Puttalam to Anuradhapura (North Central Province, Sri Lanka)

For a revised version of this post, go here.

Aug 19^th 2009 - What a difference two days makes. This day was excellent for five reasons: I am in Sri Lanka. I have a motorcycle. I made a wrong turn. I saw monkeys. I have a motorcycle. Left Puttalam this morning and headed to the ancient city of Anuradhapura. Never underestimate my ability to become disoriented. The roads are well marked but somehow I missed a turn.

It was a great unintentional move. Traffic was light, the backdrop scenic, and the weather pleasant. Much of the road I was on is covered by overreaching tree branches forming a natural tunnel. I passed open marshland, Buddhist holy sites, slow moving serpentine rivers crossed by ramshackle bridges, roadside fruit vendors, and a surplus of smiling faces. The road was a bit uneven but this only enhanced the effect. Having dirt bike suspension was a bonus. I did pass more than a few police checkpoints but was ushered through with a smile and a wave every time.

While driving along I happened to notice a rather large statue of Buddha situated near a rock face and was compelled to investigate. The area near the statute is the site of a small monastery. I wish I knew more about the significance of what I saw but I must confess my ignorance. 

As no one appeared to speak English I was forced to remain in the dark. The modest complex has the rock formation on the right decorated with a 40 ft (guestimate) Buddha and other smaller red monk-like figures at different points along the rocks. There are also different areas for worship and habitation strewn about the grounds. While I was attempting to capture a troop of local primates on film there were some worshipers chanting in unison to the lead of a small boy (monk in training I presume). It is the same boy you see in the picture below that was busy with a lesson when I arrived. There was a serenity and warmth to the place that I found most endearing.

Anuradhapura (North Central Province, Sri Lanka)

For a revised version of this post, go here.
Aug 19^th, 2009 - Today I explored the ancient city of Anuradhapura. It became the capital of Sri Lanka in 380 BC under the rule of King Pandukabhaya but reached its height under Devanampyia Tissa (247-207 BC). It was to serve as the capital of Sri Lanka for over 1000 years. I began at the Ruvanvelisaya Dagoba. What the hell is a dagoba? A dagoba is a dome-shaped memorial alleged to contain relics of Buddha or a Buddhist saint; also referred to as a stupa or chaitya. This one was built by Devanampyia and was his crowning achievement. It is an impressive sight and extremely sacred to Buddhist followers. People come to make offerings, pray, meditate, and the like. In fact most of the people there were pilgrims and worshipers, not tourists per se.

I then moved on to the Sacred Bodhi Tree. This tree acts as the heart of the city both physically and spiritually. It is said to be the oldest historically authenticated tree in the world and has been cared for and guarded for over 2000 years. Wowie.

Much of the sacred city is nestled in a light forest that simply emanates serenity. As you make your way through a sense of calm and well being slowly overtakes you. It is all you can do not to curl up on a patch of grass near a ruin or under tree and drift off to sleep. Oh what a sight this must have been in its heyday. I made stops at Elephant Pond, the Moonstone, Samadhi Buddha (statue), Twin Ponds, and a host of other sites that formed part of the thriving ancient city. Wowie.

I ended my tour at the massive brick Jetavanarama Dagoba built in the third century. It originally stood at a 100m but now reaches only 70m. The area around this dagoba contains the ruins of a monastery and, like other parts of the city, is situated in a beautiful area of green patchwork interspersed between trees and the remains of ancient structures.

Sigiriya & Dambulla (Matale District, Sri Lanka)

For a revised version of this post, go here.

Aug 24^th, 2009 - Today I drove to Sigiriya, a large rock (hardened magma from an extinct volcano) with the ruins of an ancient palace (or is it a monastery?) situated atop its flat surface. The walk to the rock takes you across a moat and a series of ancient gardens. At the base you must begin a semi-arduous climb up a series of metal staircases. The path leads through a small cave containing some well preserved ancient fresco paintings.

Before making the final ascent to the top you pass the remnants of what once was a gigantic stone lion carved into the side of the rock. The stairs lead directly through Simba's mouth. Today, however, only the paws remain.
The 1.6 hectares at the summit once contained a series of buildings, of which only the foundations remain today. Although touted by the locals (and Wikipedia for that matter) as an ancient palace/fortress recent scholarship points in the direction of a monastery, not a royal residence. When you visit everything is labeled as the former, crediting the 'palace' construction to King Kassapa back in the 5th century AD. Nothing like an archeological hissy spat to get the juices flowing. I’d be lying if I said the uncertainty has not kept me up nights.

Interesting enough there are a few colonies of wasps that have taken residence on the side of the rock fairly close to the staircase. Apparently this can be a real problem at times and has even been cause for prohibiting people from climbing. It seems a couple of weeks ago a large group of Chinese tourists were victims of the wasps’ wrath and many went to the hospital as a result. That’ll ruin your vacation. Is it depraved to think that from a distance it was probably funny to witness? Yes, I suppose it is.

Swayambhunath 'Monkey Temple' (Kathmandu, Nepal)

Nov 2^nd, 2009 – Yesterday, I went for another stroll, this time to the Buddhist temple of Swayambhunath atop a hill west of Kathmandu. This particular temple is better known as ‘Monkey Temple’ in honor of the rambunctious primates that inhabit the temple complex. My fascination with urban primates is on the decline as most of the ones subjected to city life inevitably turn into assholes. I’ve also discovered that monkeys can carry a form of herpes which can be transmitted through saliva. Herpes from a monkey? There is just nothing good about that. 

