....The next day after having an incredible time in the mountains, I was headed to Jammu (the anti-american city). It took only 7 hours from Palghum by bus, and I wanted to get an early start to make sure I wouldn't be walking around the city at night trying to find a guest house.
I got up bright and early at 5am, and walked down the wooden stairs to make chai for Mustaq and I. We sipped quietly- me- feeling very proud of myself to master at least one item in the Indian cuisine. I slipped on my backpack and we walked enjoying the morning. The sun was just coming up and a hazy mist had settled in the valley. The army camp next door was already up doing a drill.
We walked into town to the bus stand, and found out the 200rupie bus was leaving from the Yatra Camps below the city. We walked down the hill to see so many hindu pilgrims camped out in tents, hustling to get on the bus back to their home town after trekking for a month in the hills. It was busy and loud and I noticed all the people had bus tickets. Mustaq asked a nice tall man which bus was going to Jammu for 200rupies. I was so thankful he was there to speak in Urdu. I got on a bus with a family of 18 trekkers, and was welcomed by this nice man who assured me "if you have any trouble with anything, ask my family to help you." I felt blessed to be on such a great bus and took a seat next to this nice middle age woman. I said goodbye to Mustaq and he started trudging up the hill in his little redvest sweater.
5 minutes later the bus driver told me to get off the bus because I needed a ticket. A man came and sat in my place. I got off the bus, and for the next four hours I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to find a bus going to Jammu.
This nice man told me I had to go into the Yatra camps to get a ticket, and I asked someone else, and they told me to follow him. I walked with him far away from the busses, went through this turnstile security check which this female officer asked if I had clearance to go into the Yatra camps. I quickly motioned to my friend outside, and she let me go. Once inside the camp, I saw all these makeshift tents set up like a city. Chai tea stalls, hot paratas cooking, clothing stores, and people sleeping in tents all organized on a grid with roads and little dirt alley ways in which cows and chickens stalked.
One chai tea later, I found out I was in the wrong place, and walked back to the busses where I found a bus going to Jammu. I asked the bus driver how much it was, and he told me 300rupies. But I knew that all the locals were paying 200 and he was just being a jerk and charging me more because I was a foreigner.
I stuck my big lip out, and told him I wasn't paying anymore than 200rupies. I was impatient, tired, and it was now 8am which meant I was getting a late start. My friend tried to bargain down the price for around 5 minutes, until a nice punjabi man, tall with a black turban pulled out a hundred rupies from his wallet. I was taken back at his punctual kindness and my deliberate predigest attitude. I quickly thanked him and got in the bus- yet nature call took me out of the bus.
I asked around for a bathroom, but the only one was all the way in the Yatra camps, and I didn't have time to walk all the way back. The men pointed up the rocky slope on the mountain suggesting I make the best use of nature and quickly because the bus was leaving. I slowly turned my head towards the rocky treeless slope and held my arms wide and let out a long"thank you......!" as I howled sarcastically, muttering to myself.
Everyone thought this was so funny- me being the only white girl, having to run up this rocky slope to go pee. A ring of laughter started out with one man, then a group formed watching me scramble up the rocks, and they all started laughing hystarically. This however did not help the fact it felt like my bladder was about to explode, and the dilemma of finding something big enough that would cover my white ass.
I got to the top of the ledge where there was flat ground, and two men smoking weed. They pointed to a metal frame with cloth blowing in the wind (the outhouse) and I thanked them and ran over to do my business. The torn cloth didn't cover much, especially since the wind was blowing the cloth around. I squatted and tried to hold it taunt to give myself some privacy, yet could not ignore the cloth, hanging from the top of a 6 foot frame, was only 3 feet long and a foot wide- hardly enough to cover my bare butt. Somehow even though my face was the only thing hidden from the group of onlookers below, I felt like I had a little privacy. I couldn't see them, even though their laughter roared even louder when they saw me trying to hide behind the 3 feet cloth. I came down from the mountain top red-faced, and ready to go.
