![Picture](/uploads/9/1/8/2/9182665/published/img-4912.jpg?1580329011)
We got some water at a corner shop and then went to a burger place where they sold burgers typical to Mumbai. The Mumbai one has a veggie patty in it but since I think we were both tempted and thinking in terms of getting more energy/protein, both my Chinese friend and I picked tandoori paneer burger instead. Not really typically Mumbai ish anymore but oh well.
Then we went up to the metro station and waited there. Waited for quite a long time for my Indian friends' friends, the organizers of the trek. We probably waited for at least forty minutes before a fit looking dark-skinned man showed up, and a strongly built girl with fluffy hair who both turned out to be the organizers of the trip. Along with them was a very slim girl with straight hair. The girl with the fluffy hair apologized a lot for being so late and hugged my friend. She introduced herself and then the others. I knew I'd forget their names and it turns out my friend and I called one of the girls the wrong name the entire weekend… We said goodbye to my friend and went with the strangers upstairs to take the metro.
Now that I had gone saree shopping, it was as if I had learnt to appreciate the sarees and pretty much all of the females' clothes in a completely different way; I was watching like every woman that walked past, admiring the colours, the contrast in the colours and the patterns and various design of the kurtas. The amazing thing is that even the women working with sweeping the train platform wear sarees. I saw entire families who lived in along the street on the way to the train station and even they were wearing them. Everyone wears them. While we were waiting at the train station, some women also came carrying big things on their heads. That's a common sight in sub-Saharan Africa but I've only seen a few women here and there do it.
Some trains passed by as we waited, with overcrowded vehicles; the doors close manually so basically nobody closes them. That way, even more people can fit into the train by only standing with one foot on the train, the rest of the body hanging outside. That's how overcrowded all of the vehicles were - with men. The first ten or so vehicles only had men, then a single vehicle with women only, then a couple more with men, one with women. Basically they have gendered vehicles, and also one for handicapped people and cancer patients, as marked by a handicap sign and a sign with a crab on it. We were going in the opposite direction so there weren't quite as many people on the train we eventually boarded. We even got seats, or that is we, the women. I don't know about our male organizer as he was obviously in a different vehicle.
All the doors and even windows were open and the ceiling was completely filled with fans so there was more than enough draft. I asked myself what a person from the Balkans would have done in this situation… (They're terrified of drafts. Read my post from Kosovo if you think I'm exaggerating.) The seats were just benches so even though they were probably made for three people, four could easily squeeze in. They were also hard, and facing each other so you could chat to the people in front of you. Not exactly comfort worth bragging about.
We met up again with the male organizer when getting off at the main station in Mumbai. Though we didn't see all the sections, the size surprised me a bit; the part where we were waiting for some other people to join us wasn't much bigger than the main area of King's Cross, or at least it didn't feel overwhelmingly big. It was close to 11 PM when some more people joined us and we got onto another train.
To my rather big disappointment, this train was exactly the same as the previous one; uncomfortable seats and lots of draft, yet we were going to spend from 11 PM-1.30 AM on this train. The only difference was that we were in a mixed vehicle so the entire group could stay together. I had asked my friend if I should bring my thin jacket with me in case it'd get cold on the way, and she had even called her friend, the organizer to ask if we needed it but they had said no. So I didn't bring it, and didn't even have long sleeves with me so the draft was making me cold. We had borrowed fleece blankets from my friend and that was the only thing I could wrap around me and try to sleep. At some point, the train got extremely crowded, like the ones we had seen pass us at the station so we were lucky to have seats. Made me wonder where all of these people were going so damn late on a Friday night/Saturday morning.
My friend and I seemed to be the only ones in the group interested in trying to get some sleep. The five or so other people were talking, eating snacks, laughing, singing… I'm not sure I slept much because of the noise and cold but my friend and I could get a bench each as more and more people got off so she lied down and I put my legs up.
I think the train arrived quite punctually at 1.30 ish at the end station of Kesara. A lot of other people with backpacks got off and the organizers explained that there were many other popular treks in the area. Some other people were probably going to Sandhan Valley like us, but others in other directions. My friend had explained to me that this was a popular time to go trekking because it wasn't too hot.
