Ladakh, day three

Spinning prayer wheels at a 1,000 year old temple on the Indus River. 

So now that I have time (it's 9:30 pm here) and loads of pictures to download of course this Internet cafe is running at turtle speed. Plan foiled. I will try to squeeze some in, patience provided, but this really sucks because I have 4-5 insane videos and hundreds of pictures. Words may have to do.

I've already written how beautiful it is here and I am constantly saying how crazy things are. Well, the crazy bar was raised yesterday. The trip to Pangong Lake was insane. It was a five hour trip, mainly because we had to scale two mountains on the twisty-turny, none rail having road ever made, then through this wintery pass before going back down through several picturesque valleys. Scaling the first mountain took over an hour, as the road doubled-back on itself four or five times. On the way up we saw a herd of wild yaks (got pictures) and far-off mountain goats (no pics). The changes in climate was extreme - shorts and t-shirt weather when we started but after a few hours we were even with the snow caps, the road obscured by the clouds. We had a snowball fight when we stopped for tea at the (purportedly) highest cafeteria in the world. Going down the pass we saw huge herds of sheep and pristine mountain rivers, all amid the most stunning, rugged landscape you can imagine. Pictures can only tell part of the story. I only wish I could get videos on here, but I will save that for another time. But how about this:

Here's the road doubling back three times, with some wild yaks thrown in for good measure. 

Stunning views throughout. And yes, this is my camera. I could make a calender, easy.

If you look closely you can make out the road. Yeah, no rails. 

Pangong Lake. Again I have loads of pictures but the five minute load time for each pic is killing me right now. 30% of the lake belongs to India, the rest to China via Tibet. There must have been 10 military bases along the road, though I must say the military here is still very primitive - aluminum huts, a lot of trucks, and campfires. 

Other Thoughts
Since I have been thoroughly thwarted in getting more pictures up my humble thoughts will have to do for now.

As I explained in another post, Ladakh is known as a crossroad for the world, and you can really see it in the people. They are very beautiful; a homogenization running from full-on chinese/tibet to dark, southern indian, with every feature combination in between. They are rugged like the land, but the women especially continue the Indian trend I've seen, toiling fields and hauling wheat (I think) on their heads in the most colorful garb imaginable. The men? Not so much. Another trend I've noticed is that most of the men - both here, way up north, and in the south - wear western clothes, mostly jeans and t-shirts. This is something to ponder. I don't know if the woman stay traditional by choice or by necessity. I will ask our tour guide, a very affable chain smoker who is always shaking my hand and holding it way more than is comfortable.

There's an interesting crowd here. Adding to the local mix are mostly young travelers, for the most part a hippy-ish backpacker set. I've heard russian, hebrew, german, and french, and many of the restaurants advertise all of the above cuisines in the window. The local food is only okay, as opposed to everything else I've tasted in India. I'm actually been trying to take a break from the Indian food. Tibetan food seems to be bad chinese. Today I had the absolute worst version of french onion soup I've ever had, but seriously - this white man can only do so much roti (flat bread), paneer, and curry.

We are staying at a guest house, which is basically Ladachi for bed and breakfast. It's quite comfortable, including the woman who runs it here who's made us great homemade dinners and breakfast, twice each. I have a picture of the maybe 9 year old girl who's mother owns the place, but again not worth the five minutes right now to post. But she's a great example of the mix-feature thing I was talking about above.

I've got two problems in the world right now
The first is the bed at this place. Its a double piece of ply wood with a flimsy-ass, maybe 1 inch, mattress. Avi and I both complained after the first night and all the indians responded with "a hard bed was good for you." Now they're starting to complain, imagine that. Each day I wake up with a neck sorer than the day before, and it's really starting to affect my overall mood, mostly from the neck thing but also from the tossing and turning and general lack of a good nights sleep. The first thing I did this morning was pop an Advil. Last night I did yoga at 3 am because my lower back was killing me. Tonight I think I'll be dreaming about my memory foam mattress back home.

My second problem is the dust. It's everywhere, I'm guessing because we're so high and water isn't so abundant, plus some of the roads aren't paved. So what that means is that each morning I have to do some calculus - contacts and sunglasses (pretty necessary) and guaranteed irritated eyes, or squinting in glasses with only slightly irritated eyes. I am also getting dried out, with the back of the throat inner nose irritation that won't go away. Just venting.

Perspective Piece
I said I would be doing this but frankly I've been done a poor job so far - meaning that I was/am going to try to put into words how and why this experience affects me in different ways.

The mountains here are awe-inspiring. I compared the oceans to the mountains at the bottom of another post, and I'd like to flush that thought out a little. The ocean at Goa was great. I think everyone can appreciate the ocean, beach person or not. It's got a way of putting you at ease. Something between the sound of the waves and the vast expanse of blue makes you forget about your troubles. Personally I think the constancy, size and scope makes you feel like a small speck while at the same time, and in contrast, like one with the universe.

These huge mountains are having the same affect on me. I freely admit to being a science dork, so I appreciate the millions of years of geology and the natural processes that have sculpted the behemoths that totally surround us in this little valley. But I don't think one needs the background to appreciate what I'm trying to explain. These mountains make you feel very, very small. I've already spent hours staring out the window in our three separate excursions, completely mesmerized by them - from picking out interesting stratification or outcroppings of granite to watching how the tops of the tallest peaks change the clouds.

I am not a religious person. Carl Sagan put, and clarified, my feelings about our place in the universe with this:

We are all star dust processing star light. 

I don't need someone else's surely made-up interpretation of how or why we came to be, where we go after we die, or any of the other mumbo jumbo. But an utter abhorrence of organized religion does not mean that we non-believers don't feel some semblance of spirituality. To me, this is it. These mountains and this landscape are beautiful. They make me feel both alive but also very small and fragile. These feelings, though perhaps contradictory, make me thankful and humble. 

I hope this post finds you well. CHRIS