I was really stressed now because it was really late and the bus was taking forever to leave! I had a seat behind the drivers seat, and he constantly was turning around to talk to me. I drew a little in my notebook, took a nap, and journaled trying to avoid from talking with him. At one point when I was sleeping I felt him touching my leg, and I immediately sat up and told him to stop touching my leg. He didn't touch me the rest of the bus trip. The trip was supposed to take 7 hours, but it ended up taking 15 hours! I was getting really impatient, and we stopped for an hour in this little town, which was a huge waste of time.
I got out, went to a bathroom (a real one) and washed my face. My face was so dry from driving in the bus next to the window, the skin on my forehead was cracked in blood was running down my face. I looked like I had just been in a war. I got a chai tea from this cute little kid with dimples. There were these two boys dressed as Baba G's who came up and also drank chai. I talked with them for awhile, then was distracted by the starving mule limping towards the trashcan for his afternoon meal, wincing with a swollen fetlock hard as a rock, and hips bleeding covered in swollen scabs. Can you say animal abuse?! I was so mad. I went over to pet the poor creature, only to see random parts of his body looked like they had been put through a cheese grater. I couldn't look at him chewing on newspaper, and licking the dead dog below any longer. I walked away and asked the bus driver to hit the road or I would find my own ride to Jammu. He said we would stay 10 minutes longer. I got on the bus and tapped my foot impatiently. We should have already been there by now, and the sun was going down.
We drove on after a bunch more people came on the bus, including a police officer with a huge machine gun. I was getting hungry, and hadn't eaten anything all day, so I pulled out some puffed rice from my bag Mustaq had given me the night before. I offered some to the officer and he declined roughly stating "he doesn't need food, it's a sign of weakness." I nodded, already feeling weak and pissed off, and solemnly ate my rice puffs as we drove more down the road. We slowed down to pass a police check point, where there was a huge ring of people that circled around the bus, and a man started spitting on the police officer inside the bus. The officer got out of the bus, and hit the man to the ground and pointed his gun at the man to shoot him. It all happened so fast I didn't have time to process it. The officer just threatened the man yelling at him with the gun pointed at him, yet didn't shoot. He got back in the bus, and we drove off quickly.
It was now dark. We kept driving for a couple more hours. There were these nice dressed Indian guys who had the seat behind me, and one of them was born in Thailand. We had fun together speaking a mix of Thai, English, and Hindi. We took some pictures, but I wasn't really in the mood to party. I was really mad the bus driver was being so lazy. He dropped everyone off at the Jammu railway stand an hour later which meant I was the only person in the bus. My mind started ticking. I felt like I was preparing myself for something bad to happen.
The bus driver pulled over and stopped in the city at this bar to buy a couple of beers, yet put them under his seat and continued to drive. I asked where we were going, and he said the bus stand. I heaved loudly and pouted, wanting to get out of this bloody bus. We drove slowly on this dark lonely road. Just a creaky old metal bus, a creepy Indian driver, and little me on the streets of Jammu. I felt the hairs on my back stand up, like some torrential lightning strike was going to hit me from behind. The bus driver slowed down, and parked on the lonely dark street. He quietly pulled out the beers and started opening one. "What about you and me share a room," he said shooting me a glance and grinning, his gold tooth shining in the moonlight. "It's too expensive, and besides I'm married and don't sleep with other men," I said, trying to debate if it would be safer to stay in the bus or to get out and walk on the street.
"I'll let you sleep in the bus for free," he said as he pulled up another beer, supposedly for me. "Here, have a beer and-"
"How far to the bus stand?" I demanded, cutting him off. "What? Oh- only 5kilometers from here." He said, and put his bottle opener down. He was actually going to stop and drink and then drive again, and who knows if we would even go to the bus stand at all! I was so pissed that he was drinking, that the ride had taken 15 hours, and that I was now alone on a dark street, in the middle of Jammu, the most dangerous city for an American to be in right now. He continued to fiddle with the beer. I really didn't want to have to get up and leave, and heaved a huge breath of air out, stressed, frazzled, and plain mad. I grabbed my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, stood up and walked to the door to open it. I pulled on the black handle and it was locked. I pulled again, harder this time yet it didn't budge.
