27/09/03 Saturday
We rose early once more and had a light breakfast before leaving on the bus for Nani Ma Ashram 15 ks on the way into the city of Utterkashi. The Ashram is called Sri Sant Keshav, but is lovingly known as Nani Ma, after the 70-year-old enlightened British lady who lives there. Unfortunately she was not there, and had been up in the mountain region we had just been in. Our Camp vehicle had been slightly hit on a corner in a town, and we had been stopped there for some time the day before, and unbeknown to us, Nani Ma was only about 10 minutes from where we were. However, the wonderful young man who talked to us in the temple was Sri Ramji, and he was just gorgeous, with a beautiful face, long dark hair plaited, huge beautiful eyes, and a gentleness about him that was awe inspiring. He told us he had experienced booze, women and drugs before realising his spiritual pathway and where he is now. He would be about 30 years of age at a guess. But people who have become enlightened have a way of losing the look of increasing age, so who knows. We received blessings here, and it was a lovely experience for us. The Ashram overlooked the Bhagirathi River, and was very peaceful.
We left there as the day was getting hotter and it was only about 9am. The air conditioning on the bus was very welcome. As we approached Utterkashi, we were told that we needed to detour across the river through the town, and go up the other side because a large slip had blocked the road. We saw people “moving house” using carts with donkeys, and found out that part of the town had been covered by the slip. From the other side of the river, we could see the damage, and saw the slip still moving with stones and boulders running down the hillside. There was a big gut round further, and feared it would get a lot worse. The town was being evacuated and about 3 days later were told that the whole side of the mountain had come down and the town was destroyed. The road was completely closed and we would not have got to Gangotri, nor the glacier if we had been a few days later. This was amazing for me to hear, because of the thought of missing the experiences I had had, would be devastating, on reflection. I felt very much for the towns people who had lost their homes, but thanks to the seismological measuring equipment used all through this mountainous region, it had been predicted and no lives were lost. A sad time for these people to lose their community. Landslips are common here with the monsoons, and this year had been a big one. Also, because the Himalayas are still growing and the tectonic plates are still moving, movement of the land is constant.
We drove down the valley and up others, enjoying the scenes of villages, and villagers working the land as they have done for centuries. We went up hills and down again, round the sides of steep valleys and up onto the tops of other hills as the vegetation changed from pine trees to thicker bush, and the river valleys far below. Always it was lush green, with beautiful blue skies and fluffy passing clouds at times. We came to an area that was a huge looking brown scar on the landscape and Davinder told us this was the Tehri dam. It was being built for power etc and when completed would be the 3rd largest dam in the world. The area it would flood was immense, and a lot of families who had lived in the valley for centuries were being uprooted and moved village by village, to accommodate for the area to be flooded. These simple living hill people were being relocated in various areas, and the fight with the government had raged for years. The building of the dam was well under way, and final consent had been given only one month before. Huge trucks moved earth and dust flew up form their wheels in this dry, hot area in Northern India, in the name of progress. This dam is on the Bhagirathi River. We continued our journey in the heat, through more hillsides, rice terraces, twisting and turning up and down, crossing valleys etc until we came to the City of Srinagar in the district of Garwhal. This city has many study schools, universities, etc and is lovely, and spread out and on a river. ? The name of this river. We stopped for lunch in a hotel mid afternoon, and had the opportunity to post further post cards and letters. We ate ice-cream after lunch and that was very welcome.
We then left the city, climbing immediately up into the hillside behind the city, our destination was the traditional hill village Balori, where Suresh had been born. We climbed very steeply in the late afternoon sun, twisting and turning high above the city, where you could see the Garwhal University as it spread out in its spacious grounds far below. It was almost dusk when we reached a stop and climbed out of the bus to the welcome committee from the village. They welcomed Suresh and our group, and they were playing two different types of drums, and bagpipes, that reverberated about the high hills. Several of the local village men (about 8) danced round in a circle. They were dressed in jeans and sweaters or jerseys, just like we would. They were tall and slim, and moved very freely. We danced with them for about 15 minutes, and then we followed them up the track to the village about 15 minutes up the hill.
By now it was almost dark, and the villagers curiously watched as we followed the drummers and piper up higher to the village temple where we received a blessing and rang the temple bells that, like the pipes and drums, also reverberated loudly across the valley, and would be heard by many other villages on the hillside. This was a time for celebration, and the headman of the village received us in his home rolling out red carpet, seating us on chairs all around the courtyard, and offered us coke. In between time we danced for about 1 hour or more with the villagers. Sandra attempted to play the bagpipes, and I enjoyed playing a drum along with the musicians. I got the shy village girls up to dance and at first they were reluctant, but then once we got started they were enthusiastic and we had a great time, whirling and dancing round and round the courtyard. Many of the villagers watched and clapped as we enjoyed the wonderful hospitality, and danced some of the local folk dances. It was hot in the mid evening air and we stopped late in the evening laughing, puffed and happy. We began to talk to the villagers and for most of them their limited English and our non-existent Hindi made for interesting, and fun conversations over tea/chai and biscuits.
I started a conversation with a young village girl named Sema, and found out she could speak quite good English. She had studied anthropology, English and science at Garwhal University far down in the valley in the city. She was now 23 years old, married to a soldier who was currently on the Pakistani border, and they had a home in Dehra dun. Sema was the eldest of 6 girls and a boy in her family and she was home visiting her family. I met her mother young brother and sisters and later her father. When it was time to leave, we sang to them, they sang to us, and we made a torchlight procession down the hill to the bus. The laughter would be heard across the valley, as the group snaked down the mountain. Sema held my arm tight so as to help me on the unfamiliar track, and I managed to put my hand into some animal poo, as I steadied myself when I slipped. This bought raucous laughter from our little group with Sema, her brother, sisters and father. We made it to the bus, laughing and happy. We swapped addresses and promised to keep our friendship. (Since my return, I have written to Sema and send some paua jewellery to thank her for her kindness that night in the hills of the Indian Himalayas). A night I will never forget for the wonderful, simple, friendly experience.
