We are about to leave. we wait in the Delhi airport for our flight to Bhutan. Since missing our first flight of this trip to Hawaii, we've arrived very early to each flight since. Three hours early today. Two to deal with the extraordinarily slow and tedious airport security, and an extra one to try to get another 3 window seats on the left side of the plane. We heard from a fellow traveler in Mongolia that this flight — Delhi to Katmandhu to Paro – is one of the most beautiful in the world, because if you are sitting on the left side of the plane, you can see 20 of the 22 highest peaks of the Himalayas. We got two window seats.
That's probably OK because Rachel's fear of flying has intensified as our travels have progressed. It seems like a fear of heights combined with a deep distrust for being off the ground. She said it really wasn't a problem for her until after having kids, and not even a severe issue until this trip. But window seats are bad for her. She clings my arm in terror with every bump of turbulence, and can't seem to relax. I've suggested drugs, sleep, meditation, earplugs, movies, VR. She refuses basically everything. I dno't know what to do.
India's been hard for her. The reality of child marriages, child widows and the caste system seem to have finally sunk in for her. I think I went through those same horrors after watching Slumdog Millionaire years ago. Somehow that movie didn't sink in for her in the same way, which came clear when she suggested we watch it as a family (I refused). But it became clear here, particularly after spending time in Kumbalgarh with the Me to We project, in which we heard in detail the impact of Hinduism and the caste system on our very lovely hosts, as well as the challenges the women of the rural villages of this secluded mountain town.
Seclusion has allowed the villagers here to retain an indigenous culture for thousands of years. While they have retained their gods (to a degree) and their customs (to a degree), it has left them as literal outcasts from the mainstream society. Some of the consequences of being outcasts are poor health, nutrition and education — at least compared to their more modern Indian counterparts.
We visited a local hamlet to help a woman one day, and we met a bunch of local children, since it was a holiday. Everyone is short; even the 14 year olds we met were a head shorter than Anika. The woman we helped has a decent house, with 3 rooms: one for her and her husband, one for children or guests + kitchen, and one for the goats. It's not too bad by local standards, but by "not too bad" I mean that it had a roof and a chimney on the stove, so the kitched did not completely fill up with smoke when she cooked bread.
The charity we were helping had provided the stove. They also provided education about boiling water to stay healthy. The water of this town is drawn from open wells — picture a big cistern in the ground, with an open top. When it rains, all of the poop in the fields runs off into the wells, and then it is consumed by the villagers. This is, as you can imagine, not too healthy. People get sick often because they don't have a habit to boil the water. They have some other weird habits too. Such as, they don't use bathrooms; they just poop in the fields (they don't dig a hole or anything). Open defecation. I'm used to seeing this with farm animals, and there are many, but not for people. And poop is sort of everywhere. Every month, cow or buffalo poop is mixed with mud to plaster the walls of the house. We did some of this. On the day after Diwali, people make dolls out of poop and place them at their curb to represent their sins, so passers-by can stop out the badness and make it go away. Girls drop out of school at puberty because there are no toilets, and they don't want to do their lady business in front of the boys and teachers. So let's just say they have a very different relationship with poop than we do.
And water. So basic. I am aware that I take it for granted at home, but it really drives that priviledge home when I fear for my health with every shower and every meal. Dont talk in the shower. Don't sing in the shower. Don't breathe through your mouth in the shower (this is hard). At each meal, carefully inquire with the waiter, "is the mint sauce made with regular water, or bottled water?" Inspect the bathrooms of restaurants to get a sense for the cleanliness of the kitchen. And only order vegetarian food, and make sure it's steaming when it arrives.
So far, we have not gotten really sick here. Rachel and I both had a day or two when we felt a bit off, but we've basically been good. We broke "the rules" at some of the hotels, accepting ice in our drinks after hearing promises it was made with bottled water. And eating some fresh vegetables and even some chicken on two occassions (when we saw it being cooked). The food has been delicious. Like, really, really delicious. I LOVE Indian food. We got a couple lessons, but I think I'll need more hands-on experience with the timings and techniques after we get home.
I will miss this place. I loved the deep contrasts in Delhi. The delicious food, and the chaos of electrical wires and people. The insane traffic, and how everyone seems to make it work. The cows who own the roads, and the deep love for vegetarian cuisine. The brightly colored saris and the kindness of the people.
But I'm ready to move on. Ready to hike in clean mountain air. Ready for a cooler climate. Ready not to be so afraid of the water. Ready for basic hygeine to be commonplace. I'm not sure if I'll find it in Bhutan, but I hope so.
Please tell me that after that last bit of India you are taking your lovely wife and girls to a fabulous resort with a a spa and spoiling them. For a week! You have the most patient wife and daughters ever.
I read about the good, bad and ugly in your post. About Rachel’s fear of flying, she might try taking Propranolol (Inderol) which is very helpful for some people who have performance anxiety and phobias. It isn’t sedating. If she wants to temporarily raise her spirits she can rapidly say “Raffle travel babble” three times. Lastly, she may try to find a hypnotist who can help her learn self hypnosis using a key word such as “rajah” since this problem is mentioned in an Indian context.
Love, Dad
Hayes and Rachel and Paloma and Anika- I am so loving all of your written posts and photos. Thank you for sharing and keep it up!
For all your trials and tribulations you will no doubt have such amazing stories — Family adventures writ large! Love you all!