by GAURAV PUNJ
Note: All’s not great about Sikkimese tourism though. Alcohol consumption is extremely high and almost everyone is drunk by sunset. Make sure you have a word with your trek staff about this beforehand. You don’t want a knife fight between them while on the trek, high on the ridges (a story I will tell some other time).
The cast
Kinzong, the coordinator from KCC, Sangey and Gurung, our guides, the rest of the trek staff, homestay hosts including Nima, and our group of twelve.
The act: The trek cake and Nimo ke momo
(Trips are not over with the completion of a trek, and this is the post-trek story of our Yuksom-Dzongri trek.)
‘Nothing scares me as much as these damn leeches,’ declared Arjun, the six-foot, broad-built Sardar, as soon as he crossed the hypothetical finish line of the trek and plonked himself down on a chair. Our hands held high for a celebratory high-five quickly came down as he removed his shoes and socks and rolled up his tracks to hunt for leeches. It was November, way past their time, but the continuous rainfall which had shortened our trek by a day had also woken some of them from their slumber. One or two were found happily sucking on the legs of a couple of our trekkers. To compound the fear, Ajit told us, in graphic detail, the story of his IIT friend who had gone to answer nature’s call one night on a trek, and got a leech stuck inside his, err, backside. More than a tactical retreat from the previous night’s camp at Tsokha, it was mortal fear that got most of the group scampering back to Yuksom.
As those of us who had reached earlier waited for the remaining trekkers, I had to quickly work out what to do with the extra day in hand. We had liked Yuksom as a village while on our way up to the Dzongri trek, but hadn’t got a chance to explore it. Well, now we had two full days to do so. I got in touch with my contacts in KCC, the local committee that organizes homestays and treks in Yuksom. We would obviously prefer homestays instead of a ‘hotel’, and luckily this was possible, so Kinzong went about coordinating with the host families.
I joined the group as they were sipping their nth cup of tea, this time with pakoras. ‘But will we all stay together in one home?’ asked Kavita. ‘No, each home will host two or three of us. There is a separate bedroom for guests, and it will be nice and clean. Plus we all will eat with our host families, and it’ll be traditional food that they cook.’ Some found this concept exciting, some were apprehensive, as is the norm. Everyone loves it later, so I wasn’t too concerned.
Our guide Sangey came over and told us that the trekking team was preparing a cake and they would also do a small song-dance routine later. So we were to eat at our individual homestays and then assemble at the hotel for the cake and the dance. Four days of trekking gets you in a zone where a cake is the biggest delicacy one can imagine, and already some of us were dreaming about the feeling of chocolate melting in our mouths.
By this time everyone had arrived except Nita and Ajit. The news was that Nita was having a tough time walking, and Ajit, the loyal husband, was keeping her company. Nita had made the cardinal mistake of buying new shoes just before the trek and now they were giving her trouble. But it was the last day of the trek, and even the worst injuries and troubles can’t stop people from finishing their walk to reach a place where they can take a hot bath. It comes down to bare necessities you see, the beauty of trekking.
And eventually she did turn up, hobbling, trailed by Ajit who had a torch in his hand, more to safeguard himself from leeches than to help her, we figured. We all gave her the customary welcome reserved for the last person to finish and after some group photos, we accompanied our respective host families – who had been waiting patiently with us for the last hour or so.
Rujuta, Vyjayanthi and I shared a homestay. It was a large house, as were most of the homes in Yuksom. Our previous homestay experience has been in Ladakh and Spiti, where we stayed in well-organized but basic homes in remote villages. Compared to those, this was more of a boutique hotel kind of experience than a homestay, not that we minded. Our room was large and had four beds, neat and clean, with a towel on each bed. The sight of a towel after a trek is quite an emotionally-charged moment. Instinctively each of us dropped our rucksack and grabbed the towel, eyed each other and the door and screamed, ‘Me first’. I was obviously shunted down to the third position while Rujuta and Vyjayanthi negotiated who would go first. The bathroom was on the ground floor, a basic one, but who cared. We got a bucket of hot water each and relished it more than the most exclusive sauna.