We drove down to a nearby village with the piper in the front of the bus, this was his home. Suresh had a smile from ear to ear, and his eyes shone with pride, and happiness to have shared his village with this group from New Zealand.
We drove for about another two hours down through the hills and along narrow twisty roads, up and around in the dark of the night. We got stopped at a roadblock, and had to wait some time to be cleared to go through. It turned out that the policeman on watch was new, this was his first night on the job, and we were later than the allowable time to be travelling in the hills. They got the police chief up and he said its ok, and we could go. About 30 minutes later about midnight, we arrived at our camp at Rudraprayag. It was by the Alaknanda River, but in the dark we could not see it, just hear the rushing water. We knew that the next day would also be a big day, so we went off to bed as soon as our tents were allocated.
Visualise God, seek God, merge in God – that is the duty of man.
True love consists in serving the Lord, recognising the Lord in everyone and serving everyone in the same way.
Sai Baba
28/09/03 Sunday
Some people wished for a quiet day, and stayed in camp. We were to camp here for two nights, and our wonderful ‘camp boys’ did our washing for us when they could not find someone from the villages to do it for us. Because of the caste system, no one was willing to do this task for any amount of money.
Not one to miss an experience, and I had already decided to try and walk all of the treks and walks, I rose early, and prepared to leave. The sun was up early, and the day promised to be hot. We left the camp in the bus, thinking it was a 1-½ hour drive to the village that has leads to the track to Karttikeya, a temple on a hilltop high in the hills. It sits at 9,500ft, and I am not sure at what altitude the village was. We drove up and down beautiful valleys and round hillsides, gloriously covered from top to bottom in rice terraces. The shadows that were cast by the mid morning sun made the rich greens and golden rice colours catch the eye and cameras captured the scenes to show to our friends and families back home. The photos are only a postage stamp of the real richness of this region, and its breathtaking beauty.
Karttikeya is the name of Lord Shiva’s elder son and also known as Skanda and is identical with the planet and deity Mars. The temple is very sacred and famous. We were to meet Swami Karttikeya up at his dwelling near the temple, but he was not there at that time. In the bus as we neared the village, Davinder told us the story of Ganesha (the elephant God) and how he got to have the face and trunk of an elephant, and Karttikeya, the sons of Shiva. He also told us that we would be the first group of tourists to ever visit the temple. That, to me, was very special. It was only a 3km trek to this temple, but it was up a very steep, slippery, rocky path. Some people, who had been unwell, or unable to, had just come to the village and some decided not to make the journey up the mountain. For some it was too slippery. I was ok for the first 2/3 of the climb, I had one minor episode of diarrhoea, nothing much, I decided it was just some physical/emotional shedding from my previous experiences. I felt well, but it was very very hot. I was drinking about 3 litres of water a day. On the last 1/3, I struggled with my breath, no pains in my chest or legs, but a racing heart. I had to stop frequently, but the thought in my mind was that my determination to get to the top was greater than the steepness of the mountain. I was aware once again of Drew and Toni being with me, and when it was difficult, they told me I had to feel the difficulty of this walk. When I called on Sai Baba, whom I also felt was with me, he just said he would meet me at the top.
It took 1 ½ hours to reach the temple, and Cecilia, the wonderful Columbian lady who lives in Auckland and who always stayed at the back to help the stragglers, stayed with me until I got there. I said I was ok, and I was going to make it, that I just need to catch my breath frequently, but she stayed to encourage me by her presence. I guess the bit of diarrhoea, the blocked nose and my nearing menstruation contributed to the way I felt. Once I got to the top of the 20 or so steep steps that was the last of the journey to the temple, I cried with relief. Just gentle tears of relief from the effort, and the fact that I had got there. I had done longer journeys so far, but this was really steep, and I appreciated the difficulty that it had presented to me.
I had a blessing at the temple by the priest, and got a red cotton band to wear round my left wrist. This was something that happened at some temples and not others, and when questioning what it was about, was told that it connected us to that temple, and when we got home, to burn the band as an everlasting connection to the temples, and the area. I enjoyed the beautiful and vast view of the central Himalayas from up here but there was a lot of cloud covering them, and the high hills all around afforded a fantastic view of greens and blues that we always see with the bush clad hills, the reflection of the clouds, and the depth of the valleys. We stood out on a pinnacle, one of several in this beautiful area. It was very hot and my clothes were drenched in sweat from the climb. After taking some photos, I sat in silence with my eyes closed, and just rested within myself and within the surroundings of this awesome place where, as I said no outside tourists had been before. I had not long settled into my own space in meditation when I heard Sai Baba’s voice say to open my eyes. I was a little startled, and did as I was told. Just then, one of our Indian bus drivers walked across my vision on the other side of the small compound and Sai Baba said, “see here I am, you see me in everyone”. The driver looked over to where I sat looking at him and smiled the most wonderful smile at me. (I think he knew).!!! Or at least he was aware of the god presence within himself.