"Open this door!" I said forcefully. He motioned for me to come over and join him for a beer. "Open the door!" I said louder this time. I repeated this 3 times shouting, trying to not let my voice crack, and on the 3 time was ready to kick out the window, cry for help, or kill the driver to open the door myself. I wasn't about to get raped in the back of an Indian bus in the middle of nowhere. Even in the night, he could see I was serious, and finally opened the door, demanding I pay him 100rupies for no reason.
My feet hit the pavement hard, and I stormed out of the bus, and began walking in the opposite direction the bus was facing. There was a homeless Baba laying naked on the sidewalk with nothing but a piece of cloth around him. He smiled at me as I walked past him, face illuminated by the glow of his cigarette, and dreads hanging long around his shoulders. I gave him the look, and a husky "hey," and continued walking.
In the distance I saw a circular light, and the put-put from the engine of a rickshaw coming down the road. I stuck out my arm to flag it down, and told the driver "cheep room under 300 rupies, okay?" basically, get me off the street- anywhere but here. He nodded, and I climbed in the rickshaw so happy to be off the street and just moving away from the bad situation and towards town. We passed the bus and I hid in the shadows of the rickshaw so the bus driver couldn't see my face. He must have seen me anyway, because he started the engine, flashed the lights, and started following us down the street in the giant bus like a mad man. I was praying my little lungs out, that God would keep me safe.
The auto drove fast, through little alley ways into this dirty part of town where he waited at this guesthouse for me to see if they had any rooms avalible. It was 10:30pm, and the hotel staff told me the manager was in his room already. When I wanted to bargain down the price, and see the room, he came rolling downstairs in a dirty white tank top and slammed open a room right next to the reception, slammed open the bathroom door and was being very rude and rough. I didn't have a good feeling about it before I stepped in the room, and when I went in, there were old cigarettes all over the floor, stains on the sheet-less bed, and big red spots on the wall like someone had been murdered there a couple of days ago. He wanted 1000rupees for it last price, and I looked at him like- "you're kidding right?" There is no way I would pay that much to sleep in a place this bad! Thankfully there was a nice man who was staying at the same guesthouse, who was wearing a green shirt and he offered to go with me in the auto to find a cheeper, clean place.
I don't know about cleaner, but it was definitely a cheeper room for 300rupees. I could litterally see the bed crawling with bed bugs, the walls were a black color, and when we walked up the stairs to see my room, the whole complex was surrounded in bars like a prision. There was water dripping from the ceiling, and shirtless men hanging over the outside isles watching me go into my room. It was now 11:30pm, and I was so tired. I just wanted a room with a lock on the door. I didn't care if it was clean or not, I was so tired. I checked in, my stomach growling from just having rice puffs and chai earlier that morning. There were 3 wonderful sweet women who were staying next door, and invited themselves in my room to talk with me. I felt better about staying there since the women were staying next door.
The hotel manager noticed I was hungry, and offered to walk with me to get some food. I usually wouldn't walk with a guy to get food this late, but his eyes were kind, and it would be safer than going out by myself. I told him I wanted to shower first. I slipped my passport under the mattress, and went to the bathroom which was a concrete room with a hole in the middle and a water pipe coming out of the wall. I couldn't see much from the yellow dim light, yet could tell the water coming out of the tap was gray. It felt good to be cool even though the water was probably sewer. *eough!
I washed best I could, then headed out walking in the night to a super nice veg restaurant with the hotel manager who ended paying for my meal, which cost more than my room! I thanked him, and his friend who drove us back to the jail (i mean hotel) and I went up stairs and went to sleep (after talking with the women who invited themselves back into my room for some chatter).
