Side of the road services

10 rupees to the first friend who can guess what these gentlemen are doing.

Find out the answer tomorrow!

Casual sexism in Delhi

Seen in the newspaper:

Jilling Estate Part IV: Final chapter

My final day at Jilling involved the following things: cocktails, cold war spy rooms, learning to separate the wheat from the chaff, astronomy, more hiking, more puppies, more food and a blessing. Please see below for details.

The day started off as every day should, with a morning solo walk through the forest, followed by some midday liquor and a view.

How do you separate wheat from the chaff? No, not figuratively, literally. Apparently, with a homemade wind-machine.

 

Following an enormous lunch, Nandini and Karthik took me up for a hike on the ridge, along the way stopping at the small cabins dotting the mountain. There were some wonderful antiques in the cabins that that Nandini's family rents out (like the below, I think a WWII munitions box from Bridgeport, Connecticut--a town which is near and dear to at least 1 or 2 Barths' hearts).

My favorite relic, however, was the below--a transparent sound proof booth which used to sit in the German embassy and was apparently used during the cold war for meetings between agents from East Germany and West Germany.  The current owner (a former German diplomat) now uses it as a tea house. I think it is REALLY ugly and out of place on the mountain.

 I was very excited when, after a long hike, we finally arrived at the ridge and Karthik pulled out a bottle of pre-mixed gin and tonic he had thoughtfully brought along for the journey. Way to be prepared!

 

We hiked back down before it got dark so the Lalls could stuff me with the pre-dinner snack (I ate like 6 of these and they're larger than they seem) and so I could play some more with the puppies. 

After yet another spectacular sunset, Karthik pulled out his impressively professional looking telescope and dazzled us with the night sky (that's the milky way over Jilling that you're looking at, by the way).

As we were waiting for dinner to be ready (although, I hadn't been hungry in days), hilarity ensued in the kitchen.

Sadly, my time at Jilling ended too quickly and before I knew it I had to go. But not before Nandini's mom blessed me by putting some flowers on my head and decorating my forehead with the traditional tika. (She also gave me a sari, 101 rupees--apparently giving money + 1 rupee extra is a traditional going away gift for new friends--and a bag full for fresh garlic.

Basically, it was a totally awesome weekend and I've promised the Lalls to come back soon.

Jilling Estate Part III: Things to do

So, what does one do with a day in the Himalayas? A pictoral essay.

First, you wake up and get stuffed with breakfast masala eggs, homemade apricot jam and chai.  Pictured below is the first serving of like, four that you will eat. 

Then your farmer host grabs you by the hand and introduces you to the cow, who has clearly put on her best shrubbery to make your acquaintance. (This cow happens to be pregnant so I wasn't able to milk her, but Pavati did make me put my hand on her stomach to feel the calf kicking).

Your host also introduces you to a pair of bulls who swear their "just friends".  When you ask which bull knocked up the pretty little heifer above the answer is a bit confusing: the doctor. After further inquiry the situation becomes clear--little Bessie apparently has been getting fertility treatments from the local vet, including daily sperm injections via syringe.

Then, your host, aged 55+ and clad in a sari, scrambles up a plum tree in order to harvest the final plums of the season. You very helpfully hold up the box to collect the plums in and eat some when she's not looking.
 

It's time to eat again. The below pictured food is just one of the many plates being served during the lunch. (My favorite was this amazing fresh mutton dish because most Indians in Delhi seem to be vegetarians so the non-veg food options are fairly limited--and somewhat hygienically iffy)

You're too stuffed to do anything much after lunch, so you make friends with a delightful adolescent who is also an excellent photographer and enjoys listening cheesy country music almost as much as you do. 

Once you've woken up from a mini siesta in the sun, your friends take you for a hike, pointing out the various birds and wildlife as you go. In one brief but exhilarating moment of danger you watch a pine martin stalk and almost kill a pheasant, who makes a triumphant escape by flying away. Sadly, in its panic the pheasant flies directly into a clothes line where it snaps its neck and explodes into a ball of feathers. (No gruesome pictures, I run a family-friendly blog here, folks).