It was a small village and of course everything was closed so I didn't get any feel for the size or what it was like, there were mostly just lots of jeeps along the street from the station waiting to pick up people. The organizers opened the back door of a Jeep with a green and purple light on the back and told my friend and me to get in. Another guy sat next to my friend, one guy at the front and the rest of them sat in the boot so to speak on seats that were facing each other and so that they would travel sideways. I get the feeling they put us in the front seats for comfort, though even where we were sitting, there was no rest for the head, so I had to sink forward to be able to lean my head on the backrest instead to try to sleep. It was almost even worse now; they had got speakers with them and were now shouting their lungs out along to the Indian songs.
Somewhere along the way - I have no sense of whether it was at the beginning or middle of the drive - we made a stop. My friend decided to stay in the car and used the opportunity to lie down on all the seats and sleep, but I went with the others to the washroom and to get some chai.
"Did your friend not get any rest this afternoon?" they asked.
It should have been obvious but somehow I hadn't realized; that's how they were so damn energetic! Sleeping would indeed have been a very good idea but no…I mean we had been busy shopping.
"No… And we just arrived to Mumbai with a morning flight today so we're very tired in fact…" I replied. I'm not really sure why they only thought she hadn't slept, I was also tired but for the sake of being social, I had joined them for tea.
We continued driving and got to a tiny and very primitive village at around 5 AM in the morning. There were some dogs around but otherwise I didn't pay much attention to my surroundings, partially because of the darkness and also because my contact lenses were sticking so I couldn't see much. We took our shoes off outside and went into a house where they laid out camping mats for us and where they told us we could sleep for a bit. There was no pillow and I only had that fleece blanket even though it was pretty cold. Definitely regretted not bringing the jacket or at least a cardigan. Instead I put a big t-shirt on, which still a slight improvement to the single tank top I was wearing, and pulled my arms inside.
We only got to sleep around two hours before waking us up but it felt like ages since I was probably awake the entire or at least most of the time feeling cold. There had also been a baby crying somewhere in the house and I had heard a rooster crowing outside. It was still mostly dark outside. I wanted to message people back home where I was but there was neither 4G nor even mobile coverage. Safe to say that we were far out of reach.
Despite the simplicity of the house, it had multiple rooms so I asked if there was like a toilet or washroom somewhere. There was, at the back, but someone else was using it. The girl with the fluffy hair came out and showed me that there was a flashlight inside. I had brought a headlight with me all the way from home just for this trek but idiot me, now that I needed it, hadn't checked the batteries - so of course it was out… I went outside to bring my shoes to the washroom so I could wear them in there. The washroom was basically just a small room with a hole in the ground. But at least the hole had been fitted with one of those "toilet" holes, like the ones they have in some public toilets here and other places around the world. I had brought a roll of toilet paper from the hotel in Jaipur since I suspected we might need it so I used some of that even though there was no way to flush. There was a bucket of water in the corner so I took the small container floating around in it and poured some of it down the toilet; the water went down but not much happened to the paper. I figured it would go down eventually though. Then I made sure to use plenty of hand sanitizer.
I love going off the beaten track and I had wanted so see villages; Indian life outside the cities, remote places. However, coming here, perhaps due to my lack of sleep, I felt like I had got more than I had begged for, and just wanted to get back to Mumbai ASAP.
We waited for a long time. So long we weren't really sure why we had been woken up, though admittedly some were still asleep. It started getting bring outside and I went outside to put my shoes back. The house was coloured pink and actually had a roof of metal plates but except for that and the toilet, it was very primitive. There was some sort of boiler outside that was made for firing up to hear water. Chicken were running along the neighbouring house and children's clothes were hanging on the bushes. A mother came out from another door of the same house as the one we had slept in with a baby in her arms and there was a little girl with short hair following her around. After probably at least an hour or so, we finally got some chai. We all, or that is the people that were awake, sat on the floor inside and drank from small paper cups. They're not much for big cups of chai here. Perhaps that's why it's "okay" to put so much sugar in it.