Just then it was decided we must make our way back down. I looked at the temple again, and thought what a beautiful, peaceful place, square, with the pointed roof in the centre above the inner sanctum with its decorative pinnacle above. The decoration on top of the temples symbolises …(I need to find out what to write here)…….. It was painted white with multi colours of blue, red and white, with yellow, red and white flags fluttering in the warm gentle breeze. Even at this altitude, a jacket was not needed, and I was not too breathless. Bells hung all around the temple veranda, on the surrounding fence, and at the entrance, as they do at most of the temples. Lots of bells to ring when you felt the need. As we were about to leave, we stopped to talk to an old Indian man wearing a yellow shirt, orange skirt, orange scarf, beads, and a funny white hat perched upon his head. He was bearded and bare footed. He is a holy man, who walks everywhere. When we set out earlier, he passed us with ease in his bare feet and had reached the top long before any of us. He had just walked for nine days to get to this temple, and was going onto Kedrinath, and Badrinath temples, all on foot. What a lovely man.
We walked back to the dwelling down the hill a bit where the swami and the priest live, and enjoyed apples and bananas with the priest and someone else staying there. The track back down the hill was just as steep going down, and slippery. Most of us ended up on the ground at some stage, but fortunately no one was hurt. It only took about half an hour to get to just above the village, where the camp boys had lunch waiting for us. I could not eat anything, but had some fruit juice and chocolate that they had for us. I was finding the Indian food difficult, and could just not eat it, but could not really say why. We boarded the bus, and drove back to camp arriving much later than expected at 8pm. It was a good case for laughing at the Indian stretchable time and distance…again. What a lovely day. I then began to feel a sense of excitement about having been to that temple, but could not, and still cannot (at this time) say why.
It was a beautiful night, with a magnificent sun set, again, and we sat under the open dinner tent, had our meal, and Glen led a meditation, where we connected as a dome to connect with the cosmos. I then connected with my mother and had an interesting meeting with her. I wish to keep some of that to myself, but was able at this time to take my mother into my soul space, such was our connection and spend time with her in there, meeting and greeting relatives etc from the past. It was an awesome time, and a time of healing for us both. Thank you Glenn, for the facilitation of that journey, within a journey.
It was a good night to settle early, well, for the energised me, 1030pm was early, rest and enjoy the memories, not just of the day, but of the whole trip. I had my tent under the bodi tree, which is the same type of tree that Buddha sat under to meditate for 42 days and nights, so I figured my two nights would help!!!
I have come to light the lamp of love in your hearts, to see that it shines day by day with added lustre.
Sai Baba
29/09/03 Monday
I woke early again, eager for the next experience, and enjoyed the rushing water in the river by the camp, to sit, pray, listen and ‘be’ with where I was. Breakfast was slow this morning, and we were then late leaving, because there was some problem with the steering on the bus, and something with the Jeep to be repaired as well. That was all ok, and after packing bags etc, we were on our way. This day’s journey was to Kalimath temple, another 3 km walk that was both a bit steep, flat, down hill, and whatever. We boarded the bus, and drove some distance to the Masta village the point of beginning the walk. If some people did not want to walk the 3 km, they could stay on the bus, go with the drivers to the other side of the valley, and walk about 2 km, from where there was a slip on the road to the temple and village. A couple of the ladies did this and we met them there.
Once again the ride up the hillside was twisty, steep and narrow. And then we found we had gone too far and had to go back to the starting point. Davinder took group photos here, and in the heat of the mid morning, we stared to walk through the rice terraces, and down into a valley. We did not really know where to go, and at a school, they directed us to the right path. Unbeknown to us at the head of the party, the others visited the school, and so we got straggled out. I missed that occasion, but that is ok. Others who went in had a lovely visit with the children of the valley. We wended our way down the track that was wide in places and narrow in others as we crossed little streams, and climbed up the bank on the other side. Lesley and I set the pace, without even thinking. We chatted as we went, which was the first time I had really talked a lot on a walk. Being down hill probably helped. Once when getting to a fork in the track, a donkey and owner came down a track and went round the little bend and further down he went. We indicated Kalimath, up or down, and he indicated down, so we drew an arrow in the dirt on the track and continued on down. It was quite steep and we came to a bridge over the small river, where monkeys living in the trees, screeched and clambered over the bridge and up the path on the other side. It was a delight to see.
We crossed the bridge ourselves and started the climb up the track. We realised how hot and steep it was and soon both of us were walking slowly, and puffing a bit in the heat. We came to another fork in the track and were unsure where to go. I went up a little way on the upper track, and saw some women working in the fields higher up. I called to them which way to Kalimath and they indicated down, so we drew another arrow in the dirt and off we set. As we rounded a corner we saw the village with what we presumed was the temple. We sidled down the path meeting some Indian people on the way, greeting them with the much-used Nameste, which was reciprocated. It is such a nice greeting. We arrived at the village in 1-½ hours and it was very very hot in the sun of the mid day. I felt again the sense of excitement but did not know why. When we walked into the village and stopped by some trees for some shelter, a ‘baba yogi’ came and spoke to us. That is what he told us he was. His English was not that good and we had a “conversation” for about 10minutes.
We saw Gail and Sandra arriving on the other side of the river, they had gone in the bus, and watched them come round into the village. We went to see them and found them behind a round building with wrought iron bars for walls. Inside there was an inner sanctum and people sitting praying. There were the many familiar bells again, and this is Kalimath temple. There is a lot of red material with gold glittery edging on it used in the temple ceremonies. Inside the inner sanctum there was a round object covered and wrapped in this red sheer cloth, edged in gold. Behind the temple, was a wrought iron fence, with a house in a lovely garden with green grass, flowers and a path. This is the priests’ house and there was Sandra and Gail, sitting in the shade talking to the priests. We were welcomed in and waited there for the others, being offered chai, then as the others arrived, ate peanuts, etc. It was a lovely scene from the veranda of the old stone house next door with slate roof and concrete fence stained from age, with the very steep hillside in the back ground. The green plants in the garden were lush and healthy, and when Stephanie (73) arrived, she plonked herself prone down on the cool grass shaded by some pretty tall yellow flowers.