My plans of going up to the mountains filled my mind, and I tried to think on good thoughts, thankful God had provided a safe room for me to stay, and gave me strength to get out of the bus with that creepy guy. I slept thankfully for a couple hours after dancing with the bed bugs for awhile. My alarm went off at 6am. I rushed to get out of the hotel, showered in the murky water, ran to the bus station, got on a bus to Patonkot (a halfway point to get to the mountains) and once on the bus went to sleep. While I was dreaming, I had a dream I left my passport back at the hotel, and awoke suddenly to find out my dream was true.
Of all the things to loose! My passport is the most important thing! And in all the places to leave it, the dirty hotel in Jammu, India would be one of the worst. I dropped a couple f-bombs under my breath. Shit Jena! How could you be so careless!? I jumped off of the bus with my backpack full of clothes and gifts- feeling like I was lugging around a bag full of crap since my passport was missing. I told myself I needed to slow down, and ate some lunch, then got on a bus back to Jammu. The bus stopped a little ways down the road for a lunch break. I had to go to the bathroom, and meandered around to the side of the building where there were two toilets. I opened the door to one, which the hole in the ground was packed full of human waste it looked like a brow pie baking in the ground below. The stench was so strong, I closed the door and opened the door to the 2nd toilet. This one wasn't as bad as the first one, and I thankfully went wee, only to find moments later there was no water to wash my hand I had just used for wiping. "Shit!" I pulled up my pants with my clean hand, and opened the door. I stepped on this wooden plank looking for a water pump nearby. I spotted one a little ways away. Perfect! Water! I was so excited to wash my hand, that I didn't realize I was about to step in the overflowing sourer right below me. I took a step forward galavanting my whole leg up to my knee in black human waist. "Double shit!"
I stood there for a second, knee deep in poo and staring into the black abyss, shocked up to my eyeballs. I didn't know what to do next, but let out this loud mad laugh, thinking to myself- what else could go wrong?
5 hours later I was standing next to an ATM machine, mouth gaping like a cave man, watching my ATM card get shredded, hitting the cancel button endlessly like a robot malfunctioning, and a screaming, "no, no, no," over and over. Was I denying the fact that the last 72 hours had been a living trip from hell, or was I speaking to the ATM machine as if it could understand I didn't need him to shred my card and make my day even more shitty, adding one more thing to my list proving Murphy's law to be incoherently true.
Thankfully some nice men from Punjab helped me find a clean guesthouse which they paid over half the price of the room so I could afford to stay there. I just wanted to get naked, and call my mom. I wanted to take a shower in clean water, and wanted to eat clean food, and wanted to sleep in a clean bed, and not feel bugs crawling on me. Most of all I wanted to feel safe. After going back to Jammu earlier that day, I got my passport card, and stayed the night in this nice place to get my ATM card the next morning. I woke up refreshed and ready to tackle the day ahead.
The next morning I had curd, tea, and toast, and took a rickshaw to the bus stand to get a bus to Dalhousie in the mountains. It only took 3 hours from the city I was in, and was glad because I was sick of riding on busses. I arrived, and made a friend who walked with me and found me a place to stay, clean, inexpensive, and close to the center of town. I showered, went into the market place, and bought some spices and herbs to take back home.
I then went into a shop, met a nice lonely single man who bought me some tea, and then found my friend again which we went to a video arcade and played for free because his friend owned the shop. I called mom and talked with her for awhile, and felt so great afterwards. It was so good to hear her voice. However, after I hung up, I felt like the guy from A Beautiful Mind, always talking with these people, hearing about a place called America, and knowing I've seen them before- but it had been so long in Asia- I felt like I was going mad talking to myself at times. I paid the guy, and walked back to my room in the dark along the ridge of this mountain, glad to be back "home." I felt safe, and was looking forward to my bed.
I went back in time to watch the cook prepare dinner, and got out my notebook to make notes of how to cook the Indian food. I ordered dahl and rotis, it was so delicious! Everyone thought it was so funny how much I was enjoying the Indian food! I went to bed happy, and satisfied. More to come... :)
Some pictures corresponding to this post:
I got up bright and early at 5am, and walked down the wooden stairs to make chai for Mustaq and I. We sipped quietly- me- feeling very proud of myself to master at least one item in the Indian cuisine. I slipped on my backpack and we walked enjoying the morning. The sun was just coming up and a hazy mist had settled in the valley. The army camp next door was already up doing a drill.