![Picture](/uploads/9/1/8/2/9182665/published/img-4956.jpg?1580329567)
It was probably around 9 when everyone was finally ready to leave. We did a little safety talk and intro; the female organizer would walk at the front, the male one at the back. They both had walkie talkies attached to the strap of their backpacks. We'd walk through Sandhan Valley and then descend from there; no climbing or going uphill. There'd be three rappelling points, the first one being the biggest descend. There'd also be a point where we'd have to cross water reaching approximately up to your chest and something about forming like a human chain to carry our things over. I was starting to feel very ill prepared; I only had an extra top and socks but no extra pants. I don't even own another pair of trekking pants… We'd reach the campsite around 6 PM.
Everyone introduced themselves with name and some basic facts. There were eight of us in total and a balance of four girls and five boys. The male organizer hadn't kept exact count but he thought this might be his 100th trek, second time doing Sandhan Valley. Normally, he worked with human resources. Many of them seemed to keep track of how many treks they had done and gave that up during the intro round like an achievement. I don't think I've done any so instead I told them that I don't usually keep track of my travelling either but I had before coming to India, and turns out it's my 55th country. The female organizer was a physiotherapist working mostly with cancer patients. There was a guy there who was a dancer and choreographer, and another tall guy who was a personal trainer. A very diverse group in other words. Some of them knew each other from before although there did seem to be some strangers. We found out from my friend after the trip that they had been close to cancelling the trek since they're usually a group of like 25 people. There had been some 10-12 people signed up but with a couple of last-minute cancellations. However, since my friend had known the organizers, she had reminded them that my friend and I would only be here for this weekend so she asked them to please not cancel. So we were lucky, and in terms of group dynamics and (at least sort of) remembering people's names, I think it was a good size.
We started walking and reached the valley in just a short time. It was just rocks as far as the eyes could see. I think the group was moving really slowly because they were just taking so many pictures posing on big rocks. They had also got their speakers out and were playing music instead of enjoying the peaceful quiet of nature.
We reached a place where we had to walk in water but it was only up to your knees or so. They ones walking ahead of me complained about how cold the water was so I was expecting like a nice cold exposure.
"What are you talking about?! This isn't cold at all!" I shouted to the guys as I put my first foot into the water, having taken my shoes and socks off and tied them to my backpack. They laughed, said that of course I wouldn't find it cold. But honestly, I'm not good at estimating water temperature but it was probably at least 15 degrees. It was definitely a lot warmer than the cold exposure pools at five degrees that I sometimes do at home. The sir temperature also wasn't nearly as bad as I had feared, perhaps because we were in a valley with shade, perhaps because we were high up in the mountains so it was colder. Either way, it was not at all unbearable to wear my black pants and a tank top.
I put my shoes back on, though not my socks, since I knew we still had that deep water crossing point coming up soon. They had said it would be at the beginning of the trek. I had started considering taking my trekking pants off so I wouldn't have to walk around in wet pants for the rest of the trek; after all my top was quite long so it would cover me decently. I'd still have wet underwear though and in terms of sanity, it felt safer to keep the trekking pants on as well. My head was spinning with arguments with my inner self when we reached the second and deep water point. We had caught up with another group that was almost done crossing; it was quite far to the other side. From where I was standing, I couldn't even see the "other side" but mostly because the valley made a slight turn. The entire way wasn't chest deep though but it was way too long to make any human chain.
![Picture](/uploads/9/1/8/2/9182665/published/img-8185.jpg?1580329643)
Then we continued hiking. Starting seeing the sunny mountain side on the other side of the valley. The rocks got bigger and harder to descend, you needed both arms and legs to support yourself and lean against rocks. Sometimes you couldn't reach the rock beneath you without sitting on your butt and letting yourself slide a bit. We ended up doing a lot of sliding. I was feeling extremely thankful for both my flexibility and strength from ballet, yoga and powerlifting.
When it was around noon, I asked if we'd stop anywhere to get real lunch or if we were just meant to eat our snacks. The female organizer said we'd stop and get a real meal after the first rappelling point. I was hungry though so I got one of my snacks out of the bag. Then I asked how high that first rappelling point would be. Around 100 feet she said. I had to get my phone out to convert it though; about 30 metres. That's the same height as Klatretøsen I thought to myself, who was this girl who had to climb a shaft of 30 metres to rob a bank to afford surgery for her dad in a Danish children's film I really loved.