So, we bathed, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and obviously were starving by now. The family – parents and their two daughters – must have hosted many a trekker because on cue dinner was announced. Rinzin, a vivacious young girl, was studying in a commerce college in Gangtok, as were most of the kids of her age group, and was home on vacation. She was wearing shorts, a tee-shirt, hair straight and shining, just a bit of make-up, chewing on gum, a favourite activity of all youngsters in Yuksom, and was overall a typical hep teenager of Sikkim. She led the way to her kitchen where we sat on floor cushions and were immediately accosted by the aromas. Both her parents were busy putting the finishing touches to the meal and soon started to serve us some of the local delicacies. ‘Apart from the salt and oil in your food, everything else we grow in our garden outside,’ the father proudly declared. ‘Wow,’ all three of us said in unison. The food did taste exceptionally fresh and flavourful. Rinzin took over from her mother in preparing some more dishes and we focused on eating with a ‘bring it on’ resolve.
***
Reality check
Ajit Naik with Neeta and Aryaman
Owner, Multi Organics Private Limited
I had my doubts about the homestay concept, because earlier experiences had not left me with a high opinion of the hygiene standards of the inhabitants of the Indian and Nepalese Himalaya. But my apprehensions were blown away the moment we reached the house. Built in the traditional Lepcha style, the house was well maintained, and the rooms were simply furnished but clean. Our hostess, a cheerful young girl, quickly prepared a dinner of momos, vegetable, dal, rice and chapatis for us. Relaxed and satisfied after the delicious meal, we were ready to socialize. Only, in this instance, socializing consisted of bombarding our hostess with a flurry of questions about her and her family, which she patiently answered, by the way.
I came to know later that Yuksom is one of the success stories of Sikkim tourism. The entire village was picture perfect with clear views of the surrounding forests and mountains. Unlike most Indian hill stations, there were no ugly concrete structures built by hotels and lodges to despoil the scenery. As we set out for our trek, I vowed that I would pray at the nearby Dubdi monastery upon my return, beseeching the gods to maintain status quo at this Eden.
***
By 7:30 p.m. we were done with dinner and headed to the meeting point for the post-trek celebrations (and the cake). Soon, others of our group joined us and almost everyone had a great experience to share about their homestays. All of us had had something different to eat and were passionately projecting our respective dinners as the best possible meal. ‘The saag sabzi our hosts made was the best, period’, ‘Ours was the most unique dal you would ever taste’, etc., etc. Atul, though, was the loudest, declaring: ‘Our Nimo’s momos were beyond comparison, and as proof, I am inviting all of you to our homestay to come and taste them.’ ‘Are you mad, you should first ask her, and by the way, her name is Neema and not Nimo,’ Sangita interjected. ‘But Nimo goes with momo and that way I can remember,’ was Atul’s logic. Anyway, we all accepted Atul’s invitation, on Neema’s behalf, for the next day. Right now, it was time for something else. The excitement levels were building up as the trek staff, notably the snappily-dressed Sangey and Gurung, were running around setting up a table, shouting instructions at each other.
Accompanied by cheers and clapping, the cake made an appearance. ‘Happy Traking Cake’ was written in cream over the brow
n chocolate cake. ‘We baked it backstage, hope you all like it,’ Sangey pretended to be modest, very unlike him. We decided that the youngest in the group, Yash and Aryaman, who had jointly won the (coveted) best trekker award, should cut it for all of us. In the meanwhile, we requested the staff to start with their song and dance programme. They did the typical ‘you sing, no no, you sing’ routine and finally forced one young boy into a slow tempo Sikkimese song. While he was singing, we were distracted by loud grunts and ‘you are useless, let me try’ type of sounds from the two boys bent over the cake with a big knife in hand. We chose to ignore them for a while and instead listened as the trek staff broke into a group song. The next song was accompanied with a few dance steps, and obviously we were asked to join in. As we were just about getting into our groove, Yash came over with the knife in his hand and declared, ‘It’s a rock in the shape of a cake. We can’t cut it, you try.’
