Hill Living

An article I wrote back when Chitrak and I visited Shimla in October 2012.

The town of Shimla is breathtaking and one first falls in love with the picturesque backdrops and the quaint, laid back lifestyle of hill living, a difficult retreat to find in the chaotic larger cities of India that never sleep.  After a few days of leisure, you notice aberrant fixtures on the doors and windows.  Bars cast shadows over the glass like a prison. On a second glance, you begin to notice an odd consistency of spiky branches that have only fallen on the tops of vehicles.

However, all trimmings are intentional attempts to ward off monkey malice.  The slimy thieves break into your house with ease, take your food, steal your clothes, and leave your house in utter disarray.  Don't worry, if you are a woman and try to shoo the monkey away, he's not that scared of you.  The little devil will smugly continue on ravaging your home.  (For some reason, monkeys are only scared of men.  Ladies, don't go out alone!)  The thorny  branches put on the car by their owners are a frail defense to all monkey business, from monthly monkey meetings to sweet monkey love making.  Chitrak once told me a story of a friend that had just bought a new car, and while they were away one day, the dome was beaten in to look like it had suffered an unrelenting hail storm.  (Should have invested in the handy-dandy thorny branch!)

Our days were full of treks up and down steep slops, through crowded markets of colorful knick knacks and sweets.  I wish it were only the monkeys I was frightened of.  The larger, and wiser langur are just down-right terrifying.  But, let's save that for another day!

Don't Monkey Around

And I'm not talking about the three monkeys sitting on the bench behind me ;-)

 I will be going to India this Fall and I am incredibly excited - a chance to visit with family and experience more of India.  I hope to come back with more of my fun tales.  Here is one I wrote on our trip back in October 2012 when we visited Shimla.  Enjoy!

At the zoo, you sit behind a glass fence and think to yourself, “Hey, look at those cute little monkeys!”  On the contrary, my dear friend.  In fact, they are not so cute at all.  All confidence dwindles when, from atop the trees, a loud chatter and violent shaking from the branches demands your attention.  Your pace quickens, eyes scanning the view above. Clutching on to all your precious belongings, a sudden and growing concern of a possible monkey-attack creeps into your mind.  It doesn't help that your brother-in-law points out a limping older woman staggering in the distance, commenting nonchalantly, "Oh, she was attacked by monkeys just a few weeks back.  She had to go to the hospital afterwards."

Oh, brother!!

I find myself trying make peace with the little rascals if we meet along the roadside, as I nervously whisper, “Good monkeeeeey, nice monkeeeey!”  They are not so darling face-to-face.  With the rude, cockiness of a teenager, they don't even blink twice walking up next to you, eating your food, and even inviting themselves into your home without invitation.  On one occasion, I witnessed a man enjoying his dessert on a bench outside a sweet shop.  A monkey came up behind him, plucked the cake off his plate, and walked leisurely down the street, shamelessly munching away. 

10-4!

Can you spot the monkey?

This is a langoor...  a really BIG monkey!
And that woman in the picture?  That's my mother-in-law!  :-)

To other good reads on my Shimla trip, please see my story called Honey-Man and Him-AHHHHHHHHHH-layas!

Honey-Man

Hanuman, Kunal, & Chitrak

Going to India is always a treat.  Last year, Chitrak and I were able to stay in the Himilayas with his family for a little over a week.  I hope you enjoy reading about the experiences I had there (October 2012):

Okay, he’s not called “Honey-man” or “Monkey God,” but these are the only two names I can remember.

His name is really Hanuman (Han/oo/man), and he is a large monkey sculpture that sits on top of Shimla’s highest mountain peak, watching over the town day and night.  He is a mythical creature from ancient Hindu texts, and is known for his utmost loyalty to his king. 

On Thursday morning, my incredibly fit brother-in-law Kunal decided to take us hiking to see the Honey-Man, err.. I mean Hanuman.  There is no handicap accessible path; the only way is up - so we followed the steep, zigzagged road.  Truly, it was more like climbing a wall that had been slightly angled.  In one step forward, you find that your knee had met your chest.

Along the way, government signs motivated the fitness-minded.  They recommended time limits for the super healthy and the extremely unfit.  We began our climb with a burst of motivation.  After 15 minutes, we had reached a midway point, and rested while Kunal went into a local store and rented three walking sticks.  How thoughtful he was to let us rest AND get walking sticks for our weak and weary bones! 

It took me another few minutes grunting up the hill to figure out they weren't walking sticks at all; they were monkey deterrents!  Throughout our trek, monkeys curiously approached us staring with their little brown, bold eyes as they chomped away at vegetation.  It was hard to predict what they might do.

Monkeys are intimidating and very comfortable around humans.  Kunal had told us earlier, before the climb, not to bring anything with us (like cameras, food, and shades) because the monkeys would steal it and the only way to get it back would be to bribe them with food… if you were lucky.  I had mistakenly forgotten this, and brought along my purse.  I didn't have any food to barter, and knew if the moment arose, I would be ready to whack a monkey.  My hand tightened around the stick, and I firmly hugged my purse as we made our way up another incredible slope (with Kunal not even breaking a sweat.)

As we approached the entrance of the Hanuman Temple, I saw them, a large group of monkeys - babies, papas, and mamas - all sitting near the gate.  For a moment I thought I might be in a scene from Indiana Jones. It was childish, but the thought was still there.

Chitrak helping the baby monkeys get water.  The older ones knew how to do it already.