Once we were all gathered, and Jocelyn had extracted the leeches from her feet!!! we went into the temple of the Goddess Kali. Kali is very revered by the Indian people, as the female entity of their belief, and to have blessings at this temple allows you to make wishes. When the wishes come true, as they invariably do, then you must go back to Kalimath and give thanks to the Goddess Kali, for her part in helping to make those wishes come true. We had a lovely pooja blessing and ceremony (traditional Indian prayer ceremony) inside the temple, with holy men chanting prayers, bells ringing, and the beating of 6 drums outside the temple doors. Wow, what a sound, what a feeling, what an experience. All of this helps the prayers and wishes go to heaven. We got our “little red dot’ on the forehead, holy water to drink and bless with and little sugar balls, nuts and raisins to eat. This is called Prasad – meaning ‘purity’, blessed food. What a fabulous blessing. The little bits of red cloth with the gold decoration were tied onto our packs as a nice gesture for us to remember and take with us and we got the red cotton tied to our wrists also.
We then walked a few metres to the older temples that were 00s of years old. They were beautiful, and inside one little building, were the statues of the 8 metals. In this building, a family dwelling where their job was to keep the fire burning, which it had for the past 300 years. In here we had a special blessing with ashes and were given vibuti, a special ash, to take home. At all of the temples, we could only take photos outside the temples. I felt a nice gentle energy here that was of peace and contentment. There was a deep feeling of “being’, for me here, and I enjoyed the reverence of the ceremonies and the temples. In the winter, the statue of Kali, is taken down the mountain to a village that is warmer. For in Kalimath, as at a lot of other temple towns, there will be up to 12 –14 feet of snow in the winter. We then wandered through the village, and over the river and to the bus, where we drove to the next camp at Guptkashi and had a late lunch at 3.45pm. During lunch, Davinder told us more of his wonderful stories about temples and lakes. Up at the head of the valley beyond Kalimath, we could see from the camp that was in a steep sided valley the mountain of Kedarnath. We were not going to the Kedarnath temple on this visit, but it is another very special temple of the 4 Chardarm’s that all Indians are supposed to visit in their lifetime. (we were visiting the other 3).
We enjoyed the late afternoon in the camp, and read, wrote or whatever, some sat round just talking. That evening after dinner we did a mediation about ‘shinning our light’. It was lovely. After that, we did a “talking stick” round, where everyone gets a chance to say something. I did not really know what I wanted to share, and when the stick came to me, I just let the words flow, and started with, “One day I woke up and they told me I had cancer, and I thought I was going to die….so now I live my life to the fullest. I then went on to tell about my hair falling out following my cancer etc, and my quest to find out why, and finding out about my mercury lead and sliver poisoning and my treatment and my healing experiences here” I cried gently during this, and recognised the release I was getting from sharing this story at this time. I don’t really remember all of what I said, but after I finished, I felt energy go up into the universe and felt very light and floaty for some time. A beautiful feeling. Several of the group came to me after and thanked me for sharing, and said they were very touched my story and telling it here with them. I felt very energised in this place. When everyone had gone to bed, I stood around the camp fire with Tony and we just talked. When I went to bed, I lay down in my sleeping bag, and put my hands in a familiar position of healing on my abdomen and felt the most amazing buzzing sensation in my charkas and an energy that went right up and down them. I slept well in the mountains.
Love is My form, truth is My breath, peace is My food. My life is My message.
Sai Baba
30/09/03 Tuesday
We rose about 6.15am and packed our packs, we prepared to leave and some of the ladies did a hair washing session in the middle of the camp, lots of laughter was had and it was fun to watch. Once on the bus, Davinder talked to us again about the myths of the Gods and Goddesses of India and told us about a mantra Om namaha Shivaya, meaning truth, simplicity and love. This is a mantra of Shiva, “I surrender to Shiva” (Thy will be done, O Lord, Amen). We chanted this with the reverence it is due, and enjoyed the peace that it bought to us as we drove through the beautiful countryside. There were more of the rice terraces that had dominated the landscape on this trip, and they once again looked magnificent with their early morning shadows. The hills here were steep sided and rocky in places as we took a side road and drove up to the village. Once again it was a hot day, and those who had decided not to take the 3k trek up to the lake Deoria Taal, (pronounced Devia Taal) stayed around the village and dried the washing on the top of the bus. It was a sight to see Sue, blond-grey hair piled on top of her head, long skirt flowing in the breeze on top of the bus, putting out the washing to dry. It had got very hot and with water bottle in hand, daypack on, we began the walk up the path and into the fields high above the road. It got hotter and the reflection of the rocks added to the heat.
I had to stop for a drink and enjoy the magnificent scenery laid out before me. I, sat under a tree for some shade and thanked God I was alive, to enjoy this remote, almost indescribable feeling of where I was, and what I was doing. I found my heart racing, but my breathing was ok. There again was no pain in my legs and chest and it felt good, so good to be in the mountains again. I had not tramped much in the past couple of years and realised how much I missed being one with the land, the height, the heat and the bush. As I approached the crest of the hill, on which there was a line of trees, there was an opening where the bright blue sky beckoned like a welcome hand. I drank in this scene and photographed what I call “the light at the end of my tunnel”. I thought about another photo at home that I have named the same, taken in the mountains of Fiordland, (NZ) at another time, on another journey. Once arriving at the lake others in the group had also noted the opening that we had walked through before continuing through the welcome cool of the bush to emerge at the small mountain lake.