‘What nonsense,’ Kavita shouted, snatched the knife from his hand and headed towards the cake with a menacing look. She had really been looking forward to the cake and had declared to anyone who listened that she would have an extra helping. After a minute or two, and after changing the knife in the hope that the first was blunt, she, and all of us, resigned ourselves to eating a rock-hard cake. The sheepish smiles from the trek staff didn’t help as we scraped some cake onto our plates and had a bite or two, depending on how strong our respective sets of teeth were. Our condition however inspired the guys to rack up the tempo and a b-boying performance by Gurung provided the kick that the cake lacked. From there on, songs and dances, traditional and from Hindi movies, just blended seamlessly into each other and continued for a long time.
The next day was as chilled out a day as one can have on a Himalayan trip. In the morning we went for a stroll in the village; actually, more of a full-fledged heritage walk: Danny Denzongpa’s mansion in the centre of the village, the sacred Khecheopalri Lake (wish-fulfilling, also the spot where Sikkim’s first king was anointed) just outside the periphery of the village and the high street (we named it high street as it had all the interesting shops, a cyber café for the locals in the community hall, and the best homes with private gardens). This photo on page xvi in the inserts is from that walk. We then shamelessly assembled at Neema’s home as if it had always been part of the itinerary. Of course she happily made momos for us and of course they were superb, even taking into account Atul’s considerable ability to hype things.
The group was still up for walking and we headed to the Dubdhi monastery, just above Yuksom, and oldest in Sikkim (for some reason, everything in Yuksom comes with an adjective). The climb to the monastery was much fun as all of us, acclimatized to the higher altitude during the trek, showed off how easy it was to climb now. (Details on how exactly this happens in Rujuta’s chapter.) The monastery was beautiful and colourful with thousands of prayer flags strung all over (photograph on page xvi in the inserts). The lamas were friendly and patiently answered all the silly questions we had and even did a prayer for us. The Sikkimese surely know how to make you feel special by being warm, by taking pride in their rich cultural heritage and showcasing that prominently, but mostly by just being themselves.
***
Raju, the Guide
Short mein bole toh, Sikkim has cracked the tourism code and Yuksom is a shining example.
More reading
Some easily-available books and guides that I have read and gained from:
Title
Category
Author
Remarks
Legends of the Lepchas: Folk Tales from Sikkim (2010)
Folk tales
Yishey Doma
Great folk tales involving gods, goddesses, animals and nature. A peek into the history and psyche of the locals.
Khangchendzonga: Sacred Summit (2007)
Culture / history
Pema Wangchuk and Mita Zulca
Kangchendzonga is more than a mountain, and this book is more than a book about this mountain.
What to do in west Sikkim
Trekking – The two main treks in Sikkim are in the west: the Yuksom-Dzongri and the Singalila ridge. Apart from the unavoidable situation of too many people going on these two treks (the ones in north Sikkim are severely restricted), everything about them is superb and they provide all the thrills and highs of a Himalayan trek.
Chilling out – Another great option to do is to not do anything in particular. Go with some time in hand and hop from one village to another (short distances help). As mentioned earlier, there is plenty to see and do in each village.
Nature – Barsey has the only sanctuary in the world dedicated to just one flower, the rhododendron. Well, to its six hundred or so varieties, but it is still just one flower. And it’s a beautiful walk inside the sanctuary in March and April, when they are in bloom.
Point to be noted
Pelling is falling for the lure of ‘development’ in the name of featureless, characterless ‘hotels’. Though the lessons seem to have been learnt as far as other tourist hubs are concerned, it’s sad to see Pelling, arguably one of the prettiest places in Sikkim, suffering this fate. You can help though by the simple measure of choosing where to stay and patronizing the right places when you go there.