Inside we walked around and got an amazing view of the entire town. While there, we noticed a few men being harassed by the monkeys (but it was because they didn't have their handy-dandy monkey sticks or the awesome brother-in-law to rent them).  It was then that I noticed Chitrak’s had been in battle before – a crack was visible running down the middle of the stick.  The store owner we were renting it from had tapped it up.  Good as new, I guess.

It was a fun day, but boy the climb down was sooooooooooo much worse then the climb up!

I loved the view from the top.

Our clever little friends.

We made it to the top!

Him-AHHHHHHHHHH-layas

A view of the Shimla in the evening.

Going to India is always a treat.  Last year, Chitrak and I were able to stay in the Himilayas with his family for a little over a week.  I hope you enjoy reading about the experiences I had there (October 2012):

Nervous thoughts danced in my head as I anxiously gazed out the window at the curvy slopes of nearby mountain tops.  We had just left my in-laws house in Ambala hours ago and were headed to the foothills of the Himalayas to meet up with Chitrak’s sister and her family.  I looked at the clock again, and in my head calculated for the umpteenth time when we would reach.

I wasn't terrified about what to say to my sister-in-law, or how I would run up to my niece and give her a big kiss hello - I was more concerned about how we would make it there alive.  If you've ever driven in India, you would agree that the driving can make even the most stubborn atheist a religious man, and that’s on flat ground.  Imagine now you are racing up the slopes of one of the tallest mountains chains in the world.

Yep…

Not that I kept count, but there were at least 10 times we should have died.  Here are the top 5 of my near death experiences:

On our way up the Himalayas.

Near Death Incident #1:  Death By Speed Sickness
I remember there was nothing better than the Tilt-A-Whirl at Indiana Beach – constantly shifting you back and forth, giving you a sickening feeling that would creep up into your tummy, but let’s admit, that ride is only 30 seconds long and many of you would agree that that’s 30 seconds longer than it should be!  Driving in the Himalayas was a 4 hour Tilt-A-Whirl ride in its most raw form, as seat belts are rarely used.  I could almost time the approaching of each curve (I would say 5 second intervals) as my body repulsed the sway to the right, then left, and sometimes an immediate brake would send you forward up next to the driver.  I found that there was no way to avoid it; shutting your eyes only made the sickness worse.  I watched and cringed as curve after curve was taken at 50 miles/hour with the use of only a little brake.

As I looked out to the vehicles that passed, I noticed that some of the buses had a brownish-orange paint spewed out from the open window, which could only mean one thing – the driver didn't pull over for pukers! 

At least I wouldn't be the only one…

Sheena and Spooky sitting excited at our feet.

Near Death Incident #2:  Death By Dogs
The whole family isn't complete without its pets, and so before locking up my in-laws place in Ambala, we seated both the family dogs into the back seat of the car.  We had hired a driver to take us to Shimla, and although he had arrived a few minutes late, he impressed us with his brand new SUV; his seats were still wrapped in plastic…

I couldn't tell if he was irritated, maybe he had been warned, but it was obvious he considerably disliked the dogs touching him while he drove.  Who would?  Their cold noses and their adorable licks to the ear were very distracting.  I held on to Sheena (the eldest dog) who was quite eager to sniff out the air coming through the driver’s window.  She’s quite strong and very obstinate, with a slight case of arthritis and the need to sit in my lap.  Wobbling with excitement, paws digging into my thighs, I held on to her but at times I wasn't very successful.  It was then that the driver would divert his attention to the dog, placing his hand in front of Sheena’s face.  As we climbed higher in altitude, the cliffs began to get steeper, and I was certain instant death faced us if Sheena’s nose were to accidentally brush against the driver’s neck while rounding a corner on a cliff.  I kept my hands firmly around the dog and held my breath.

It was then that my father-in-law asked me to roll down the window.  An excited Sheena got her chance to flap those beautiful long ears in the wind and do what all dogs do, at least until we rounded our first 90 degree turn with the window open.  I felt the weight of Chitrak and his mom press up against me.  All our body weight swung out towards the cliff, with the dog in my slipping grip…  Good Lord have mercy.  That window rolled itself back up.

Busy Traffic

Near Death Incident #3:  Death By Driving “Indian Style”
If speeding around the L-shaped corners wasn't enough, imagine using the road rules of India.  They drive on the left-hand side and pass on the right.  Indian drivers aren't bashful or patient.  They lay on their horn, which is an indicator they have right away, and will pass no matter the visibility of oncoming traffic.  It is moments during these blind spots that you begin to realize you can construct the most beautiful prayer, and promise things you’d never promise, only to make it around the curve. 

Broken railing alongside the road.

Near Death Incident #4:  Death By Rolling off Cliffs
After counting 3 damaged road railings, I decided to purposely lose count.  It was a little hair-raising to know that many people had closer experiences to death than we had already, and then I saw it: one of the semis (the size of a grain truck) had taken a corner too fast and tipped over.  He must have been a man of god, because he was spared only a foot from the edge – miraculously saved from a tumble down the 20 kilometer hill.

Knowing people were having nearer death experiences than us, or even death experiences, is almost-death to me.

It does happen, but not as frequently as you might think.  This was the only one we spotted.

Near Death Incident #5:  Death By Wildlife
Let’s not forget those cute little monkeys you see on the side of the road.  They are like the deer of Indiana – EVERYWHERE!  They don’t typically get in the road, and for residents, they are accustomed to the wildlife, but every once in a while, you’ll see a cow in the middle of the street.  BRAKE!