First off, we’re back! David and I landed at the San Francisco International Airport at noon on Tuesday, after 24 hours of travel. We went directly to the little garden apartment we’re subletting for a month and crashed hard. I’ll be captioning photos and posting a trip recap soon, but in the meantime, I thought I’d fill in the gaps on the last two weeks of the trip.
On Friday, April 14, we took a bus from Rishikesh up into the mountains to Mussoorie, a hill station established in 1823 that was once a summer getaway for the Brits. Like Darjeeling, Mussoorie is full of Raj relics—Victorian and Edwardian cottages, imposing stone churches, ornate iron lamp posts and gazebos. After the heat of Rishikesh, the cool mountain air was an absolute delight, and unlike our experience in Darjeeling, the weather was blue skies and sunshine.
We stayed in the Hotel Broadway, built in the 1880s but apparently updated in the late 1960s, so that gabled windows and gingerbread trim sit next to mod striped-wood paneling and funky-colored linoleum. I loved it. Our room had green mountain views on three sides and we enjoyed some nice Shabbat downtime reading and relaxing in the room. We also took some scenic walks around town; it was all very low-key.
Mussoorie appears to be a hugely popular weekend destination for middle- to upper-class Indian families. We saw loads of license plates from Delhi and Punjab state, and the streets were packed with out-of-towners, providing a lively venue for evening walks and people-watching. Throughout our trip, we were fascinated by domestic tourism and discovering the places where our interests intersected. Mussoorie also offered us meat—and lots of it—after our spell in ultra-veg Rishikesh. (We couldn’t even get eggs there!) We became regulars at a fantastic tandoori kebab restaurant.
Our main reason for going to Mussoorie, however, was to attend Easter Sunday services at the Union Church (one of many Christian churches in town), which holds services in English. It was a sweet, if slightly odd, experience. There were about 50 people in attendance in the spacious church, built in 1872, and the service started out with what I’d call an Easter pageant: various children and adults came up to the dais and sang songs, read verses or did some other sort of performance. The highlight was when a woman from Los Angeles currently living in Mussoorie, dressed in what looked like a Victorian nightgown, popped an R&B gospel CD into a boom box and performed along with the song in sign language. (If you’ve seen the movie Napoleon Dynamite, think Happy Hands Club. Seriously.)
Afterwards, the minister took over and led a familiar worship service, with songs, prayers, Bible verse readings and a sermon. I got a bit of a shock when the minister selected the first verse and said “Let’s see ... I think I’ll ask one of our guests to read ... How about you?” I stared at his pointing finger, mouthing “Me??” He nodded affirmatively and asked me to please stand so everyone could hear. So I stood up and read a chapter from the Book of Matthew, thinking how strange it was that in India of all places I’d find myself participating in an Easter service!
After the service was over, there was a tea fellowship where we met the minister (he apologized for putting me on the spot!), members and guests, including a brother and sister from Illinois who are working in the area. The four of us went to lunch together; I had to settle for Indian food, even though I was craving ham, sweet potatoes and Mom’s famous orange rolls.
I really love that we were able to find places to celebrate Passover and Easter in India. The experiences were different from what we know at home, but in retrospect, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. At the Passover Seder, as our little group of English speakers scanned the crowd of pot-smoking Israelis, we talked about how all of us—even those who aren’t religious—are drawn to events like this because of the power of memories and family traditions, and the desire to recognize and share them. There’s something special about affirming the familiar in an unfamiliar setting.
We left Mussoorie on Monday, took a train to Delhi and then a plane the next morning to Kashmir, where we spent four days. David described the highlights in his last post. Despite being sick for the first day and a half (yes, I had to squeeze in one last stomach episode), I had an amazing time. As David said, this part of the trip was “less about the details and more about the awe.” There was so much life playing out on the lake—little boats full of vegetables or flowers or schoolkids or pashmina shawls; rows of houseboats, both palatial and crumbling; floating vegetable gardens; kingfishers, hawks and songbirds; and gorgeous light reflecting on the water at all times of day. Spring had just begun to spring, too, so in the surrounding valley, apple trees were blooming pink and fields of mustard blazed gold. (We sampled some Kashmiri apple juice too: fantastic!) And surrounding all this life were the snowy peaks of the Himalaya and the Pir Panjal, making the place feel remote, serene and mysterious. I was glad for the little taste we had, small as it was.
I also have to note that Kashmir was the place we finally started snapping photos of the Indians who were asking to snap photos of us ... and even some who weren’t asking us. We had a ball with it, as proved by the abundance of people pics we’ve uploaded to flickr.
Our last two days in Delhi were pretty surreal. After a morning of whirlwind sightseeing—to the Red Fort, built by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan in the early 1600s when he moved his capital from Agra to Delhi, and to the Jama Masjid, also built by Shah Jahan, one of the largest and best known mosques in India—we checked into The Oberoi, a luxury five-star hotel. Much fine dining (including a Sunday champagne brunch buffet), pool splashing, and HBO-watching in a fluffy down bed ensued. We reckoned we spent as much money there in a day and a half as we had in an average two-and-a-half-week period during the rest of our travels!
Stay tuned for the recap...
