The Ashram organizes the residents into separate areas: children, both orphaned and parented, live together in one area, the adults are segregated into men´s and women´s homes. All of these people living on the same grounds gave rise to an incredible support network where there were plenty of mothers, fathers, grandparents, sisters and brothers to go around. As we wandered the grounds, we watched people talking and laughing together, sharing what they had and giving as they could. Kids were passed from arm to arm. No one lacked a playmate or confidant. The young men visited the older men bringing them energy and vitality. The place was staggering. The residents seemed to live a life that was more complete than most of us. The Fathers run the place on a shoestring but have created the most warm, safe, nurturing environment I have happened upon.

The vitality of the place was most apparent in the final celebration night that we shared with them. About once a month a community member sponsors a dinner for the Ashram and to celebrate the Ashram throws a good old fashioned talent show. On our last night we had the opportunity to participate. Our Ashram friends dressed a few of us in Saris and formal dhotis. Then we all, 300 of them and 12 of us, crowded into the men´s area for three hours of fabulous showmanship.

The young women performed traditional Indian dances, a little girl sang a precious duet with Father George, Brother Maneesh performed a rollicking Malayalam song, and 16 year old Vinod performed the best, get-outta-your-seat-and-cheer Bollywood dance number I´ve ever seen. He was hip thrusting and struting his stuff right in front of the life size statues of the Virgin Mary and Mother Theresa, priceless. In one of the raucous numbers we looked over to see the septuagenarian nun next to us grooving in her habit. Around 10 pm the show wound up and the limp kiddos in laps shook off sleep to stuff their bellies. A bunch of us catapulted onto the stage to dance and laugh for another half hour until the smell of Chapati and chicken curry tugged us off the dance floor and into the food melee outside.

In the end as I look back over the trip I see the peaks and not the valleys, there were so many great moments. The Ashram, the amazing overnight boat ride with our Montana friends on the backwaters of Allepey, the kind hosting of our friend Jameer in Fort Cochin, the life affirming hiking at Honey Valley Estate in Madikeri are all happy memories. Finally the crowning glory...surprisingly, the four days we spent in Mumbai. The city itself was a treat. We crushed into the trains with half of India, walked the wide sidewalks, appreciated the beautiful historic buildings, and lingered in the public spaces. But the reason we loved Mumbai so much was the people. We caught up with Canuche´s friend Rigzen from Ladakh and our dear friend Scot´s sister Lindsey and her fabulous circle of friends, and then there were all of the kind strangers who helped us navigate that big crowded city every day.

In the end the people of India won me over. I think my challenges in India were rooted in our cavalier approach to planning this leg of our trip. India wasn´t a country that I could simply wander through and enjoy, but it enveloped me once I tapped into the pulse of its people and pursued the beautiful mountains. Despite my earlier rants, I can imagine returning to India to volunteer, to explore her mountains, to eat more spicy food and chiefly to enjoy the lovely people.

Rebirth in India

The bus conductor wobbled his head to say "this is it". We jumped off the bus where a hand pump water tap, a few dirty bags of produce and a bomb shelter of concrete defined the bus stop. We looked around. A dark Indian asked "Honey Valley?"
Then he answered himself "Five minutes!" And scampered up the dusty track.
A half hour later a couple Mirhinda jeeps came down the dust trail in low gears with engines whining. A family of fifteen Bangaloreans tumbled out the back and piled into their waiting minibus. We hefted our packs and the dusty provisions onto the jeep´s roof rack, clambered in and headed up the rough road to the coffee plantation, Honey Valley Estates. The steep 3km track wound into the Western Ghats. The jeep jostled and whined, crawling up the slope. The jungle held the track tightly, limiting our view to tree tops and the rough road ahead. Suddenly the views opened to a valley of coffee plants surrounded by jungle. We bounced along through the dark green foliage loaded with ripe red berries.

The Estate is a coffee plantation first and a guest house second. The simple buildings were arranged on the hillside amidst explosive flowers of all colors. Courtyards were covered by multi hued coffee berries drying in the sun. We were welcomed by the sweet family of owners and steaming cups of creamy sweet coffee from the plantation. Suresh, the patriarch, handed us a worn green pamphlet of hikes in the area, ranging from an hour to full day affairs.

The estate can accomodate about 40 guests in rooms ranging from $5 to $25. All the guests shared communal veg meals with at least 5 nationalities crowded around the tables. There´s electricity from a micro-hydro generator and the water comes from a mountain spring just up the valley from the estate.

We finally found heaven in India! The jungle was intoxicating. The bird songs were deafening, particularly due to the absence of any other noise, a noticeable difference in a country of one billion people. We came for two nights, but stayed for four. We hiked the Western Ghats as much as our atrophied bodies could handle. Three days of hiking without setting foot in a moving vehicle or drawing a breath of exhaust was the rejuvenation we craved. We hiked alone, we hiked with friends, and on our final day we hiked with the most endearing trio of Honey Valley dogs. The trails led us through neighboring farms, across ridges, on elephant trails through the jungle, and up two nearby peaks. We fell into sleep every night serenaded by the jungle, wondering, are we still in India?

Hop on the Romanella Rollercoaster Ride

We've learned a thing or two about travel over the last 6 months. We'd happily share every nitty gritty detail with you, but for now I want to give you one crowning pearl of wisdom.

Our advice to the future us: once you embrace a long travel stint and officially say goodbye to your structured, planned, predictable, organized life it is a travesty to structure your route by purchasing all your tickets in advance.

One year ago I couldn't imagine (and I bet you couldn't either) that we'd love travel flexibility so much that we wouldn't know precisely where we'd be next month, next week, or even tomorrow. It is the ultimate break from our lovely life in Seattle. If fairies with wands could take us back in time, we would only buy the plane tickets for the first month, nothing more. Traveling has an organic nature. Our interest in one country, language and culture and the travel stories we swap lead us onto the next destination. Our overland journey through Turkey and the Middle East was so satisfying, so intriguing, so much more than we envisioned while sitting on our couch in Seattle. We loved seeing the subtle and sometimes striking changes as we crossed boarders to neighboring countries. Who knows where our route would have gone without plane tickets?

All of this is a preamble to our new plan. After a month of discussion and consternation and two hours of middle of the night Skype calls, we are pretty darn sure that we successfully changed our flight that was destined for Ecuador to instead land us in laid back tropical Panama.

Neither of us can recollect exactly why we bought a ticket to Ecuador and planned to travel through Peru and Bolivia. Though magical countries, Canuche has already visited them all and isn't excited to return yet. After our experience of landing in India when we weren't excited to be here, we decided to break out of the confines of our pre-purchased tickets and go where our hearts desire.

Over the next four months, starting February 26, we will make an overland journey from Panama to Austin, Texas, stopping in all the tantalizing countries between. We have dreams of Central America dancing in our head; language courses, salsa dancing, salsa eating, hiking, swimming in Caribbean waters, diving, kayaking, surfing. We're giddy over the decision.

Hopefully this new route will coax some of you out for a visit. We know only two dates about our route, we will be in Cabo San Lucas for Canuche's step-brother's wedding on June 7 and we'll get to Austin by July 1. Other than that, we've got an open slate. If you come visit, you'll help us plan another segment.

We'd love your advice if you've traveled in this neck of the world or know someone who has, we'd love ideas, recommendations and stories. Your help has been great at kick starting our India experience. Cheers to roller coasters and adventures.

Dates we know: Feb 15 fly Mumbai to London, Feb 20 fly to NY, Feb 26 fly to Panama City, June 7 celebrate in Cabo San Lucas, July 1 roll into Austin.