KASHMIR

The hospitality in the houseboat Maria and me found ourselves accommodating in is absolutely out of this world. Our room had wooden walls and ceiling, some surfaces coated with beautiful ornamental shapes. In the middle of the room there was this wood-heated stove, which was all the time filled by our faithful servants. Kashmir-food was stunningly good – not only because I had just started my healing process from my delhi belly, but because of the blend of spices they were using: saffron, cinnamon and cardamom. And the Kashmir tea.. dam!

Srinagar itself was very laid back place, which was just what we needed to escape the noise and other kind of pollution of the bigger cities down south. On the first day we both got some medicines for ourselves from a local pharmaceut. They seem to be working – at least I’m feeling a whole lot better than the days before. Still tired though and occasional nauseating moments, plus the basic liquid output from the rear division. But more and more infrequently.

Nara Nagh

We stayed at this awesomely friendly little village as guests in a gypsy house. The head honcho of the house was called something like Suber (or “Su bäär” in Finnish way of saying), and was this tall guy with smily face and loud voice, always asking “good?”. Then there were his wife and his 5 or 6 children, all girls save one. One of the daughters was married to our hiking guide, Nisar, who was a jolly guy with friendly grin on his face all the time. He would tell us stories about love and how things do not always go as is dictated by the holy book the Qu’ran. He also did some more iffy stuff for me and Maria by arranging a little smoking session in the midst of the last evening. Nisar didn’t like her wife that much, but that’s the way it many times goes in Islamic countries, where parents choose the spouses. But, as our wonderful caretaker Khaliq proved, sometimes this marriage can turn into real and deep love.

The hiking itself was not what we expected. It was more like day-tours and then returning to the base camp. We went different routes and different distances, usually accompanied by a couple of ponies carrying our excessive stuff, and maybe us tourists as well if we had not been well. Only rode the ponies once on the first day. Otherwise the serenity, the nature surrounding, the white-topped mountain scenery, the fresh air and the whole atmosphere was such relaxing that it felt wrong to do anything else than to hike by walking. Nara Nagh village is located 3000 meters above sea level, so we were quite high to begin with. One day we climbed up to 4000 meters on a mountain called Busheri. Its peak lies at 5000 meters. The only reason we did not go higher was that the snow started to reach our knees, which was really too much in those conditions and gears. But we did do some snow fights there, me and Nisar against Maria :) Fair game.

One night we slept in a ten outside the gypsy house and two nights in the gypsy house. Khaliq took such good care of us and told us about Kashmiri people, Kashmiri conflict, Islam and so on. It was all so interesting to learn, to understand the reality and how Islamic religion really is. The food Khaliq prepared for us was absolutely stunning! He taught us how to cook some of the stuff he made, and how to prepare the absolutely tasty Kashmiri tea. We were always treated as royalty and always were seated in very respectful places and so on.

Most I enjoyed this escape to nature in Kashmir, the good food and seeing how people live. Now I understand better how well people are treated as opposed to our own ways. I also noticed that I might not be as personable person as I would like to be. I am kind of shy, or unwilling to show too much interest in other people’s daily lives. Maybe I am selfish?

UPDATE:
I travelled from Jammu to Agra with a train in a AC3-class, where there’s three “beds” on each side of the “cabin”. I did not communicate a whole lot with them since they seemed unwilling and/or unable to speak English. However, at the end of the agonizing 19 hour trip I met this 9-headed family of Keralites (people from Kerala), who were very friendly and interested in me and Finland. We had good laughs about everything, especially dating and marriage, and the differences of them between western and Indian cultures. These guys were very well educated, or on their way to good education, so it was easy to communicate with them. They helped me to reach Agra and made certain I would get off at the right station. Which can be a chore when travelling in India, since no announcements are usually made when stopping at stations. Sometimes even the station names are not marked.

Another interesting person (or actually two persons) we met when we took a jeep ride from Srinagar to Jammu (agonizing 9 hours of travelling in a jeep) was this economics graduate student, who was on his way to Jammu back for studying after visiting his family in Srinagar. Indian hospitality is very deep indeed. They usually commit themselves to the fullest of extent, since we tourists are their guests. They always want to personally get involved, travel with us, or at least give us as much information as possible. This economics student said sorry many times for not being able to join me and Maria on our travels, since he has some exams to conclude. We promised we would come back to Kashmir in 5 years, and the guy promised to visit both Finland and Germany in a very serious tone, so I guess he really meant it. The Keralites said I should contact them whenever I would go to Kerala. They would arrange everything for me. Just like that. And all these people always offered to buy tea for us tourists, which is unheard of in Finland. That’s the way it is. Even more so weird it was when I was waiting for the train in the rainy Jammu train station. This homeless guru-looking guy, who slept in front of the station, walked past me with a tea cup in his hand. He then noticed me, smiled and offered me the tea. I was unsure whether I should take it (certainly at this point I had no idea he was a homeless guy), but I took it and thanked him. Later on I was talking to this phone booth operator boy, who told me that this old man is very friendly and good man. So he was. The boy also was helpful - he helped me find out my correct wagon and seat number. He also mentioned to me earlier that evening that I was actually sitting in an area full with pickpockets, which I kinda suspected from the behavior of these people, but he confirmed it. Fortunately I am always very careful with this sort of things, so nothing was lost. But it was very heart-aching sight to see how the poverty really hits the Indian people.. These people had a lot of children, and they were crying whilst I was sitting just next to them. Mother tried to comfort them. A legless guy came jumping to me and stood there for a while. I did not react (other than saying hello). A girl came to me smilingand reaching her hand with another hand holding a cup. I almost raised my hand to greet. Fortunately I did not guessing what she would do next. I guess they do not have things as good as we do in Finland. I also slept in 2nd class waiting hall unaware of any better places (the train was supposed to leave 23.45, instead it rescheduled to 01.30, which was not so nice). I trusted the common people are OK and not after my belongings, even though I slept with my head on my backpack and handbag safely tucked in my arms. The floor was dirty. A guy next to me tried to pick a fight with any Indian person that would come near him. He would suddenly rise up and start beating the floor with his hard-wood stick, shouting loudly. People just gazed at him and I could here silent laughter from the “audience”. Very hardcore evening this was.