This lake sits at 7,500 feet and when I arrived there was a large group of school children there, and the noise was of loud chatter, lots talking at once and it broke the tranquillity of this beautiful small lake in the mountains. A herd of water buffalo were just emerging from the lake on the other side and added beauty to the photos that I took. The mountain scene over the valley’s was of 270 degrees of absolute beauty where the line of snow crested mountains rose to 23,000 feet. The clouds passed, for moments blocking the scene, which then re-emerged to create a breathtaking vista to drink in and enjoy. To the extreme left beyond this range is Yamnotri and Shiva Linga, and Davinder named all the mountains in between and to the right sitting majestically beyond the saddle of the nearer hills was Mana peak and Nilkanth peak, which are in the area of Badrinath and Mana that we will visit. Nilkanth is also called blue throat and dedicated to Lord Shiva.
We enjoyed resting on the grass, snoozing under umbrellas out of the sun, and just enjoying “being there”. Then it was time to walk back down the steep hillside on a different track, with all the school children, chattering, boys racing down the track and girls arm and arm helping each other down. They complained about the heat, but did not appear to have drink bottled to hydrate them. We arrived back at the bus, the washing was retrieved from its roof, and listened to the stories of those who did not join us and their escapades in the village, drinking chai with the locals and resting in someone’s garden.
We boarded the bus and headed back down the road. We stopped at a waterfall and pool by the roadside and Davinder got out to wash his face and hands. Others asked if they could do the same, and just as well they did. Unbeknown to him, his glasses had fallen out of his pocket into the pool and one of the women found them in the shallow water. Good fortune, or divine intervention!!??
We arrived back at the main road and headed around and down then up the other side of the valley to climb high into a forest called Chopta. This is the area where the majority of plants and herbs etc are harvested for Ayurvedic medicines. We climbed up the twisty road through the beautiful forest of ancient trees, shrubs and plants, and high up into the area where camps were set up in open grassy areas with large rocks all around. We drove further on and came to our camp. We were not that far below the tree line and these trees were amazing. They were the rhododendrons, so famously known in the Himalayas. Their twisted trunks and deep green leaves were supported by moss growing from root to treetop. They were beautiful, but at this time of year were not in flower. Our camp was at 9,500 feet and some people were finding the air quite thin and hard to breathe. Especially those with their colds and chest infections. Even climbing up the steps from the road to the camp, and any effort, even getting in and out of the tents brought on breathlessness, so we moved slowly and very much enjoyed the view over the valley. We ate a snack of pakoras and chips and popcorn, and settled into our tents. Up behind the camp were enormous rocks in the clearing below the trees. A few of us, one by one, went up there to take photos, write diaries and just “be”, while the day was still light. Later we enjoyed watching the gorgeous sunset on the far and distant mountains. Beautiful shades of gold and flaming orange with vibrant reds. All the colours of the priests, sadhu and monks robes. It was a beautiful spot for the camp, which we would stay in for two nights.
Way up behind the camp and way above the tree line was a rugged looking peak. That was part of our destination the next day. The trek tomorrow was a very anticipated one for me because it was to be the highest climb on the trip. It was quite cold at night at this altitude and some people had brought hot water bottles and got them filled by the camp boys. These guys were amazing, and did so much to help us. I want to use this space to thank them sincerely for all their cooking, camp organising and cleaning up after us!! Also for providing the ginger honey and tumeric drinks for me and my blocked sinus, it really helped. You’re fantastic – all of you, AJ that we saw a lot of, right to the cook who we saw very little of.
Be wherever you like. Do whatever you choose. Remember this well that what you do is known to Me. I am the inner ruler of all.
Sai Baba
1/10/03 Wednesday
Some time early in the trip, we had been warned that being at altitude could bring on weird dreams, and strange thoughts and sometimes behaviours, so when I woke at 6.00am and recalled the dream I had, I knew I had to remember it and write it down. I recall it now from my diary. “A woman (someone I know), was planning for her death. She knew she was going to die and was saying her goodbyes, doing ‘things’, issuing orders and preparing. It was very organised, and accepted. She was going to have an injection to sleep and die”. I did not think too much about it, or try to interpret it, because I needed to get up and prepare for this important day. I did this later and wrote my thoughts in my diary.
The temple we were going to was called Tungnath Shiva temple and is dedicated to Lord Shiva. Some people were riding donkeys to the temple and either coming back down to the camp, or climbing the further distance up to the top called Chandra Shila, at 13,200 feet. This is about 1,000 ft higher than Mount Cook, the highest mountian in NZ, for those not familiar with our geography. I set out at 7.50am walking on the well maintained stone track after climbing up through the rocks behind the camp to meet the track. This was only about 100 metres or so, but it was steep and I puffed like an old train. Remember this was already at about 9,000ft. Once on the main track, it was not so steep and I was able to get my stride, and breathing in order and just enjoyed this wonderful wonderland of Rhododendron trees and green velvety farmland, high up in the Himalayas, above the village, the valleys and the roads far below. As I climbed higher, once again by myself, the track got steeper and I met locals coming down the mountain. I came out of the tree line and into the heat and stopped for a drink. I sat on the wall beside the track and drank in not only the water I carried, but also the absolute beauty of the canvas of mountains, hills and valleys below. It was breathtaking and I felt blessed to be on this journey. I was excited to be able to walk the tracks, the goal I had set at the beginning and I had seen various members of our group use donkeys, and enjoy the experience, because of illness, steepness or painful knees etc. This was a great decision for them to make, which allowed them to visit the temples they would not otherwise have managed to get to. They passed me on the track and I waved them on calling to them I would see them at the top!! Again I recalled that my college emblem had been “AD Summum,” – To the top. I recalled this and was proud to still be fulfilling my destiny, for the photo I wore for four years on my blazer pocket was of the mountains that were the Takitimu’s, a range behind my hometown.