We walked into town to the bus stand, and found out the 200rupie bus was leaving from the Yatra Camps below the city. We walked down the hill to see so many hindu pilgrims camped out in tents, hustling to get on the bus back to their home town after trekking for a month in the hills. It was busy and loud and I noticed all the people had bus tickets. Mustaq asked a nice tall man which bus was going to Jammu for 200rupies. I was so thankful he was there to speak in Urdu. I got on a bus with a family of 18 trekkers, and was welcomed by this nice man who assured me "if you have any trouble with anything, ask my family to help you." I felt blessed to be on such a great bus and took a seat next to this nice middle age woman. I said goodbye to Mustaq and he started trudging up the hill in his little redvest sweater.
5 minutes later the bus driver told me to get off the bus because I needed a ticket. A man came and sat in my place. I got off the bus, and for the next four hours I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to find a bus going to Jammu.
This nice man told me I had to go into the Yatra camps to get a ticket, and I asked someone else, and they told me to follow him. I walked with him far away from the busses, went through this turnstile security check which this female officer asked if I had clearance to go into the Yatra camps. I quickly motioned to my friend outside, and she let me go. Once inside the camp, I saw all these makeshift tents set up like a city. Chai tea stalls, hot paratas cooking, clothing stores, and people sleeping in tents all organized on a grid with roads and little dirt alley ways in which cows and chickens stalked.
One chai tea later, I found out I was in the wrong place, and walked back to the busses where I found a bus going to Jammu. I asked the bus driver how much it was, and he told me 300rupies. But I knew that all the locals were paying 200 and he was just being a jerk and charging me more because I was a foreigner.
I stuck my big lip out, and told him I wasn't paying anymore than 200rupies. I was impatient, tired, and it was now 8am which meant I was getting a late start. My friend tried to bargain down the price for around 5 minutes, until a nice punjabi man, tall with a black turban pulled out a hundred rupies from his wallet. I was taken back at his punctual kindness and my deliberate predigest attitude. I quickly thanked him and got in the bus- yet nature call took me out of the bus.
I asked around for a bathroom, but the only one was all the way in the Yatra camps, and I didn't have time to walk all the way back. The men pointed up the rocky slope on the mountain suggesting I make the best use of nature and quickly because the bus was leaving. I slowly turned my head towards the rocky treeless slope and held my arms wide and let out a long"thank you......!" as I howled sarcastically, muttering to myself.
Everyone thought this was so funny- me being the only white girl, having to run up this rocky slope to go pee. A ring of laughter started out with one man, then a group formed watching me scramble up the rocks, and they all started laughing hystarically. This however did not help the fact it felt like my bladder was about to explode, and the dilemma of finding something big enough that would cover my white ass.
I got to the top of the ledge where there was flat ground, and two men smoking weed. They pointed to a metal frame with cloth blowing in the wind (the outhouse) and I thanked them and ran over to do my business. The torn cloth didn't cover much, especially since the wind was blowing the cloth around. I squatted and tried to hold it taunt to give myself some privacy, yet could not ignore the cloth, hanging from the top of a 6 foot frame, was only 3 feet long and a foot wide- hardly enough to cover my bare butt. Somehow even though my face was the only thing hidden from the group of onlookers below, I felt like I had a little privacy. I couldn't see them, even though their laughter roared even louder when they saw me trying to hide behind the 3 feet cloth. I came down from the mountain top red-faced, and ready to go.
I was really stressed now because it was really late and the bus was taking forever to leave! I had a seat behind the drivers seat, and he constantly was turning around to talk to me. I drew a little in my notebook, took a nap, and journaled trying to avoid from talking with him. At one point when I was sleeping I felt him touching my leg, and I immediately sat up and told him to stop touching my leg. He didn't touch me the rest of the bus trip. The trip was supposed to take 7 hours, but it ended up taking 15 hours! I was getting really impatient, and we stopped for an hour in this little town, which was a huge waste of time.