As we approached the rappelling point, the valley also started providing less shade and it got hotter. My friend had asked how long until we'd reach the first point and we had got the answer of ten minutes. I didn't check the time when she said it but it was more like 1-2 hours… So basically we've learnt not to trust them when speaking about time, which reminded me of being in Africa where I always had to ask my friend if he meant 10 African minutes or real minutes.
There were lots of other groups when we finally reached the rappelling point. You couldn't even see how far down it was, only that lots of people were descending with helmets on at various speeds and varying skill. It looked so easy, harmless, in a way, yet I knew that wouldn't be the case when I'd be standing on the edge myself. Thankfully, our "host", the father of the house where we had stayed in the morning, had put our rappelling point on the left side of the valley, so while we were waiting to get down, we could wait in the shade. It had got really hot in the sun so I had even started fearing I'd get sunburned but I borrowed some sunblock from my friend.
I was the last one to go except the organizers. I got the harness around my legs, a bright orange helmet, and black gloves. I got attached to the rope in a way that was suitable for lefties like myself. I was to "sit down" in the air, lean back, keep my legs straight and apart, then pull the rope behind me bit by bit with my left hand. This is when insanity kicked in. I couldn't see up because of the screen on the helmet and I knew it was a bad idea to look down so basically all I could see was the wall of rock I was supposed to lean and kick away from.
"Lean back! Keep your legs straight! A bit to the left. Keep your legs apart! To the right!" the male organizer shouted from the too with a supportive tone. As I got further down, and he lost sight of me, I started hearing the voices of the dancer from down below taking over the instructions and chanting things like "you're almost there! Doing well! A bit to the left, you're doing great!" And before I knew it, I was down, almost crashed down. When the others asked how I had found it, I didn't know what to tell them. I still don't really know what to tell you. Was it scary? Yes. Was it fun? I dunno. Neither fun nor boring. Would you do it again? If I had to but not necessarily otherwise.
When the organizers came down, we finally got something to eat; chipati and some bean or lentil thing with pickled mango that was quite spicy. When we had finished eating, we waited for our host to get down. Don't ask me how he did it; pretty much all of us fell asleep on the rocks where we had been eating. A very well deserved nap.
Though the highest rappelling point was over, the toughest parts were not nearly done. There were several places that required more sliding, climbing down, turning to face the rock while trying to find a place to hold on to and another place to step. In some places big branches had been put in place because otherwise you wouldn't be able to reach the ground below you. In one place two(!) men from another group held their hands against the rock for you like steps so you could "climb" down. The other "rappelling" places were perhaps even more scary than the first one because for the second one, you didn't even get any harness; you just had to hold onto a rope with knots in and climb down. Easier said than done when you had to turn halfway down and there was water running alongside or across the way you were descending so some people who kinda slipped got really wet. I got out extremely well with only minor wetness on one side of my leg and a tiny bit on the side of my top.
There were also a few more points where we had to cross water. Some places you could balance your way on small rocks but in one spot the next big stone was just too damn far away. Even though a guy from another group stood on it and held his hand out to help me, I could tell there was no way I'd make it. So I thought screw this and stepped into the water even if I hadn't taken my shoes off. The one shoe that went into the water got completely soaked and made swampy sounds when I got out. At another point, you could see down through a hole 4-5 metres below. So basically, you stood on a massive rock that wasn't even touching the ground but that was just stuck between two other rocks. And between all these three rocks, you could see down. And down there was where we were going, kinda through another hole between the rocks, again with a plain rope with knots. No harness. If you lost your grip, you'd have a pretty hard landing. Though the household father was helping you at the top, and another one helping you at the bottom, it was goddamn scary. There was another crossing point of water with significantly lower temperature than the previous ones. Even I thought it was cold now.
![Picture](/uploads/9/1/8/2/9182665/published/img-5005.jpg?1580330367)
The last rappelling point was slightly better. Still no harness but they tied the rope around your back and you got the gloves back on so it wouldn't be as uncomfortable to climb down. Instead it hurt a bit around the chest as you sank down and the rope tightened. The last rappelling point was followed by another section of water. My friend and I decided to cross it before resting and waiting for the others to cross. There were some people helping us cross, so we went one by one. I was waiting on a big rock behind some other girl as I watched my friend cross. She was just about to take the hand of a man on a big rock in the middle of the water when, either she slipped or stepped in a bad place and fell in, water up to her waist. I was so worried she had her phone in the pocket of her pants but luckily, she had put it in her backpack just before getting into the water. I decided on doing the same thing. Took my shoes off again, the soaking shoe and socks. I got over safely, and as we waited for the others who were a bit behind, we sat barefoot in the sun and waited, letting our socks and shoes soaking up some of the heat that was left for the day. It was around 5 PM and we could pretty much see the camping site. We had made it.