I set out again as the track got steeper and rockier. I arrived at the Tungnath temple at 9.15am, and most of the others in the group had arrived either walking, or on donkey. It was 11,200 ft, and the sun was blazing in the bright blue sky. There was no wind and I walked up through the village and up the steps to the temple. A sadhu sat on the stone wall with the deep valley’s hills and mountains as a backdrop, talking to our group and I joined them to listen. We went into the very small temple, crowding in to have our blessing and pooja, where a small fire burned and red cotton bands were again placed on our wrists. This temple was only bout 200 years old, but was of stone and painted in the front in a rainbow of colours of yellow blue, white and red. Coloured flags flew from the roof and a trident stood by the door. This represents the same as the trinity, the father son, and Holy Spirit. In the photos it is easy to see the sign of the swastika, which as we all know was used by Hitler in the Second World War, only he used it back to front. It is an ancient Aryan symbol and the real meaning when written the correct way is for prosperity. We were given a blessing by a baba there and after about 30 minutes started to think about the next part of our journey.
The few of us who wanted to walk to the highest point in our journey then set off round the side of the village and up towards the crest of the hill. We all went at our own pace, and climbed the narrowing steep path. The view of the mountains was amazing, almost beyond words and we were mindful of the time, because Davinder had warned us that by about 1100am, the cloud would start to obscure the view of the mountains we could not yet see. There were lots of ‘totem’ animals and birds on the way, and on one of the ridges across a small valley there were about 30 monkeys just sitting on the grass. There were birds flying about, and two crows that seemed to be keeping me company. I wondered if they were a pair, and thought of a time earlier in the year when I did some workshops with an American Indian Shaman, named Medicine Crow. The message in one of my meditations at that time was “go to the mountains”, and this was repeated over and over in the meditation. Medicine Crow just told me to go and find my mountain, and I guess in one way, here, I did. The crows accompanied me as I climbed to the top, and what a wonderful feeling to enter the archway with the bells by the small temple and ring those bells in celebration of my arrival, on the roof of the world. It was 13,200ft, and the air was a little thin, but the sun was warm and there was no real breeze to spoil the vista of beauty.
Looking round the 360-degree view was the most amazing sight for me and the others in the group who had arrived or arrived following me. There were just a small bunch (9) of us hardy souls who attempted and made it to the summit, and we rejoiced in the splendour of our journey. We took photos, as the clouds weaved in and out and up and down the mountain tops. The main Himalayan Mountains were somewhat away from where we were, but were pointed out to us in detail when Davinder arrived. The 26,000ft highest mountain in India, Mt Nanda- Devi, and all of the others. Stories were told about some of the peaks that he had climbed, including the ones where the Japanese climbers were killed in 1982, the expedition Davinder had led. A tragic time for him and the end of his mountain-guiding career of this dimension.
Clouds and birds played in the updraughts of wind, and the crows settled on the rocks, and hopped onto the temple and flew around the summit that we enjoyed. The clouds obscured the views, and then were blown away by a warm breeze into the blue atmosphere, to reappear somewhere later over the valleys and hills that ranged in colour from varieties of blue to green, hazy in the midday heat.
Other small animals were observed, such as the large brown slug slowly heading for its underground hiding place. A mole type rat sort of animal without a tail scurried across the ground. Davinder led us through a breathing meditation, and we did some Om’s and then the Om namaya Shivaya mantra chant and that felt really great. I tried to meditate on my own, but just got a message that I did not need to up there.
We then left to walk back down the mountain, bringing small stones back for myself and two special friends, from this mountain at the top of our journey. We took a few shortcuts off the path, and down the grass, passing wild strawberries (no fruit) and stopping to take a few more photos. I noted in my diary that I felt “pretty good”. We almost got to the bottom of the track, when Davinder caught up with us and said that he had knocked his camera when he slipped on some rocks and smashed his expensive lens and broke it. He was very upset – understandably. We got to the village and my feet were quite sore, the rock path was a bit uneven, and hard to walk on. The few of us sat at a café, outside in the sun, and enjoyed a chai, coffee, or cold drink, well deserved after our effort.
The village dogs had thick tin collars on and this puzzled me. On asking, we were told that there are panthers in the forest and this is to stop them injuring, or killing the dogs if they attack. They are mountain dogs, and bark when they smell panther near the village. When getting up to the toilet in the night, it was a bit scarry, thinking that panthers might be about the camp. So a quick dash to the toilet tent and back to my one, puffing in the altitude!!
I went back to the camp and had a rest in my tent for a little while. I recalled meeting the school children from the day before again, struggling to climb up the mountain we had just come down, and hearing one of them calling out “God give me the strength and power to climb the mountain so that I can worship Lord Shiva”. I had stopped and spoke to her and gave her my mantra “ I am light…….” From earlier in the journey. I pondered how she had managed the climb. They only had about 15 – 30 minutes left to walk to the Tungnath temple.
Pakoras and chips were served in the early evening and after dinner that night we did some meditation, and went off to bed early, expecting to rise early the next morning, about 4 am.
Life is a pilgrimage to God, the holy spot is there, the road lies before you. Start with courage, faith, joy and steadiness; You are bound to succeed.
Sai Baba
2/10/03 Thursday
Chopta to Badrinath.