I got out, went to a bathroom (a real one) and washed my face. My face was so dry from driving in the bus next to the window, the skin on my forehead was cracked in blood was running down my face. I looked like I had just been in a war. I got a chai tea from this cute little kid with dimples. There were these two boys dressed as Baba G's who came up and also drank chai. I talked with them for awhile, then was distracted by the starving mule limping towards the trashcan for his afternoon meal, wincing with a swollen fetlock hard as a rock, and hips bleeding covered in swollen scabs. Can you say animal abuse?! I was so mad. I went over to pet the poor creature, only to see random parts of his body looked like they had been put through a cheese grater. I couldn't look at him chewing on newspaper, and licking the dead dog below any longer. I walked away and asked the bus driver to hit the road or I would find my own ride to Jammu. He said we would stay 10 minutes longer. I got on the bus and tapped my foot impatiently. We should have already been there by now, and the sun was going down.
We drove on after a bunch more people came on the bus, including a police officer with a huge machine gun. I was getting hungry, and hadn't eaten anything all day, so I pulled out some puffed rice from my bag Mustaq had given me the night before. I offered some to the officer and he declined roughly stating "he doesn't need food, it's a sign of weakness." I nodded, already feeling weak and pissed off, and solemnly ate my rice puffs as we drove more down the road. We slowed down to pass a police check point, where there was a huge ring of people that circled around the bus, and a man started spitting on the police officer inside the bus. The officer got out of the bus, and hit the man to the ground and pointed his gun at the man to shoot him. It all happened so fast I didn't have time to process it. The officer just threatened the man yelling at him with the gun pointed at him, yet didn't shoot. He got back in the bus, and we drove off quickly.
It was now dark. We kept driving for a couple more hours. There were these nice dressed Indian guys who had the seat behind me, and one of them was born in Thailand. We had fun together speaking a mix of Thai, English, and Hindi. We took some pictures, but I wasn't really in the mood to party. I was really mad the bus driver was being so lazy. He dropped everyone off at the Jammu railway stand an hour later which meant I was the only person in the bus. My mind started ticking. I felt like I was preparing myself for something bad to happen.
The bus driver pulled over and stopped in the city at this bar to buy a couple of beers, yet put them under his seat and continued to drive. I asked where we were going, and he said the bus stand. I heaved loudly and pouted, wanting to get out of this bloody bus. We drove slowly on this dark lonely road. Just a creaky old metal bus, a creepy Indian driver, and little me on the streets of Jammu. I felt the hairs on my back stand up, like some torrential lightning strike was going to hit me from behind. The bus driver slowed down, and parked on the lonely dark street. He quietly pulled out the beers and started opening one. "What about you and me share a room," he said shooting me a glance and grinning, his gold tooth shining in the moonlight. "It's too expensive, and besides I'm married and don't sleep with other men," I said, trying to debate if it would be safer to stay in the bus or to get out and walk on the street.
"I'll let you sleep in the bus for free," he said as he pulled up another beer, supposedly for me. "Here, have a beer and-"
"How far to the bus stand?" I demanded, cutting him off. "What? Oh- only 5kilometers from here." He said, and put his bottle opener down. He was actually going to stop and drink and then drive again, and who knows if we would even go to the bus stand at all! I was so pissed that he was drinking, that the ride had taken 15 hours, and that I was now alone on a dark street, in the middle of Jammu, the most dangerous city for an American to be in right now. He continued to fiddle with the beer. I really didn't want to have to get up and leave, and heaved a huge breath of air out, stressed, frazzled, and plain mad. I grabbed my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, stood up and walked to the door to open it. I pulled on the black handle and it was locked. I pulled again, harder this time yet it didn't budge.
"Open this door!" I said forcefully. He motioned for me to come over and join him for a beer. "Open the door!" I said louder this time. I repeated this 3 times shouting, trying to not let my voice crack, and on the 3 time was ready to kick out the window, cry for help, or kill the driver to open the door myself. I wasn't about to get raped in the back of an Indian bus in the middle of nowhere. Even in the night, he could see I was serious, and finally opened the door, demanding I pay him 100rupies for no reason.