We got to the camping site just as the sun was about to set. It was just behind a tree so we didn't have complete view of it, but enough to see that it was unusually big, and the clouds had made an unusual pattern in the light blue and pink sky. The beauty was almost worth the entire day worth of trekking. Our hosts were in the process of setting up tents for us, and since my friend and I had got their before everyone else, we picked first. Picked the one that seemed to have the most protection from the other tents, since my friend said it seemed like it might become a windy night. They asked if we had any water bottles, as they were going down to the stream to fill them. I had folded the empty one together so it'd take less space so it was unusable, so I finished the little water I had left in the second water bottle and gave it to them.
My friend and I took another nap once they had put that mat inside the tent. When I woke up, my friend was sitting outside the tent with some others in the group admiring the stars in the sky. I decided I needed some more time by myself so I joined them later, a bit further away from the tents, where they had started a small fire. My friend was teaching them Chinese and they were teaching her words in Hindi. One guy asked her to sing in Chinese and asked the meaning of the lyrics. Then they all sang some song together in Hindi. I thought of "sacrificing" myself and offering a crash course in Icelandic but knew I'd be asked to sing and I couldn't remember any lyrics so I was a bit screwed without 4G coverage. Additionally, nobody seemed to be interested, although I figure it was just because they all thought our native language is English.
It was really late, around 10, when dinner was finally ready. 9 is apparently normal dinner time in India, so I think this was late even for them. Plus we were obviously starving after the long day despite snacks on the way; my friend and I had bought boiled eggs from some locals who had been boiling them nearby our camp when we were at the very end of our trek. There had also been some guy selling lemonade during the trek that we had bought.
There was plenty of food available for dinner; paneer, boiled eggs, rice with daal (lentils), papel (a thin crispy type of bread) and roti. We've been very good at soaking up the local culture and eating with our hands the entire time but we had only had bread that you can easily dip in everything and shape like a spoon to dig up things. My Indian friend has taught me that when we had met in London last time and gone to an Indian restaurant. But now we were having rice as well - with sauce. I observed the personal trainer as he poured the curry daal over the rice and mixed it all together with his right hand and used all five fingers too scoop it up and eat. In Asia, the trick to eating rice with chopsticks is to not put sauce on it so that it will stick together in lumps that you can eat. That is definitely not the case here. And use all fingers to stir and eat, otherwise it's impossible to ever finish your rice. Trust me, I tried with three and it just doesn't work. The dancer guy got up first, saying he was fine, "it's too spicy for me!"
He said he didn't like spicy food and I said he must be the only one in India who doesn't like spicy food. He explained that his mother would usually cook a special non spicy dish just for him since the rest of the family did enjoy spicy stuff. I felt sorry for him living in a country where literally everything is spicy but my friend's father, when he heard about it, said "no, feel sorry for his mother!" Fair point I guess - but stíll. Not liking spicy food is even worse than not liking liquorish in Iceland…
My friend and I went went to sleep at around 10.30 PM. I don't know if the others went later, but I heard the dancer say that all he could see when closing his eyes were rocks. My nose was extremely stuffy due to having neglected some allergy medicines, and I didn't have anything to use as a pillow except for my backpack that mostly contained my toiletries and my camera. Despite the thin camping mat on the rock, I fell asleep almost immediately, and didn't wake up until 5 AM ish. It was the wind that my friend had warned about. We had left the 'window' on the tent open to get some air in, but the zipper didn't work so we couldn't close it. The wind was both making loud sounds and making the walls move, and it seemed some other people had woken up by it too so they were chatting. I was awake for some time, also trying to get comfortable with my 'pillow', though sometimes it was just nicer to lie plainly on the mat.
