Hardiwar - trip #1

It was an interesting trip into “town”. I find that the description online and in the lonely planet book about Mussoorie being this foreigner friendly bubble all too accurate. Everyone here (well mostly everyone) is used to seeing foreigners with the Woodstock School and language school, being a tourist town etc. – it makes it easy and people don’t stare as much. Nor do they video tape you or take your photo without asking. I am slightly torn over this photo taking thing. I take people’s photos all the time most of the time without asking; particularly if those people are “noise” in the photo (i.e. I take a photo of a landscape which happens to have people in it). So, why then is it such a big deal when people take my photo? I guess its the attitude or feeling I get when – particularly men – go out of their way to video tape/photograph the “white women”. It has a feeling of wrongness, but is this because I’ve been told it’s a bad thing, or would it feel this awkward if I hadn’t been told DON’T LET THE MEN PHOTOGRAPH you? I have definitely felt used after on one or 2 occasions… Typically here, the men/boys will at least ask for permission. In Hardiwar, Clair, a new travel companion, had the guts and knowledge to say in Hindi that it would cost 30Rs for a one photo with her. This got a bunch of laughs but no one paid and took the photos anyway. After this trip I think I am getting a little more used to the beggars, panhandlers and photographers….
I went to Hardiwar for 3 things: 1. To see the temple for a Snake Goddess, 2. To watch the ceremony on the Gats where they light candels and send flowers etc. down the river with their wishes and prayers, and 3. To go on my first jungle safari. Lets just say – it was all disappointing!

The temple was OMG the worst temple Ive been to yet. It was up atop a hill that we took a cable car up to and then at the top it was like going through a gauntlet of panhandlers and stalls of junk for sale. We get into the temple and are immediately accosted by “priests” who want to put a dot on your forehead and take money for their blessings. And just because you have one dot does not preclude the very next man in line to yell at you and insist that you take his dot and blessing, and then of course the very next guy after that. Then once you have gone through those men you are herded past a counter where you pay to have your offerings blessed. Yes, because even before you went up to the temple you buy things like coconuts and sugar candy to give as offerings. But before you give them as an offering you get them blessed – which costs you “donations”. Bypassing the blessing of offering lines You end up in another room where there are little windows and doors where other holy men are sitting and chanting – where again you give more donations for their blessings as well as provide your offerings. The culmulnation of this temple is to be herded as if you are going to get on an amusement park ride to pass a statue of Durga…or at least I think it was Durga. And that’s it. This is the temple. The gauntlet of trinket stalls haunts you as you head down the hill – or you can take the cable car back down and go past yet more trinket stalls. No snakes, no big statues, no solemnity of “templeness”. Loud, dirty, ostentatious, and ugh.

Watching the people en-mass send off their candle lit flower boats of prayers on the Holy Gangies River is beautiful- or so Ive been told. You see, upon arrival, due to the picky nature of some of my travel companions, certain hotels were not up to snuff, thus needing to search for alternative lodgings and of course losing track of time put us 10 minutes late to the ceremony. Seeing how the ceremony only takes 10 minutes we completely missed it. I will go again I am sure but this trip it was a bust.  Saw it in the morning, but not the prayer ceremony.

The Bazaar made up for the disappointing holy experiences.  It was way cool and I helped Clair buy a georgous Sari that I am sad I did not buy one for myself. 

Yet, I still have 9 months so I can find another to satisfy my tastes...

Our hotel, though not as bad as others, was still filled with cockroaches (ok not filled) but had some on the bed...it did have this inspirational thought:

Rajaji National Park

is not hailed as being one of the better parks to visit. I went there knowing this fact, however I was told it is pretty OK for seeing elephants. I wanted to see elephants – Asian Elephants in the wild, which would have made me feel content. Anything else would have been a bonus. I should have known that the trip would not go well when the first thing our driver specifically stopped to show us was a termite mound. We did see prior to this a heard of chital and 2 peacocks,

but these were animals I spotted before the driver. I was more of a tour guide to Sophi and Clair than our driver was…guess that safari training in Africa needs to be put to use somehow. It also didn’t bode well that a 6:30am tour in November is probably not the best time to start due to the early morning fog…that wouldn’t go away.

Our driver sort of knew English but didn’t catch on until later that I liked taking photos of birds… considering that seeing a mammal is a rare occurrence, particularly those like leopards, lions, bears, tigers, elephants, foxes – you know the cool things…so by default I look at birds.

Towards the end of the tour he was stopping for little birds as well as the big things. It wasn’t a complete bust but lets just say I will not be going back to this park unless I go for free or have some insider’s tour. The only elephants I saw were “orphaned” and housed near the tea shop at the entrance. Much like a zoo – and yet no real barriers to keep the elephants in.