We had a 4.00am wake up call, packed quickly, had breakfast and left in the bus at 500am. Bruce (NZ’er who resides in California) sat with me and told me a lot about his art, his messages etc
The reason we left so early was because we had been warned we might get held up on the road by demonstrations. Today was Mahatma Ghandi’s birthday, Davinder told us, and also the day of independence for the state of Utteranchal, where we were. On this day about 4 years before, a bloody battle was fought for freedom and 70 women, men and children, were violently and innocently killed in a protest that was supposed to be a peaceful demonstration. Ghandi fought peacefully for the independence of India and so the citizens of the state hold peaceful demonstrations on this day in memory of those killed in their fight for freedom. This hill nation of Utteranchal was formed because the government monetary allocations to the whole state of Utterpradesh at that time, which stretched from the northern part of Delhi right up to the mountains was so big, that the hill communities missed out on the money that the government apportioned. It got lost in beurocracy etc. For years the leaders of the hill tribes had peacefully worked toward independence but got nowhere. About 2 years later following this demonstration that ended so tragically, the state of Utteranchal was officially formed. It is a hill state, and the rest of Utterpradesh forms the flat lands back to Delhi.
Therefore the 2nd October is a national holiday, and in the past few years, travellers such as ourselves were able to pass through the towns and villages not bothered by the locals, but there was some suggestion that this year, it would be different. Shops would not be open, and nothing would be happening we were told. We needed to get through the expected problem spots by 9 – 10am.
We stopped in a town to get petrol and use the toilets, and school children dressed in their beautiful uniforms, as was a common sight on the roads, were marching in the morning heat with placards that were supporting hygiene, sanitation and not killing girl babies. This is what a lot of the Television advertising is about, in an attempt to lift the standard of living and control and balance the population. These issues began with the late leader Indra Ghandi, but now are being recognised.
We drove on the narrow twisting road to Joshimath, and there was a tanker off the road, in a ditch that was part of the road works. After what seemed like a lot of deliberation, they tied a rope to the front of the tanker and pushed from behind and got a big cheer when the truck was cleared from the road. There had been quite a build up of traffic who all started tooting to get traffic moving, and the impatience of the drivers was obvious!!!
The road works were occurring over 300km and hold ups were frequent while they cleared the areas where blasting had occurred. Here they did have bulldozers to shift the rubble, where in other areas, it mostly occurred by rope and shovel. We stopped at a nice roadside café and had some food in the sun, before moving on up the mountain road again. We had the choice of going by cable car up to the new Auli ski resort. Skiing in India is becoming popular and ski fields are being built. They are high in the mountains, and often difficult to access, but with a growing tourist market, will become very popular they expect. We did not go. The scenery in this steep valley was magnificent and less rice terracing was seen than in the areas we had come from
We arrived at Joshimath and had lunch is a lovely hotel. We were going to go through “the gate” at 2pm on to Badrinath, but because of a demonstration in the town, had to wait here at the hotel until 4pm. The scenery was beautiful, and reminded me of Queenstown and other parts of Fiordland round Milford sound and the other lakes in the area. The road up to Joshimath was twisty and narrow, and often there was a drop of many hundreds of feet to the Alaknanda River below. The spectacular views were a photographer’s paradise and cameras were passed across the isles for photos to be taken. Across the deep gorge were sheer cliffs and high hills that housed small villages along the way. Landslips along the way had blocked the road, and walking trails had been carved over the remaining tangle of rocks and dirt. Along the side of the mountain that appeared to be pure granite was a trail that Davinder told us was the ancient trail to Badrinath, our destination. We enjoyed the warm day lounging on the balcony or inside the hotel while we waited for the boarding call for the bus to go to “the gate” and wait for our turn to go.
“The gate” is an area where the traffic waits at this end, or the Badrinath end to be allowed on the very narrow, one-way road. When we got there we had to wait about half an hour and hawkers bearing shawls by the shoulder load, besieged the bus and offered us sales. We were offered such varieties of colours, designs, value and textures that were very hard to resist and we bought some each. I got a nice white one for 100Rupee ($4). It is a lovely meditation shawl. Once we moved on we zigzagged down the mountain side to the Alaknanda river far below, crossed the bridge near a dam that is being built and drove along the riverbank on the other side. We were held up for about 10 minutes while we waited for some dignitary and his entourage to pass. They had apparently been up in the Joshimath area for the protest and had made a trip up to Badrinath temple. Once on the road again, we turned into the narrow valley that twisted and turned as we made our way up to the next town. Some traffic passed us on the narrow road, with very little passing room. The small villages had temples on the main road, and the towns were very pretty. The rock walls of the valley were steep and the energy was amazing, giving me a feeling of strength. The faces hidden in the rocks were a delight, and we could not get enough of the vista of beauty, as we slowly made our way along the road. We got to a town where a bridge crossed the river and found out that was the entrance to the track, which was a two-day walk to the amazing Valley of Flowers. A place of great beauty that we were not visiting on this journey.
As we got up toward the top of the valley, we passed through mountains that were huge and foreboding as they towered above the narrow gorge. We climbed up the side of the mountain in a zigzag for a great distance, then once out the top, and in darkness at 7pm, we arrived in the town of Badrinath. The town sitting at 10,000ft was well lit and we were booked into our hotel the Narayan Palace. I must have really been accustomed to the altitude for I did not notice it much here. The rooms were clean and cool. Sleeping in a sleeping bag under the blankets I slept well.
Strive – that is your duty, Yearn – that is your task, Struggle – that is your assignment. If only you do this sincerely and steadily, God cannot keep back for long the reward of realisation.
Sai Baba
3/10/03 Friday.
Badrinath Temple and Mana village
Our wake up call was at 6.00am, and I washed and readied for a white glove breakfast, which we experienced with all our meals at this hotel. We walked to Badrinath temple marvelling at the mountains steep and overpowering in the morning light, and saw the awesome sight of Mana Peak, and Nilkanth, the blue throat mountain, dedicated to Lord Shiva, that we had seen from so far away at the lake and from the mountain top of our highest point (13,200ft) a few days before. We walked through the shopping centre along the way. Since Rishikesh, there had been very little opportunity for shopping and many people were keen to look at the wares.