At the top of the mountain, your friends show you a deceptively steep hill referred to as "the rolling place". You all give it a go (Nandini, the best roller of us all, pictured below)

 

 

On the way back you notice small shrines spread throughout the forest (below, a Christian shrine, as Nandini's paternal folk are Christians).

Then, somehow you, your friends and a dog end up on the roof.

And finally, as the day wears down, you eat a ton of more food, check your room for shrews and scorpions (finding none present, fortunately) and drift off to sleep.

Man, what a tiring day. But wait, there's still more to come tomorrow . . . .

Jilling Estate Part II: Meet the hosts

Before I start talking about the amazing things I did and saw while on Jilling Estate, I want to tell you all about my idiosyncratic and utterly delightful hosts, the Lalls.

Meet the famous Steve Lall

 

 

Every guest that I met while staying at Jilling mentioned that s/he had come to meet "the famous Steve Lall". Even Karthik, when I asked him how he met Nandini, told me that he'd come as a visitor to Jilling Estate in hopes of meeting the famous Steve Lall. So I asked Karthik what made his father-in-law so famous.

"Well, around these parts he's quite famous as a conservationist and larger than life personality," Karthik said. "You've heard the story about him shooting at poachers, right? And choosing to go live in the wilderness, especially considering his elite background and the life he was bred for, makes him quite an unusual character."

What is the famous Steve Lall's elite background and the life he was bred for? Well, according to Karthik, Steve Lall's father was a powerful sahib (I think that's the word he used), the governor of an Indian state and friend to the ruling families of India. When the Shah of Iran and Prince Phillip each came to visit India, Nandini's grandpa took them hunting . . . with little Steve in tow of course.

Steve himself told me this story: "There was Prince Phillip and my father, posing amongst the hundreds of ducks they'd shot. It was a total massacre. But some of the ducks weren't dead--merely wounded and in pain. So I went around snapping necks of the ducks--a mercy killing. My father got quite angry at me for making such a spectacle in front of the Prince. He said it was dishonorable to kill a sitting duck."

Little Steve was sent to the best British-style schools available to prepare him for the elite life. But after a speckled career in the Air Force, Steve married the "wrong" woman, was disowned by his family (though, I guess they re-owned him eventually), and eventually moved into the Jilling wilderness. But more on that story later.

I think Steve Lall is what would happen if a non-misogynistic Ernest Hemmingway and Santa Clause got together and had a love child who was then educated in a Roald Dahl book. And to back of that assertion, here are some of the stories that Steve Lall told me about himself over the course of the weekend.

- about his young life in boarding school: "There were 5 boys bullying a younger fellow for being gay or some such poppycock. So I defended the boy and got into a fight with his tormentors. I took on all 5 of them at once! But, of course they thrashed me. They tied me down, stripped me naked, and covered me with shoe polish--which, by the way when it dries and contracts, stings like hell! But I never told any of the teachers who had thrashed me so those boys then began to respect me. I was never a sneak."

- about his older life in boarding school: "All of the teachers were having a meeting or something. My friend and I peed into two balloons and launched them at the table. My friend missed, but I was born to be a fighter pilot. Splash! My pee balloon hit the middle of the table. But, I waited around to see it hit and the teachers all saw me. Boy, that was the beating of my life."

- about his life as a fighter pilot: "I had no respect for authority and a great love of dogs--which two things got me into trouble often. I would let my dog come to the mess table and sit in the place reserved for officers--and refuse to move him. But I loved that dog. The first time I was ever court-martialed it was because I had taken the dog up in the fighter jet with me. I had made her special safety straps and off we went across India! Doing spirals and barrel rolls! She had a great time."

- about fighting bears: "One time I was out in the fields at dusk  and was attacked by a Himalayan grizzly bear--the most ferocious in the world. She actually took a swipe at me! But I had my gun and shot her. She was so close to me that the blast from the gun singed her fur. Can you imagine?"

- about death: "My dog was a great companion, but when she got too old to run around and do the things she loved it was time. We walked up to a beautiful place on the mountain where we said our goodbyes before I shot her. That's how I want to go. Actually, I have my grave already dug up there." (Editor's note: this is true. I've seen the grave.)

