5 days ago, Daniel and I arrived in Rishikesh, for what we expected to be a relaxing time after our trekking in Nepal. And while we did relax plenty, this past week was not without its excitement as well. Our first day consisted of exploring the city, enjoying internet speed that would make a Nepali's head explode, and eating Shabbat dinner at the Chabad House. The excitement began on Day 2, when we were enjoying our morning chai on our balcony, overlooking the Ganges River. Daniel spotted a monkey on the roof of the building next to ours, and enticed him to come over with the chocolate chip 'Hide & Seek' cookies we were eating. The monkey climbed up to the balcony next to ours, and waited for his treat. Daniel, the hero, decided that he wanted a picture, and approached the monkey with his camera. Monkey didn't like this, and quickly showed us his snarling teeth. At this point, I got into defensive mode, as Daniel quickly ran into the room, leaving only me and Mojo (we'll call the monkey Mojo) out there to work things out. I was anticipating an imminent attack, and just wanted to get Mojo away. So I grabbed another cookie, waved it in front of his face so he saw what it was, and then threw it down onto the roof of the building next to ours, where Mojo came from. Mojo didn't like this. I could tell because now his mouth was open completely, showing off all of his teeth, and not in a "look Mom, no cavities!" kind of way. I quickly grabbed the plastic chair out on the balcony, and held it up in the air between me and Mojo, ready to defend against any swipe of his claw, or even a full leap (and subsequent eating of my face). At this point, Daniel came back outside, with his flute in hand, as if it would help him for even an instant against a monkey attack. Perhaps subdueing Mojo with a sweet melody would've calmed him, but unfortunately neither of us can make any such sweet melodies with the flute. Fortunately, Mojo was more bark than bite, and after throwing a little water at him (a helpful tip from our British neighbors), he climbed back down to the other building. Regardless, we still entered the room in a hurry and locked the door. My hands were shaking for the next 15 minutes, and it took 2 cigarettes to calm my nerves. During this time, while I reflected upon what just happened, I told myself that this was surely to be one of many monkey incidents I will experience on my trip, and began to mentally prepare myself for how I would handle the next one.
As an aside, this was not my first traumatizing experience with a monkey. As a child, in Israel, we used to go to the zoo quite often, and the monkeys were always my favorite. On one trip, with my brother, my 2 cousins, and my grandmother, I came to the monkey cage with some sliced up carrots in hand. A small monkey climbed down to me, and I extended my hand with a carrot in it. I was 7 years old or so at the time, and the American wiseasseyness influence was already strong with me. As the monkey grabbed the carrot with his little paw, I said "Here you go. Just kidding!" and pulled it away. I repeated this 2 more times, each time the monkey trying to grab the carrot with all his might. But his paw was just too small, and even against my 7-year-old hand, he wasn't able to win this tug-of-war battle. Despite his size and age though, he was still smarter than me, and I learned this very quickly. While I was focused on his feeble attempts to grab the carrot, he sneakily reached his other hand through the fence, grabbed a handful of my hair, and gave a powerful pull. I screamed in pain, dropped the carrot (which he quickly scooped up), and backed away from the fence, crying. And at that moment, when I was feeling both shame and physical pain, and needed some comfort and support from my family, I was greeted instead by uncontrollable laughter from my cousins, my brother, and even my grandmother. It made the hurt that much worse. But, looking back, it also made the whole event that much more memorable, and I'm sure if I was in their place, I would've peed my pants laughing. But enough about monkeys. For now...
Daniel and I spent two more days walking around Rishikesh, swimming in the Ganges River (upstream from where they burn the bodies) and exploring some waterfalls on the outskirts o the city. We also spent many hours in the various waterfront cafes, eating delicious food and meeting many more travelers. At first I was quite surprised to meet as many Americans as I did, but being that Rishikesh is considered the Yoga Capital of the World, it made a little more sense.
So day 4 arrived - our last full day in Rishikesh - and I already slept through my alarm 2 days in a row and missed the 7:30AM Yoga classes. But the night before we were finally able to rent 2 mopeds, so there was plenty to see and do that day. We started off by driving around the city, exploring areas we hadn't been to before. We also took the opportunity to visit the renowned Maharishi Mahesh Yogi ashram, where The Beatles stayed for a few months and wrote much of the White Album. There was quite a scuffle with the guard watching the gate there, but I'll keep that story out of this blog to avoid incriminating myself and Daniel. We then rode a few kilometers past the opposite side of Rishikesh, where we hiked up to another waterfall. There, we found a group of Indians relaxing in the river. They were on vacation from Delhi, and enjoying a bottle of whiskey they brought from home (no alcohol is sold in Rishikesh), and were very eager to have us imbibe with them. After finishing off the bottle, we rode (cautiously) to the waterfall we visited the day before, and took a walk down the river. This walk turned into a metaphor for my trip. Because I was walking down the river barefoot, I had to be very careful where I stepped in the water, as there were many odd-shaped rocks underneath. But as we walked down, we kept a steady pace, and I was only able to choose what my next step would be within a second, without looking further ahead to determine if I was taking the best path down the river. As I have attempted on this trip to live in the moment, only making decisions that affect my immediate plans, with no regard for the near future, I was walking down that river and only worrying about that next step. So that was a moment of (whiskey-induced) enlightenment for me, and I'm hoping there will be many more, with or without the whiskey influence, along the way.
After this hike, we rode on our mopeds to another, bigger waterfall, where we hung out with some locals. The next day, I woke up early and actually went to a Yoga class. My first attempt at Yoga. It was nice and relaxing, though challenging at times. I will surely try it again at some point, when I regain the feeling in my lower back. Just kidding. I'm already prepared to try another attempt at the One-Legged King Pigeon pose, but this time I'll stretch a little more beforehand.
And so now we are on our way to Dharamsala. I'm sitting on the floor of the train, between the cars, with my legs hanging outside the open door, writing in my notebook. It is quite exhilirating, though frightening when another train comes whizzing by in the other direction, with no warning. While I'm writing about my time in Rishikesh, I'm also reflecting upon my entire trip, and what I've seen and done so far. And for the first time in the 1.5 months that I've been traveling, I have departed for my next destination without any urgency to leave my current location. That's made for a nice change of pace, since I had felt a bit pressed for time up until now, and can really feel the difference now that I'm in no rush to get anywhere else. Rishikesh was a great experience, and I'm expecting that as I continue North, it will only get better, and I will learn to appreciate India, and traveling in general, more and more.