I think it was around 7 or 8 that I woke up by my friend leaving the tent. Apparently it was the second time she left but I had slept through the first time. It was probably closer to 9 AM though by the time we had breakfast. It was still really windy, and since we were sleeping on solid rock, it hadn't been possible to pin down the tents, the only solution was to put rocks on the 'pins' but they had all blown away. So the tents that weren't in use anymore had been taken down. I sat in the dancer's tent as he was pretty much the only one who still hadn't got up, and then we had chai and later got maggi.
Sunday was Indian Republic Day, pretty much like their national day so one guy had brought an Indian flag with him. It was also some girl's birthday from another group so all the groups that were camping at the site gathered in a big circle around the birthday girl who was waving the Indian flag - my friend and I were the only foreigners on the entire campsite. Then they all sang loud and clear along to the national anthem. I stood in the circle and watched amazed at how they all knew the lyrics; at home people my age, and the age that circle consisted of, would not have been able to pull that off. We know the end part of our anthem, and maybe some words here and there but we can't sing it. We don't sing it enough to remember it, even though we had to memorize it in school but that was ages ago.
![Picture](/uploads/9/1/8/2/9182665/published/img-5080.jpg?1580330509)
It was around 10 when we finally left the camp site. We were the last group to leave. I asked if there'd be any mosquitos, as I'd want to borrow some repellant from my friend in that case, but they said there weren't, just like in the valleys. I found that strange since I had definitely got a bite during the hike. They looked at it and notably got a bit confused but said it must have been some other insect since were no mosquitos there.
Sunday's "hike" was a lot easier; it was fairly flat but it was also hotter because there was very little to shield us from the sun. It was only around two hours and I was walking second together with the personal trainer. Nobody had followed the rules of the organizers going first and last at any time so we were well ahead of the others. He was quite knowledgeable about Iceland, and was one of those who had heard that it's real/justifiable name should be Greenland and vice versa and he'd love to come to see the northern lights.
At some point, we decided to wait for the others because they were just nowhere to be seen, but they turned out to be closer than we had thought. I started talking to this other, somewhat particular guy that had been really willing to lend a hand during the trek even though he seemed like the most insecure/scared of all the group when climbing down and doing rappelling. I don't remember how we got onto the topic but I basically learnt that he thought Iceland was somewhere close to China. Fair, it's a small country, but the way he admitted it made it sound like he even thought we were a region or district of China rather than a country of our own - and certainly not a European one. Then he asked me what he could see in Iceland and since I had just been talking about northern lights with the personal trainer, I gave him that as an example.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Uhm…ask him," I said and pointed ahead of us to the personal trainer who was now talking to my friend. He tried to explain it to him in Hindi and after some time he turned to me again and asked "like the first rays of the sun?" Both the personal trainer and I laughed so much. I told him I'd show him once we got 4G again.
We met some locals on the way; a couple of kids asking for biscuits. We also met some more guys with a large metal bucket, similar to the ones used for milk in the olden days, who were selling lemonade. This time, we got two glasses. My friend was curious as to how they squeezed the lemons since they were cut differently from the way we're used to when needing to squeeze lemons. They showed us a little utensil that looked like a garlic presser but that was clearly optimized for lemon pressing instead. We also passed some kids under a tree selling small green and yellowish berries. My friend decided to try some, as our Indian group said they were cherries yet looked nothing like the cherries either of us are used to at least. Maybe I got an unripe one but I didn't like mine as it was mostly just bitter.
We reached some jeeps pretty much exactly at noon. Somehow we had caught up with some of the other groups even though I had hardly seen any other group on the way. Our jeep wasn't there yet though, so we got to wait inside some other jeep to get out of the rather burning sun as there was pretty much nothing else around. We waited perhaps 15 minutes until our jeep arrived.
Unlike the other jeep ride where people had been super energetic, everyone seemed finished from the trek and I think almost all of us fell asleep after we had passed the bumpiest part of the way past local villages and women washing sarees in the river. I only woke up because my watch suddenly started vibrating; message notifications. We were back in reach with the rest of the world. Luckily, nobody had sent worrying messages but since it seemed like I had forgotten to tell people about the trek, I immediately sent some messages to let them know about the trekking and rappelling adventures but that we had made it and were all good. My friend on the other hand had apparently missed a lot of messages and things were going crazy at her work because of the Coronavirus (she works for an NGO that specializes in natural disaster relief and other emergencies - such as this one). We almost didn't hear her say a single word from when we got the network connection back to when we got back to Mumbai some 5 hours later.