To fill our your mental picture of Steve Lall, this is a man who loves jazz music and old movies, who thinks its "very sensible" that I would want to live with a boyfriend before marriage, who fought in two wars, who drops archaic britishisms in his speech, and who owns two or three motorcycles which he drives around on extended road trips when the mood strikes. He's pretty much amazeballs.

Meet Pavati Lall, a Disney princess witch doctor

Nandini's mom Pavati is from the area around Jilling. She's a farmer, a chef extraordinaire, a teller of gruesome tails aimed at convincing her children not to do foolish things, and a witch doctor.  (But apparently she doesn't witch doctor anymore because it took to much of her energy and the family asked her to stop before she drained herself completely). After seeing her work with animals, I'm also fairly convinced she's an undercover Disney princess, and I offer the below photograph of her chilling with a baby deer as proof.

 

Pavati speaks broken English, though it's better than she thinks it is (and, certainly better than my Hindi). As an uneducated village girl she was, apparently, totally unsuitable to be the wife of a governor's son--at least Steve's parents certainly thought so. But one day Steve invited Pavati out to hunt and they came across an enormous buck. Steve reached for his gun, but before he could even aim properly Pavati had shot the animal through the heart, pulled out a giant knife, and began to skin it. Karthik told me: "Steve says that's the moment he fell in love."

And to complete your picture of Pavati, this is a woman who wears a sari while scampering up a plum tree or mucking out a cow shed, who was constantly trying to stuff me with food, who showed no reluctance in chatting with me despite the language barrier, who took her whisky straight, and who insisted on blessing me formally before I left the house.

So, those were my hosts for the weekend.

And just 'cause, here's another puppy photo. Awwwwww!

Jilling Estate: Part I

I took off last weekend to Jilling Estate in the Himalayas. Jilling is the childhood home of my friend Nandini and her parents now run a very small guest house there for people looking to escape the heat and crowds elsewhere in India. And I mean really escape--Jilling is a two hour climb uphill from the nearest road and everything in the house must be brought up by manpower. (I had erroneously assumed, actually, that there would be like, donkeys or mules or something, that could carry up luggage and other heavy things. Nope, the beasts of burden are local sherpas, including this guy below (nicknamed "Hercules" by Nandini's husband, Karthik). Hercules must be at least 65, but that didn't stop him from tying both my and Karthik's big hiking backpacks to his head, and sprinting up the mountain. Holy crap--that man should have been an Olympic athlete. 

 

(Hercules, doing his thing. Those are two full size hiking backpacks tied to his head)

 

But I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, really. The trip to Jilling is nine hours by road from Delhi (plus, of course, the two hour hike up the mountain). On the drive there Nandini, who was born on the Jilling Estate (at home by candlelight, as there was no electricity then) and grew up there (home schooled, because who is going to hike up and down a mountain every day to get to class?) told me about the place. Her family farms and grows most of its own food. They price the cabins which they rent to guests below market-price because Nandini's dad believes that anyone who wants should be able to experience true wildlife (and, if you can't afford the price anyway, just let him know). The main house started as a cow shed, but little by little additional rooms were tacked on. The house is, by the way, by no means small, but still has quite a cozy feel to it. There is no central heating--which can be an issue for Himalayan winters--but there is a small main room with a fire place in it which folks can gather around when things get cold. There is running water, but no showers or baths, so the family heats up water in a kettle which they then take bucket showers with. 

 

(Cottage on the hill)

There is no internet, but finally, decent cell service. Before, Nandini told me, they would take bookings via a phone located all they way down the mountain--every other day local guys would carry up the booking inquiries and carry down the family's responses.  On the day that a guest was actually expected Nandini would have to climb a tree so she could watch the road at the bottom of the mountain. When she saw a new car roll in she would alert her parents who would send a guide down the mountain.

 

The mountain used to be overrun with bears, tigers, leopards, etc., but nowadays the bears and tigers have been hunted out. But, there are still plenty of leopards around, so the family always locks up the 5 dogs (and 2 puppies!) in the evening, which is when the leopards hunt. Nandini's father, Steve Lall, is first and foremost a conservationist and has dedicated the latter part of his life to preserving the Jilling forest and wildlife. (Note, the best stories Nandini told me were about her family--but I'll leave those for tomorrow's posting.) 

