It’s a very strange feeling being back in India as a traveler again, but this time as a couple. It’s difficult not to think about our own spirituality when religion is everywhere, from impromptu Sufi music being sung in the park, or masjids, gompas, mandirs, and gurdwaras rooted in history that resonate deeply.
Oh Ma! My Knee! : Sona and Navdeep Climb to Vaishno Devi
I don’t really know when or how it was decided that Navdeep and I were going to make the pilgrimage to Vaishno Devi. Neither of us are terribly religious, he had never heard of it, and it was an 18-mile hike up and back. Not something to be taken on lightly.
Perhaps it was my mom who planted the thought. She seems like a likely culprit. She’s been a few times herself, and seriously believes prayers delivered at Vaishno Devi will be considered and answered. This concept of manate (muhnatay) drives millions to the site of the Mata Ki Darshan every year. Despite the treacherous hike, despite the heat, despite the fact that the actual darshan is maybe three seconds at best, a blur of armed guards, marble and gold.
We’ve all had a tough year though, and I know my mom saw our trip as an opportunity to sprinke a little hope, at the very least. So Navdeep and I made the trek carrying the prayers of our loved ones. Not that we didn’t have a good time doing it. We looked at the hike as a bonding adventure, and we took it seriously. Though we were amongst the few pilgrims who could afford a 250-rupee pony ride or even a 3000-rupee one-way helicopter ride to the top, we wanted to make the trip ourselves, along with the thousands of other Indians from all over the country (and the planet) who chose that day to make the climb.
But it wasn’t easy. My mom promised us that the hike would be two hours up and two hours down. Ha! Maybe if you take a super-speedy pony. I’m no avid hiker, but I can handle a good walk. So Navdeep and I set out at 11 a.m. at a leisurely pace, stopping for ice cream, cold coffee and juice, posing for pictures, admiring the hilly countryside. By two p.m., we had barely hit the half-way mark. By the time we reached the actual site of the shrine at six p.m., it was sunset and we were exhausted.
Eat This Page: Tibetan Momos in Mcleod Ganj, Dharmsala
McLeod Ganj, known as Little Lhasa or Dhasa by Tibetans, has one of the largest population of Tibetan refugees, and is the headquarters of the Tibetan government in exile. So we thought a lovely way to spend our morning and getting to understand the culture of Tibetans in Exile would be through the food.
We went down a little side street and found Lhamo’s Kitchen run by (who else) Lhamo, a very laid back and funny cooking maestro, who wears an apron over a wife-beater. You can’t get more authentic than that. Actually you can: his cooking school is in his living room. An interesting thing we learned about momos – stuffed dumplings – is that in Tibetan, “Mo” means ”tasty.” So, in effect, momo means “tasty tasty.” Very fitting if you ask us!
We learned to make traditional Tibetan momos with veggie fillings, but the momos can be stuffed with anything you like. To prove this point, Lhamo told us we could even put chocolate in it! Traditional fillings are mutton, potatoes, and Tibetan veggies. The fillings we used in our course were vegetable, cheese, and spinach.
Photo Friday: Massive, Orange Fish at the Golden Temple in Amritsar!
We spent Sona’s birthday at the Golden Temple in Amritsar, where we caught the sunrise, ate some delicious food at the free community kitchen, and watched these huge, orange fish swim through the sarovar in a body of water surrounding the Golden Temple. Absolutely gorgeous. Don’t worry, there was also cake.
Oh Ghee, If You Were Only Calorie Free!
Between the two of us, Navdeep and I have probably already gained 15 lbs. in two weeks. And we haven’t been hoarding junky street food, though we still have big plans to. It’s just that we’ve spent the last two weeks in the heart of Punjab, devouring hearty home cooking. Paranthas, samosas, pakore, daal makhani, paneer in all its wonderous forms, deep-fried buttery omelets. All very tasty. But all very heavy. It wouldn’t be so bad except that the etiquette here dictates that you can’t really say no to what is being offered, especially if you are visiting someone’s home for the first time.
And the daily menu always includes morning cha, inevitably with cookies or other snacks, followed by breakfast, then a mid-morning snack, then lunch, then afternoon cha with samosas or pakoras, then an evening snack, and finally a late dinner. Add to that the occasional 140-calorie Limca or ice cream indulgence, and you’re likely double the already weighty 2000-calorie per day FDA average that fat Americans consume.
Given our comprehensive daily menu, we haven’t really had the urge to splurge on paneer pakore or gol guppas on our own. In fact, we’ve started strategizing on how to cut down on our cholestrol-laden consumption. The problem is that every breakfast item on the Indian menu is fried: eggs, chole puri, paranthas. And Navdeep says toast and/or fruit doesn’t count as a real meal in India. Plus, they put hot milk in the cornflakes here, rendering them completely soggy and useless. Eeeeeeeew.
And the daily menu always includes morning cha, inevitably with cookies or other snacks, followed by breakfast, then a mid-morning snack, then lunch, then afternoon cha with samosas or pakoras, then an evening snack, and finally a late dinner. Add to that the occasional 140-calorie Limca or ice cream indulgence, and you’re likely double the already weighty 2000-calorie per day FDA average that fat Americans consume.
Photo Friday: New Delhi Airport!
When I lived in Dubai as a child, we’d visit India once a year and dreaded coming through the airport. When we got off the plane this time, I was mentally prepared to fight my way through huge crowds, of people with cardboard signs up, and chaos all over the place. I was relieved to see everything inside was rather calm. There weren’t any aggressive taxi drivers forcing us to haggle with their already high prices, or elbows being thrown in our faces just to get to baggage claim. There was even a sign for a pre-paid taxi stand.