My feet hit the pavement hard, and I stormed out of the bus, and began walking in the opposite direction the bus was facing. There was a homeless Baba laying naked on the sidewalk with nothing but a piece of cloth around him. He smiled at me as I walked past him, face illuminated by the glow of his cigarette, and dreads hanging long around his shoulders. I gave him the look, and a husky "hey," and continued walking.
In the distance I saw a circular light, and the put-put from the engine of a rickshaw coming down the road. I stuck out my arm to flag it down, and told the driver "cheep room under 300 rupies, okay?" basically, get me off the street- anywhere but here. He nodded, and I climbed in the rickshaw so happy to be off the street and just moving away from the bad situation and towards town. We passed the bus and I hid in the shadows of the rickshaw so the bus driver couldn't see my face. He must have seen me anyway, because he started the engine, flashed the lights, and started following us down the street in the giant bus like a mad man. I was praying my little lungs out, that God would keep me safe.
The auto drove fast, through little alley ways into this dirty part of town where he waited at this guesthouse for me to see if they had any rooms avalible. It was 10:30pm, and the hotel staff told me the manager was in his room already. When I wanted to bargain down the price, and see the room, he came rolling downstairs in a dirty white tank top and slammed open a room right next to the reception, slammed open the bathroom door and was being very rude and rough. I didn't have a good feeling about it before I stepped in the room, and when I went in, there were old cigarettes all over the floor, stains on the sheet-less bed, and big red spots on the wall like someone had been murdered there a couple of days ago. He wanted 1000rupees for it last price, and I looked at him like- "you're kidding right?" There is no way I would pay that much to sleep in a place this bad! Thankfully there was a nice man who was staying at the same guesthouse, who was wearing a green shirt and he offered to go with me in the auto to find a cheeper, clean place.
I don't know about cleaner, but it was definitely a cheeper room for 300rupees. I could litterally see the bed crawling with bed bugs, the walls were a black color, and when we walked up the stairs to see my room, the whole complex was surrounded in bars like a prision. There was water dripping from the ceiling, and shirtless men hanging over the outside isles watching me go into my room. It was now 11:30pm, and I was so tired. I just wanted a room with a lock on the door. I didn't care if it was clean or not, I was so tired. I checked in, my stomach growling from just having rice puffs and chai earlier that morning. There were 3 wonderful sweet women who were staying next door, and invited themselves in my room to talk with me. I felt better about staying there since the women were staying next door.
The hotel manager noticed I was hungry, and offered to walk with me to get some food. I usually wouldn't walk with a guy to get food this late, but his eyes were kind, and it would be safer than going out by myself. I told him I wanted to shower first. I slipped my passport under the mattress, and went to the bathroom which was a concrete room with a hole in the middle and a water pipe coming out of the wall. I couldn't see much from the yellow dim light, yet could tell the water coming out of the tap was gray. It felt good to be cool even though the water was probably sewer. *eough!
I washed best I could, then headed out walking in the night to a super nice veg restaurant with the hotel manager who ended paying for my meal, which cost more than my room! I thanked him, and his friend who drove us back to the jail (i mean hotel) and I went up stairs and went to sleep (after talking with the women who invited themselves back into my room for some chatter).
My plans of going up to the mountains filled my mind, and I tried to think on good thoughts, thankful God had provided a safe room for me to stay, and gave me strength to get out of the bus with that creepy guy. I slept thankfully for a couple hours after dancing with the bed bugs for awhile. My alarm went off at 6am. I rushed to get out of the hotel, showered in the murky water, ran to the bus station, got on a bus to Patonkot (a halfway point to get to the mountains) and once on the bus went to sleep. While I was dreaming, I had a dream I left my passport back at the hotel, and awoke suddenly to find out my dream was true.
