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The Wondering Wanderings of Bryony and Nick
Namaskar
The vehicle of choice in the Himalayan foothills is none other than the trusty jeep so, after negotiating our way amongst 100 or so of these 4x4's at the bustling jeepstand, we bought ourselves tickets for the 3 hour journey from Darjeeling to Karmi Farm near the village of Kolbong.
To our amazement, but no real suprise, as the journey progressed we picked up more...and then more passengers until a 'full vehicle' suddenly took on new meaning. Our jeep was relatively empty in comparison to some we passed, and I think I counted about 21 people in one jeep with 4 sitting atop the luggage on the roof rack, 2 hanging off the back, 6 in the boot, 5 in the back seat and 3 in the front not including the driver! We ascended and descended 2 mountain passes over some roads so badly damaged by monsoon flooding that half of the road simply opened up to the nothingness below us.The roads are under constant repair to fix the damage made by one monsoon season in time for the next. To quote a most beautifully written book set in Darjeeling which perfectly describes the scenes we passed:
"The work of re-carving a path through this ruin was, of course, usually contracted to teams of hunchbacked midget men and women, rebuilding things stone by stone, putting it all together again each time their work was rent apart, carrying rocks and mud in wicker baskets attached to bands around their foreheads, staggering loony with the weight, pounding on hulking river boulders over and over for hours with hammers and chisels until a bit chipped off, then another bit. They laid out the stones and the surface was tarred again." THE INHERITANCE OF LOSS By Kiran Desai.
Our arrival at the very isolated Karmi Farm was greeted with a cup of steaming Darjeeling tea along with butter and jam on freshly made crumpets. Heaven! We sat on a large deck overlooking what should have been the borders of Nepal and the Indian state of Sikkim but alas more mist and cloud allowed us only visions of the terraced valley below.
Andrew Pulgar and his mom Deki run the Karmi Farm estate as a guest house and in their long family history going back to the 1700's they have been a strong presence in the village community. Running a free clinic for the locals funded by donations they are able to offer medication, contraception and even pay for necessary hospital treatments. Seperately from this, pending available funds, they have built 2 schools as well as repaired and rebuilt numerous homes. This has highlighted the knock-on effects of the better health of the occupants as they no longer live and sleep in damp and cold and hence don't end up as repeat patients in the Karmi Farm clinic. Nick and I have wanted very much to donate charitably to a cause in India as the level of poverty we have seen has been quite overwhelming. I felt that overpopulation is clearly one of the root causes of so much suffering with cripplingly poor parents continuing to bear 4, 6 or even 11 children! Much of this is an issue of lack of sex education as well as cultural beliefs and superstitions. With India as a growing world power and dominant in international population, the strain on global resources and pollution levels becomes a problem that affects us whatever our position on the map. We were drawn to Andrew's work as we felt we could connect personally with him and see the direct result within the community of any donations made. Unfortunately even many charitable Indian-run NGO's fall prey to corruption and misappropriation of funds and in the case of the work done by Karmi Farm we trust this would not be the case. We were touched by meeting members of the community during our walks in the hills and we hope to donate further to Karmi Farm in the future.
We learnt a few key phrases in Nepali such as:
Namaste / Namaskar - Hello, Greetings, I bless the divine in you'/ formal 'Hello'
Tapaiilai Kasto Hunanza (sp?) - How are you
Dhanyabaad - Thank you
Ramro - Good
Nick was particularly good at remembering these and practising them on the locals which delighted and suprised them no end as naturally very few visiting 'goras' would have, if ever, spoken to them in their native tongue before.
The freezing nights continued and as such we decided that, unprepared as we were, trekking with overnight stops in tents or tiny ridgetop huts wasn't quite so appealing. So, after some wonderful daytime walks ( with the luxury of crawling into bed with a 'hotwater bag' ) and playing some great games of Carrom by the fire, we headed off to another chilly mountain town called Kalimpong for our last few relaxing days in West Bengal at a guesthouse in an orchid nursery.
Our journey to the airport took us from up high in Kalimpong to the plains below along the longest winding road of my life. My increasing need to appease my travel sickness by emptying the contents of my stomach was tempered only by the stunning scenery as we followed the flow of the Teesta River's mesmerizing glacial blue waters.
A wonderful departing glance of West Bengal came as we passed an expansive tea plantation near the airport. Crowds of people gathered at the perimeter of the plantation , peering curiously over the bushes and holding up their children for a better view.There didnt appear to be anyone picking and we strained to see what all the fuss was about. Eventually we saw it; a large wild elephant strolling casually amongst the bushes, seemingly oblivious to its audience of pickers who clearly had no intention of returning to work until the elephant had elegantly lumbered out of their office.
Namaste
Bryony
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