Weekend Roadie Part One

On Friday morning, Mrs. Vizwaneth, Nitya, and I departed at 4a.m. for the mountains. We left New Delhi in the pitch black, no street lamps or accurate road signs to guide us. In India there is no civic sense, and Indians stick advertisements on road signs – in consequence getting from place to place is very difficult. Our driver continually asked locals for directions. My throat ached while driving through the polluted Capital. Soot covered our car. Black emissions filled the air. I imagined my lungs blackening with every breathe. While driving I watched the cows, pigs, donkeys, monkeys, and stray dogs eating garbage. I watched in awe as families of four crammed onto one motorcycle. Cars meant for five held twelve, three people in the font passenger seat, men sitting one on top of each other. We drove by villages, and fields and fields of sugar cane. Hundreds of monkeys waiting patiently along roadsides hoping drivers would throw food scraps outside of their car windows.
As we began getting closer to the town of Mussoorie tears began streaming down my face. I never imagined visiting the Himalayas this early in my life time. The scenery looked SO beautiful. Houses, schools, and markets built on mountain tops. Tibetans roaming free praying at their Buddhist Temples – something they are no longer allowed to do in their previous country, Tibet – because of the Chinese occupation. While staying in Mussoorie, I visited Christ Church established in 1836, the oldest church in the Himalayas, a Buddhist Temple, markets, and I went on long steep walks.
At night, Nitya and her mother barely slepped because monkeys played ontop of our hotel's roof.