Local service providers
Sikkim has the best and widest network of homestays and local organizations who can arrange your trek, transportation, etc.
For west Sikkim, you can work with KCC to organize your homestay and trek in Yuksom like we did.
Another very active organization is ECOSS (Eco-tourism and Conservation Society of Sikkim, an umbrella organization with many smaller arms like KCC) that will help organize your visit and stay in the Barsey area as well as homestays in central Sikkim: www.sikkimhomestay.com.
Story 10
Arunachal – a Preview
Hand-drawn maps for representation purposes only. Not to scale.
All-in-one
What is an ‘all-in-one’ you might ask? It’s the setting, the stage, the cast and the act, rolled into one section because, well as a writer I can experiment, yes, but also to give a glimpse of this region to the reader and to remind him/her that there is just so much more in the Indian Himalaya to explore, to find out about. You could blindly throw a dart at the map of the Indian Himalaya and go to the place where it lands, and it will be the best place you ever visited.
Coming to Arunachal, you can tell from any Himalayan map that it’s the easternmost part of the Himalaya. The mountain chain makes a dramatic U-turn here at Namcha Barwa and ends, just like that. I travelled to Arunachal for the very first time in November of 2011 and here are my impressions (formed over a limited time with limited exposure and limited understanding):
1. It’s a big state. So it’s convenient to divide it into western, central and eastern Arunachal, geographically distinct and culturally too. It’s the western part that has managed to fall under ‘well-travelled’ regions in the Indian Himalaya, with a road journey from Guwahati to Tawang and back as the crowd-puller. The infrastructure is relatively better, with a big emphasis on relatively, though the hotels and guesthouses are getting better and there are enough ‘sights’ to see on the way.
2. Make no mistake, it’s an overwhelming journey, through the thick jungles before Bomdilla and over the snows of Sela Pass to Tawang, but it’s doable. Get yourself a comfortable car and enough days in hand and you can do so without much planning at all. Bomdilla onwards, it’s primarily Buddhists and Monpas, the original inhabitants, and the monasteries and Monpa stone houses become the main attractions. Above Tawang, towards the Indo-China border, are some spectacular alpi
ne lakes and all it takes is an easily obtainable permit and a car to get you there.
3. As an ode to the exploratory bent of the Hindi movie industry, a word you hear the most in western Arunachal is ‘koyla’. The movie was shot extensively in this region, from the waterfalls (off the road) and the alpine lakes above Tawang, at a time when Arunachal was still an unknown land for most of us. The locals haven’t forgotten it, and till date the main duty of the driver is to show you or tell you about all the places where Madhuri Dixit danced.
4. The Indo-China war in 1962 affected this region hugely and there are museums to commemorate the brave soldiers who died fighting a lost battle, and roads built to ensure it doesn’t happen again.
5. It’s the central and eastern parts that still retain the ‘untouched’ tag. The inhabitants are mostly the tribals, very friendly, and although in some danger of being exploited, holding on to their way of life. The mountains are smaller and gentler, but the forests are thicker and almost impenetrable. Adventure-seekers are having a field day in the jungles and rivers here, rafting and staying (read drinking and dancing) with the natives. Harish Kapadia is writing a book on Arunachal, and without doubt it will be essential to planning your travel there.
6. Coming back to the western region, I have travelled here and thus can speak about it more. I found the locals, err, amusing. Painting them with a very wide brush (and based solely on my seven days there), I am going to say that men are by default lazy while women are pretty and hardworking. What’s the big deal, you ask. Perhaps I should rephrase it as ‘men are slothful’. They start drinking after breakfast and try their best to drive tourists out from the dhabas their wives are working so hard to run. When asked the typical question about India or China, they take a sip of their cheap army-supplied rum, look at you and say ‘India humein kuch deta nahi hai’. Anjali, one of our group members, had this response: ‘In China, you can’t even say this about them’.