My stroll actually began as a rickshaw ride, or should I say drive? Yep, I convinced the operator to let me take the reins. It was not pretty. Had it been designed for a Nepali mutant (i.e. an individual over six feet) I am sure it would have been delightful. As it was my knees were either at my elbows or in my armpits. It also had a bit of a pulling problem as I quickly discovered. One rotation sent me into the curb. As I failed to fully appreciate the width of the passenger area I came close to knocking over a parked motorcycle. I wonder what the Nepali word for ‘douchebag’ is?

The Kingdom of Lo (Mustang, Nepal) Part I

Nov 16^th, 2009 -  Wow. I hardly know where to begin. The past two weeks have been supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!! Yeah, that about sums it up. Mustang, the former Kingdom of Lo, was worth every penny I spent even if I overpaid (which I'm pretty sure I did). As usual I began in a state of confusion as to exactly what the hell was happening. I thought I would take the bus to Pokhara and then hop a flight the same day. I’m ignorant. The bus ride was six hours by itself which meant I would be spending a night in Pokhara and then catching an early flight the next morning. Sometimes, I stupid.

My guide picked me up at my hotel and we walked to the bus station in Kathmandu. His name is Ram and he is old enough to be my father (53 years of age to be exact). And he smokes. I realize he is Nepalese and has been doing this for 33 years but I was still a teensy concerned. And his English? Not so stellar. Yippee.

On the bus to Pokhara was the German couple (herein referred to as Hansel and Gretel or Hans and Grets for short) that was apparently not so thrilled to find out that I was supposed to be accompanying them on their trek. I was told they scoffed at the idea and so, consequently, was provided my very own guide. However, we would all be on the same bus to Pokhara, the same plane to Jomsom, and sleep in all the same tea houses along the way. Separate but equal. Who likes awkward? Thankfully, it was not so bad and in the end they even warmed up to me. Imagine that.

Blue of the Deepest Hue (Upper Mustang, Nepal) Part II

Nov 17^th, 2009 - One thing you will notice in Nepal is that men, woman, and children will hack, spit, and expel congestants from their bodies with reckless abandon and the utmost alacrity. It sometimes sounds as if an individual has a personal vendetta against their respiratory track. And when you take into account the arid, dusty conditions of the Mustang area the phenomenon only intensifies. In a word: lovely.

In addition to Hans and Grets there is also a group of mature French tourists following the same track and they were every bit as friendly as my two German counterparts. The second tea house stop saw me eating at a table surrounded by folks while being completely ignored. I suppose struggling in English was probably more trouble than it was worth. Not really such a big deal as bedtime came shortly after the setting sun. Turning in at 8 pm would have been a late night for me.

Notwithstanding an almost complete lack of companionship (Ram was friendly enough but did not have a whole lot to say and I was normally 20-30 minutes ahead of him along the trail) the trekking was incredible. I was often ahead of both groups and generally alone except for the few locals that I passed along the trail. I am fairly certain I have never witnessed skies as blue as the ones I saw day after day during this journey. It was remarkable and left me questioning the very definition of the phrase ‘deep blue’. It does not get deeper than that. When the sky is basically the same shade of blue with or without a pair of polarized sunglasses you know you are in the Himalayas.

Lo Manthang (Upper Mustang, Nepal) Part III

Nov 19^th, 2009 – Do I get lonely on the road? Does a tiger shit in the jungle? Who among us does not suffer from the affliction from time to time? It is an inescapable characteristic of the human condition and, I believe, a necessary one. People sometimes need to be alone even if doing so allows loneliness a foot in the door. You need to let it in, to savor it. It makes us human, forces us to contemplate the essence of our humanity. Without it what would we have? An existential gang bang is what. But how much should we embrace?

Too little and experiences become trite, hackneyed, jaded even. Too much we become isolated, cut off from a certain type of happiness and fulfillment that only a social existence can foster. Both extremes inevitably have a numbing effect, an insidious brand of torment that is exceedingly difficult to overcome.

I must admit that a companion here and there would offset the constant pressure (for lack of a better word) that arises from always having to organize everything alone. But beyond that practical consideration some experiences are just too amazing not to be shared. Many times during my passage through Upper Mustang I was grateful for the time spent in quiet contemplation along the trail. It was extremely rewarding. However, having someone else to share the experience with, to validate the surrounding beauty and magnificence, to somehow consecrate all my internal musings and jubilations about the nature of the incomprehensible, would have been remarkable. Better or worse? I don't know.

Travelers are indeed everywhere, more so than at any other point in history I reckon (especially in Kathmandu), but for some reason people seem to be a bit more closed off than I remember from earlier travels. This has been the case from the beginning of this excursion starting in Indonesia.

Perhaps, it has always been this way and I have just failed to notice it in the past. It is quite possible that the problem falls entirely my lap, for admittedly, I do not go out of my way to engage. However, I am a bit of a doppelganger when it comes to the outward emotional manifestations of others. If someone is friendly and outgoing I tend to reflect that and, likewise, if they are cold and introverted I tend to respond in kind.

Om Mani Padme Hum (Mustang, Nepal) The Finale

Nov 21^st, 2009 - In Chapter V of the “Kama Sutra”, On the Kinds of Woman Resorted to by the Citizen there is a list of woman not fit to ‘enjoyed’ (their term, not mine). The list includes:

-A leper

-A lunatic

-A woman turned out of caste

-A woman who reveals secrets

-A woman who publicly expresses a desire for sexual intercourse

-A woman who is extremely white

-A woman who is extremely black

-A bad-smelling woman

-A woman who is a near relative

-A woman who is a female friend

-A woman who leads the life of an ascetic

-And, lastly, the wife of a relative, of a friend, of a learned Braham, and of the king

Do we really need to be cautioned against sleeping with lepers, and stinky woman? Pretty sure those take care of themselves. And I’m going to need a more specific definition of ‘lunatic’ (the book sheds no light upon this). Again, I cannot make this stuff up.