Phase IV and V: GREAT SUCCESS!!

(This is just an email I sent out to everyone on my big list, but I know that I'm neglecting some of you, so just in case here it is)

Greetings all!

Shalom, Salam, and Namaste from the Middle East and the Indian Subcontinent!

As has been the trend of all my travels to date, email updates have become progressively slack as my trip has gained steam, and boy, there’s enough steam in here to fill a sauna; I’ve now been on the road for exactly 285 days.

When we last left off, my budget was on life support from the financial beating that Europe had pummeled me with. Well, I’m glad to report that my wallet has made a speedy recovery thanks to the care of Uncle Jordanian Dinar, Aunt Egyptian Pound, and the Nepali & Indian Rupee twins (despite a thwarted coup attempt from their dubious cousin, the Israeli Shekel). Though the sights have been expensive (the enterence fee to the Taj Mahal cost more than a week’s accomidation), the rooms, food, and sheesha have been decidedly cheap.

The most recent additions to my travel portfolio have been Phase IV (to be named in clever fashion at a later date), which saw me trugging across the hot sands of the Middle East, and Phase V (to be named in equally clever fashion), which brought me up to the Nepali Himalayas and down to the cows and chaos of India. My merit badges are as follows:

Jesus on Water Badge: for floating effortlessly at sunset on the hypersaline Dead Sea

Million Star Hotel Badge: for camping out under the planetarium-like desert skies of Wadi Rum (Jordan) and the Egyptian Sahara

Supermodel Diet Badge: for fasting for a week during Ramadan

Stubborn Pursuit Badge: for (fruitlessly) chasing a camel across the desert

Jacques Cousteau Badge: for diving the H.M.S. Thistlegorm wreck (Read Sea)

Hebrew Culinary Badge: for ingesting copious amounts of humus, schwarma, and falafel.

Indiana Jones Badge: for visiting Petra, the Hollywood home of the Holy Grail

Civil Disobedience Badge: for attending a protest in Palestine

2.5 Mile High Club Badge: for 2 weeks hiking around and into the Annapurna Sanctuary (Even at 4.2km at base camp, Annapurna I still towers over at over 8km)

Planet of the Camels Badge: for rubbing elbows with thousands of spitting, humped animals at the Pushkar Camel Fair

Line of Fire Badge: for dodging countless rogue M-80s during Diwali, India’s “Festival of [Explosive] Lights”

I’ve Been to Hell and Back (Twice) Badge: for surviving Delhi not once, but two times

Humbling Structures Badge: for visiting both the Taj Mahal and the Great Pyramids of Giza

Digestive Prowess Badge: for not succumbing to India’s infamous explosive diarrhea


It’s crazy to think that a (very) lucky few of you will get to see my handsome face in less than 2 months, when I pass through NYC on my way to South America (the not-yet-confirmed final leg of my trip). Anyone who will be in the metropolitan area between Jan. 21-29, make your appointments now.

But there’s still one more great adventure lined up before then; next stop: AFRICA.

India: Are You F***ing Kidding Me?

Sorry for the vulgarity, but visit the Indian Subcontinent and tell me if you don’t find more applications for this 5 word phrase than anywhere else in the world. Between all the delicious curries and breathtaking sights, you’ll see so many scenes that leave you aghast and asking yourself, “Are you f***ing kidding me?”

I could go on for pages and pages about this one, but I’ll just limit myself to the first pair of places that pop into my head: the streets of Delhi and the Burning Ghats of Varanasi.