We enjoyed a pooja ceremony on the banks of the Alaknanda River, with a priest hired for the purpose of the ceremony. We then went up to the temple and went into the inner sanctum of this famous and very colourful temple. It is said that just being in Badrinath is a blessing, and to be in the temple, every offering, prayer or request is taken up to God 10,000 times over. In the elaborate inner sanctum we were able to see and witness the beautiful gold and other metal statues dedicated to the Gods of the Himalayas, the Hindu way of life and India. Within the temple was an eternal light, and Davinder told us that when the temple is closed up for the 6 months of winter, due to the heavy 12 –14 ft snows that come, the light is left shining. When the temple is opened up in the spring, the light is still burning, although it has not been tended in that 6 months, and there are fresh green flowers and leaves in the temples inner sanctum. One of the miracles of this wonderful place. We stayed in the temple for about 5 – 10 minutes, so were very lucky to spend such a long time. In the height of the pilgrim time, people are just rushed through, so we were told. I had the great honour of carrying the offering plate into the temple, and felt very blessed by this occasion.
This temple is dedicated to the god Vishnu and outside in the courtyard, lots of smaller temples and statues were there to be worshiped, such as the monkey God, and goddesses etc. We were given a talk by one of the priests, some mythological stories, which Davinder translated for us. We did some meditation near some of the other statues that were significant in this area, but I cannot remember the story. Davinder told the story of how when Vishnu’s wife tried to brush snow of him when he was in a very long meditation and he got distracted, she was asked to stay out of his meditation area. Her grief at not being able to look after him meant she “died” and formed a prickly bush around him to protect him. Therefore in this temple, her shrine is outside the main inner sanctum and they do not sit together, which is the usual way in most temples.
The area is so sacred to the Hindu, it is said that just being there shifts 10,000’s worth of Karma also. This comes from the story about the Demon God from Sri Lanka, a long story of war and rescue. It is said that when you say the rosary prayers, each one of the 108 prayers represents 10,000 worth of one. Powerful!!!. Davinder bought places in the temple for a special Arti ceremony that was occurring that night, and it was very fortunate for us that it was happening while we were in Badrinath.
We then left and meandered through the shops on our way back to the hotel. The plan was to have lunch and then board the bus for the 3 km drive up to the head of the valley to the little village of Mana, as close to the Tibetan boarder as we could get. On the way to the temple, I had spotted a Tibetan bell in a shop, and was very much like what I had decided I wanted for myself. So I found the shop, and bought this lovely bell that was comprised of the 7 metals with a Dorjie on the to for a handle. I was delighted with my purchase, because that is the only item I really wanted to buy for myself on this trip. A genuine, authentic Tibetan bell, purchased by me, in India, near Tibet!!
I purchased a few other items such as a warm rug, and little items of interest or as gifts. I wandered back to the hotel, and we had lunch before boarding the bus for Mana. Village. I was still not eating much and had noted my weight loss, but felt great.
Even though it was only 3 km, the stark difference in the landscape and the people was quite spectacular. The air was thin at this altitude of 10,000+ feet. We saw rice being gathered in the fields, and sheer cliffs above the river valley, some of these had mountain tops with glaciers spilling over the edges in a cascade of white. One looked just like Niagara Falls, but the photo I took, did not do it justice. At Mana, we walked up the rocky path, toward the village, passing houses with thatched or slate roofs, low pitched and with grass drying on the roof for the animals in winter. A little girl of about 2 years of age peered over the edge of a flat roof, big dark eyes on us travellers and her brown hair tied up in pigtails. Her parents were also on the roof, but sat back with the trust that she would not fall, or jump. It was a wonderful sight to see that trust, in letting the little one explore her boundaries and not develop fears that we westerners so often do, protecting our young from exploring, but in safety. We came upon a wonderful sight that made us all laugh. A “Hard Rock Café” the last café of the border said the sign. Glenys had her Net Guide with her and took my photo with it sitting beside the sign. This was to enter a competition for her to win a digital camera through the magazine. I bought some warm locally knitted sheep’s wool hats for my son. He does a lot of kayaking and I suggested to him he could put them on when he came out of the rivers. He tells me they are very warm and loves them. I got two here and one back in Badrinath. I bought woollen socks for myself, made from local sheep’s wool mixed with angora goat’s wool. They are colourful, mostly grey with flecks and sooo warm!!!
To the left were the most beautiful mountains, with steep cliffs, and jagged peaks, a narrow valley, and beautiful blue skies. The valley was inviting and leads to the mountains up behind the Yamnotri temple that we visited about two weeks before (our first walk). Some way up the valley is a large waterfall, but we did not have time to visit it. We walked down to the river gorge, meeting a Sadhu on the way, who was only too happy to pose for a photograph, but we did not converse. He was wrapped in a blanket, covered in ash and prayed with his prayer beads. His dreadlocks were ash covered and wrapped on to the top of his head in a way that is familiar to the Sadhu’s. At the bridge over the gorge, we stopped to marvel at the steepness and power of the flow that crashed down between the rocks. Tibetan prayer flags of many colours were strung across the river on cords and fluttered in the breeze created by the updraughts of the river and the mountains. There was a face in the river waterfall naturally occurring from the rock formations just below a narrow gap in the rocks where an observation deck perches above the ravine. Small bushes of vegetation cling to the rocks and cascade over the edge making it a very interesting site.
We crossed the bridge and slowly walked up the path on the other side. A little off
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