Of all the things to loose! My passport is the most important thing! And in all the places to leave it, the dirty hotel in Jammu, India would be one of the worst. I dropped a couple f-bombs under my breath. Shit Jena! How could you be so careless!? I jumped off of the bus with my backpack full of clothes and gifts- feeling like I was lugging around a bag full of crap since my passport was missing. I told myself I needed to slow down, and ate some lunch, then got on a bus back to Jammu. The bus stopped a little ways down the road for a lunch break. I had to go to the bathroom, and meandered around to the side of the building where there were two toilets. I opened the door to one, which the hole in the ground was packed full of human waste it looked like a brow pie baking in the ground below. The stench was so strong, I closed the door and opened the door to the 2nd toilet. This one wasn't as bad as the first one, and I thankfully went wee, only to find moments later there was no water to wash my hand I had just used for wiping. "Shit!" I pulled up my pants with my clean hand, and opened the door. I stepped on this wooden plank looking for a water pump nearby. I spotted one a little ways away. Perfect! Water! I was so excited to wash my hand, that I didn't realize I was about to step in the overflowing sourer right below me. I took a step forward galavanting my whole leg up to my knee in black human waist. "Double shit!"
I stood there for a second, knee deep in poo and staring into the black abyss, shocked up to my eyeballs. I didn't know what to do next, but let out this loud mad laugh, thinking to myself- what else could go wrong?
5 hours later I was standing next to an ATM machine, mouth gaping like a cave man, watching my ATM card get shredded, hitting the cancel button endlessly like a robot malfunctioning, and a screaming, "no, no, no," over and over. Was I denying the fact that the last 72 hours had been a living trip from hell, or was I speaking to the ATM machine as if it could understand I didn't need him to shred my card and make my day even more shitty, adding one more thing to my list proving Murphy's law to be incoherently true.
Thankfully some nice men from Punjab helped me find a clean guesthouse which they paid over half the price of the room so I could afford to stay there. I just wanted to get naked, and call my mom. I wanted to take a shower in clean water, and wanted to eat clean food, and wanted to sleep in a clean bed, and not feel bugs crawling on me. Most of all I wanted to feel safe. After going back to Jammu earlier that day, I got my passport card, and stayed the night in this nice place to get my ATM card the next morning. I woke up refreshed and ready to tackle the day ahead.
The next morning I had curd, tea, and toast, and took a rickshaw to the bus stand to get a bus to Dalhousie in the mountains. It only took 3 hours from the city I was in, and was glad because I was sick of riding on busses. I arrived, and made a friend who walked with me and found me a place to stay, clean, inexpensive, and close to the center of town. I showered, went into the market place, and bought some spices and herbs to take back home.
I then went into a shop, met a nice lonely single man who bought me some tea, and then found my friend again which we went to a video arcade and played for free because his friend owned the shop. I called mom and talked with her for awhile, and felt so great afterwards. It was so good to hear her voice. However, after I hung up, I felt like the guy from A Beautiful Mind, always talking with these people, hearing about a place called America, and knowing I've seen them before- but it had been so long in Asia- I felt like I was going mad talking to myself at times. I paid the guy, and walked back to my room in the dark along the ridge of this mountain, glad to be back "home." I felt safe, and was looking forward to my bed.
I went back in time to watch the cook prepare dinner, and got out my notebook to make notes of how to cook the Indian food. I ordered dahl and rotis, it was so delicious! Everyone thought it was so funny how much I was enjoying the Indian food! I went to bed happy, and satisfied. More to come... :)
Some pictures corresponding to this post:
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| Early morning in Palghum waiting for the buses to start running. |
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| A really nice stop with some awesome art found in the most unusual places. |
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| The nicest Kashmiri men trying to sell me a scarf- until they realized I wasn't interested, and resorted to a picture instead. :) |
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| The room I stayed at in Jammu. Can you say gross? |
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| On the bus to Palghum, passport in hand, and sitting next to a stowaway who didn't have a ticket. On the way she through a glass bottle out the window where an unsuspecting cyclist was peddling below....opps! |
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