 

The preservation efforts of Nandini's family are visibly notable because all the way to Jilling we passed these sad Himalayan hillsides which had been totally stripped of vegetation, resulting in dangerous, ugly, enormous landslides. Nandini explained that the hills being stripped of vegetation are, by and large, a result of overpopulation as poor Indians cut down the trees for shelter and fuel for the winter. Steve Lall has able to keep people from cutting down the Jilling trees because he shoots at them. He hasn't hit one yet, though--he told me he keeps missing!

 

 

(The lush forest of Jilling)

Anyway, after the nine hour drive from Delhi we arrived at the end of the road and started our hike up. About halfway up Karthik suggested we take a certain shortcut which I discovered was the steeper, but morally superior way. The shortcut passed by the cottage of a widow with three daughters. Karthik explained that, after the death of the widow's husband, local gossip rumored that she became a lady of the night, shall we say,  in order to provide for herself and her children. (And in fact, a stone outside of her cottage was marked with an arrow piercing a heart, pointing to her door). Given the widow's reputation as a sometime sex worker, the women of the hill began to avoid interacting with her and got upset when their husbands would use the shortcut. So Nandini and Karthik, as major landowners in the area, always made a point of walking by the widow's house to show that, in Karthik's words, "Whatever she chooses to do is her own business and no one should stigmatize her for it." They also made certain to bring chocolate for the widows' children. 

A moral shortcut indeed. 

 

(View from just over the widow's house)

Here's something else I learned during that two hour hike. Nandini not only knows every single person that lives on the hillside, but also the name of every dog. She can identify any bird from its call, most animals from their tracks and can smell a leopard (which she says have a distinctive smell, though I can only smell forest). Basically, she's like the most amazing nature guide ever. 

 

(Nandini and Karthik hamming it up for me on the hike up)

(I meet Nandini's aunts and nieces on the hike up)

Anyway, we finally made it to the top of the mountain, where Nandini's parents and 7 dogs welcomed me. Then Nandini's parents tried to kill me with overeating delicious delicious foods and over drinking the several bottles of alcohol that Hercules, in addition to everything else, had lugged up the mountain.

 

But more on that tomorrow . . . .

(The welcome wagon)

(Sunset over the Jilling forest)

 

 

Mini-hiatus

Hey y'all, my blog will be on hiatus until early next week because tomorrow morning I'm leaving town for a loooooong weekend in the Himalayas. I'm actually going to one of the more remote parts of the Himalayas (9 hours from Delhi by car, plus 2 hours by foot, because there are no roads up there). In fact, it's so remote someone did a TV segment on this guest house's remoteness! (Which you can see here.) 

So, needless to say, I suspect that my internet access will be somewhat spotty, and you'll all have to wait until next week to learn about my awesome sojourn away from the Delhi heat.
 

Kadimi's samosas

Ok, I know that several of my blog posts have mentioned my growing obsession with Kadimi's samosas. (So crispy. So flavorful. So cheap!) But I don't believe I have yet actually showed you what this holy grail of samosas looks like. So, for your drooling enjoyment, please see below.

Ok, perhaps on the outside they don't look like anything special, but once you peek inside the hood you see that, unlike the samosas you get in the US--which tend to be filled with mashed potato grizzle and maybe some shriveled up peas--these guys are just chock full of vegetable-y goodness!

The one on the right was the mixed vegetable samosa and the one on the left was the califlower samosa. The other awesome thing about Kadimi's samosas, by the way, is that there is a wide variety of bizarre flavors--apparently there's even a Chinese noodle-filled samosa! (But I'm working my way up to trying that one, because although I DO have faith in Kadimi's samosa magic the idea of a noodle-filled samosa kinda grosses me out).

Also, for the record, Kadimi produces the best lassis in town as well, for the bargain basement price of 10 rupees! (Which is like less than 20 cents). And guess what, I've discovered I'm not the only blogger obsessed with Kadimi's samosas!

And I'll end this post right there as I'm getting too hungry from looking at pictures of these samosas.