India / Thailand / Cambodia / Vietnam - CHAPTER 4 - Kashmir

I flew from New Delhi to Srinagar to begin my Indian Adventure. On the advice of the travel agency I had just booked a month of traveling with, I would start my journey in the far north and make my way south. They told me "India is like a woman: you start at the top and work your way to the bottom." Gross.

Anyways, at this point I wasn't fully aware of how shady the travel agency would be. So I took their advice and started my trip in the north. Arriving in Srinagar, the main city in Kashmir, I was instantly reminded of Bolivia. The altitude, the dust, the peoples' faces, the ubiquitous military presence. It was all very Bolivian.

After a bit of confusion with airport authorities (I was the only foreigner on the plane and they wanted to know why I was in Kashmir) I found my driver Asif and we left the airport, headed to his home. The plan was for me to spend the next 5 days in a homestay with Asif and his family in the foothills of the Himalayas. I was promised day hikes and camping and food by the fire and tea at sunset and total relaxation: like a mountain retreat. Instead, when I arrived at Asif's modest home in the suburbs, I was told that any additional activities would cost additional money. All I had apparently paid for was a place to stay and some home cooked meals. And even those descriptions are generous. So instead of sitting around this guy's rustic home for the next 5 days, I decided to pay for extra activities (in this case, a mountain trek, some camping, a lake tour, and a garden tour) and change my trip to only be there 3 days. I knew right away that this was not going to be what I thought it was.

After a freezing night in Asif's house, the next morning would see us driving up into the himalayas for some trekking.

Dinner with my new friend, the little brother of the young man hired to be the house servant. He was visiting on break from school, seeing his brother in a big fancy house. He just stared at me the whole time. And the tv, of course.

I didn't pack for cold weather at all, so they gave me a heavy wool Kashmiri overcoat and a hot water bottle for my bed. So sexy.

The next morning we drove a few hours up into the mountains. After 3 days of India, I was already needing a break from city life and looking forward to being in the peace of the mountains. The solitude was just what I expected. No one else around. Definitely no tourists around. Yet the air pollution persisted, even up here at 15,000 feet. We made base camp near a river in a valley and spent the day hiking the mountains. It was glorious. Cold, but glorious. I love the outdoors.

A selfie from base camp, near a gorgeous mountain river. The coldest, clearest water you could imagine.

The view from the summit. Just over 16,000 feet. Highest I've ever been. You have no idea how good some cold leftover chicken and a juice box can taste until you enjoy them after ascending 3,000 feet. But even up here, you can see the smoke and air pollution caused by humans. Sad.

After a day of trekking, we ate dinner in our tents and fell asleep nice and early. I put on every piece of clothing I had and wrapped myself up in blankets and a sleeping bag to stay warm. And it worked! The next morning I woke up and it was my 37th birthday. Definitely the strangest birthday wakeup I've ever had.

This local kid from the village came to my tent on the morning of my birthday and poked his head in and said "hello." He was so sweet and so smart, and at that point the nicest person I had met on my trip thus far. He was fascinated by me and my shoes and my phone and my general existence. He wanted to see an American dollar bill. He had never seen one before. I showed him. I also showed him an app on my phone that bends your face and he loooooved it. Cute kid. Rad kid.

After a little breakfast in the tent in the morning, we did another day hike, this time up and along the river. Again, so beautiful. But still so much trash everywhere. Trash will be a recurring theme throughout these travel blogs, sadly.

After another half day in the mountains, we returned to Asif's home in the village. I had dinner in their tv room again and went to bed promptly thereafter. No electricity and no wifi at nights. Sleep is the best option. The next day Asif took me on a tour of Moghul gardens in Srinagar. Built in the 14th and 15th centuries, these gardens were some of the biggest in the world at the time. Fed by mountain streams and gracing the shores of a massive lake, they were testaments to the greatness of the civilization at the time. But nowadays they are poorly maintained and polluted, and the shores of the lake have receded due to pollution and poor eco management. But I paid for a garden tour, and damnit I'm gonna get one!

The view from the gardens to the lake.

After the gardens, Asif drove me to a boat where I would then take a two hour tour of the lake and a nearby Mosque. Let me tell you: you only need about 15 minutes to get a vibe of the lake. And the vibe is: it's dead. They have so poorly mismanaged this lake that it has basically become one giant breeding ground for algae, invasive plant species, and mosquitoes.

I took the tour, floating mostly in silence as the driver pushed his way around the lake using a long stick. No motors. No oars. Just stick pushing. The first hour was very peaceful. The second hour was downright boring. And at the end of it, like clockwork, the boat driver asked me for a tip and told me about how many hungry children he had. There was a theme I was noticing: EVERYONE asks for a tip for doing ANYTHING, and they ALL have a TON of children who are starving and only MY MONEY can save them. It gets so exhausting. Especially when you've paid a premium that should already have the tip included, considering how expensive it all is. Needless to say, I tipped the guy. Asif picked me up after the boat trip and said he wanted to take me "shopping in town." I know how this goes: I get carted around to every one of his friends' stores and they all try and take my money. No thanks! I told Asif I just wanted to go home. This upset him. I didn't care. I also told him I was leaving the next day. This upset him as well. All the friendship, all the "my brother," all the "welcome to my city".... it's all part of this long process to get your money. It's nothing personal, but for someone as empathetic and vulnerable as me, it's hard not to take it personally. Just when you think someone actually cares about you, you find out it's because they think they can make a buck. It sucks, but that was a MAJOR THEME of my Indian travels.

Anyways, after one more night in my freezing homestay (and countless emails to the travel agency asking for schedule changes and expressing my disappointment) I would be on my way south and back into India proper. The itinerary called for me to be on a 20 hour van ride. Fuck that. I complained and had the travel agency book me a flight instead. Why they didn't book a flight in the first place confused me, but whatever. Van ride averted.

The next morning, Asif took me to the airport. Amazingly, he did NOT ask for a tip. Probably because he knew how much money he made off me during the previous three days and felt satisfied. I was a very nice guest; easy going and without complaints. I can only assume he was thankful for that and didn't feel the need to ask for a tip. He blamed the tipping culture in general on the British and the Indians. (A Kashmiri is neither Indian nor Pakistani nor Afghani. They are Kashmiri, and proud of it.)

I was pretty pissed at the travel agency at this point, but it was only the first city so I wanted to see how they'd handle the next one. Next stop? Amritsar, the most important city in the Sikh religion, and the home of the Golden Temple. After being hassled by security again at the airport (they don't get a lot of tourists in Kashmir, and they treat the ones they do get like foreign invaders) I would be on my way back into India. Iqbal, an armed airport security guard, confiscated my tweezers from my carry-on, as well as two small pebbles i picked up from the top of the mountain i camped on. He threw them in the trash and laughed at me. He threatened to take a small, semi-precious stone that I had brought with me from America as a gift from my father, but I begged him and he relented. But he loooooved the power trip and laughed to his buddy while i repacked my things, nearly in tears. Thanks Kashmir! See you later! Fuck you too!

Next chapter: 5! - Amritsar and the Golden Sikh Temple