Take Delhi. Most places in the world are fairly difficult to describe in a paragraph. Delhi isn’t. Here is its essence in just on word: MADNESS. Close your eyes and picture the worst rush hour possible and extend it to 24 hours. Now crank up the MADNESS knob past ten. If you imagined reckless rickshaws, homicidal taxis bent on taking you as far as possible from your destination, carts selling everything from produce to orphans, face-painted shamans chanting at the sky, street kids chasing after you for money, and packs of unyielding dogs and goats, then you’re starting to get the picture. Now, take away the painted traffic lanes, crosswalks, and 2/3rds of our traffic laws, and mix in a dash of con artists trying to get you to “export rubies” and a few men and women screaming belligerently at no one in particular, just trying to play their part in this orgy of entropy.
The only things that seem to impose order in Delhi are cows. If there is just one certainty in India, it’s that no one will ever harm these sacred Hindu animals (on pain of death). Carts, cars, taxis, pedestrians, and modes of transportation that you’ve never seen or dreamed of skirt around them at full speed, careening into (and of course injuring) each other, as the culprits meander happily through the middle of head-on traffic, knowing that they are king of their domain.

Enter Varanasi, one of the holiest cities of Hinduism. People come here for 2 reasons: to bathe in the sacred waters of the Ganges River and to die. At Manikanika Ghat (the “Burning Ghat”), fires are alight 24 hours a day. It’s no marshmallow roast they’re having; look closely and you’ll see a pair of legs sticking out from the end of the flames. This is where people are creamated to have their ashes cast out into the Ganges. Cows, goats, and dogs rummage between fires, scavenging for edibles, while ships carrying firewood piled 2 stories high wait their turn at the docks. Just off-shore, a group of men wade waist deep in the ashy water, sifting for gold earings and jewelry that may have been set adrift with the charred bodies. Some people, like lepers and children, are not permitted to get creamated, so instead they have large stones tied to them and are simply sunk to the bottom of the river. On any given day, a number of degenerated bodies float back to the surface.
According to the Lonely Planet travel guide, surveys of the Ganges River have shown that there are nearly 1.5 million fecal cholera bacteria per 100mL… safe bathing water should be less than 500. And less than 20 meters away from the burning and sinking of bodies, pilgrims are fully immersing themselves in the same dirty waters, going so far as to use their fingers to brush their teeth with it.

Are you f***ing kidding me?

Trekking the Himalayas

Nepal wasn't on my itinerary this trip. To be honest, I'm not even sure that I could have placed it correctly on a blank world map before I left the States last February. I generally try to stay out of countries where the current king has usurped power by unloading 2 full rounds of ammunition into the entire royal family (especially ones in which it has happened so less than 2 years ago). But a fellow traveler in Cairo had informed me that October and November are the best months to visit Nepal, when the monsoon clouds pull back to reveal clear blue skies as the backdrop for gargantuan snow-capped peaks. I didn't need much convincing; I was headed to go trekking in the Himalayas.

On the first day of my trek, I was scheduled to fly on a small charter plane (18 seats all counted). Knowing my luck in cavalier modes of transportation (see my earlier tale of the Cambodian Boat ride), I was a bit skeptical about stepping onto a plane that might as well have been a radio-controlled toy, but my bad travel karma was repaid to me in dividends; the flight was gorgeous, whizzing through valleys of some of the world's biggest mountains. Even better, it took just 18 minutes to reach our destination.

From here began my 12 day trek from village to village in the Annapurna Circuit. Each day involved roughly 6-8 hours of hiking as the trail took me through an incredible variety of terrain from the bleak rocky tundra of Tibetan Mustang to hills of lush terraced rice fields and monkey filled bamboo forests. En route, I got to meet and learn about the customs of the minority Thakali people, witness the sacred musical chanting of refugee Tibetan monks, and have my taste buds assailed by some awesome apple crumble and apple brandy in Marpha (Nepal's apple capital, as it were). Finally, I stood drop-jawed as I found myself in the middle of Annapurna Sanctuary, where half a dozen Himalayan mountains towered over me from all sides (and being "towered over" while standing at 4130m is a pretty damn humbling experience). The tallest of these peaks, Annapurna I, sits pretty at over 8000m.

But grand vistas and good booze aside, the real eye-opening experience for me was trekking in a new pair (i.e. not worn in) of one-size-too-small hiking boots. While Annapurna Base Camp has left quite a lasting impression on me, the dozen or so blisters that I amassed during my journey have rendered me walking in a splendid gimp-like fashion that have left quite an impression of their own.