In the meantime, our group kept getting smaller as some of the people didn't live in Mumbai and thus needed to catch their train from elsewhere, or get off earlier. The dancer had tried to teach me some Indian moves and phrases and had a final one before he got off the train; machaia - or something like that, meaning like "we had a blast". We thanked everyone for the weekend as they got off, and ended up in northern Mumbai, where we had started, at around 6 PM after the Jeep ride, a one hour wait at the train station, and two train rides. The slim girl still had another 3h train ride in order to get home. The personal trainer had left sometime on the first train and he had told me he wouldn't be home until sometime early the next morning, that's how far away he lived, or as I'd put it; that's how far he had come just for the trek.
My friend was going to meet us at the station but she had got stuck running some errands so her friend, the female organizer, was going to take us home with her and my friend would come pick us up there when she was done. So we got to see another Indian home.
Her parents welcomed us into their home, which was like on the 6th floor. They had a great view, and also one of those swings. This time we asked, and apparently it is for sitting/swinging. One of their walls in the living room was lime green. It was connected to the kitchen with a dining/kitchen table. She was just about to show us the bathroom so we could freshen up, when we almost stepped on their pet; a tortoise called Brownie. My friend and I forgot all about freshening up and spent probably fifteen minutes or more just getting lots of (probably stupid) questions and holding and admiring Brownie. It was a 5-year old star tortoise, called so because it's shell's patterns looks like stars. He liked strangers but he didn't like when the family left, for example for holidays. Then he'd stop eating. And when he wanted company, he'd walk to the mother in the kitchen and poke her feet with his head to get her attention. He also really liked chocolate - but otherwise his diet was purely vegetarian. I just had no clue turtles had so much personality.
She had bought some samosa on the way from the train station as well as some yellow fermented thing that I remember neither what was not what it was called. I guess we hadn't had anything real to eat since breakfast, and even breakfast consisted only of noodles so we were quite hungry. Her dad also poured some bhakarwardi onto a plate; they looked like tiny cinnamon rolls but were hard and crispy and of course they weren't cinnamon rolls. They were a specialty from Pune, where our friend who is getting married is from, some 2-3 hours from Mumbai. They also asked if we wanted something we didn't hear.
"We have no idea what that is, but sure. We're open to trying anything," my friend and I said. What we didn't realize was that they cooked it just for us. Otherwise we would probably have said it wasn't needed since we had plenty of food already.
My friend tried the "cinnamon" rolls before me and when I asked her what they were like, she first said they were sweet - but then they got spicy. The samosas had also been quite spicy, so the yellow fermented squares was the only non spicy thing. While we were eating, the girl's brother came and his wife. Just like my Indian friend, there were two doors, so they said that they had thought they had come to the wrong flat when they had seen my Chinese friend and me through the metal window of the inner door.
My Indian friend arrived around 7 or 8, having picked up all our sarees and other dresses that had now been fitted. Then we got the fourth dish that they had cooked specially for us; it was also yellow and looked like a pudding or porridge - which it also turned out to be, based on semolina. It was called halwa and was sweet. Very nice actually. Whenever something is yellow, it's because of turmeric. Curry is not yellow here.
We made some plans around the table for when I come back from the wedding as I'd probably have one more day in Mumbai. We also started talking about weddings as my Indian friend had failed to tell them that she was getting married in December. I wondered how come her close friends didn't know when I had known. They were all congratulating her while at the same time "telling her off" for not having told them sooner. She said that in fact her fiancé had dropped her off but she had felt like it'd be too much to bring him upstairs considering they didn't even know she was getting married; they'd kill her or something she joked.
I had asked her like on Friday how long she had known him for. "Not very long," she had said and explained that it was an arranged wedding. Her parents had talked to his parents and had liked the sound of him. Then my friend had got his number and he hers so they could talk. They liked each other so now they're getting married. I asked what would have happened if she hadn't liked him; then they wouldn't have got married. The guide we had had at Taj Mahal had told us he had only met his wife for an hour before their wedding. Such an interesting culture…but at least it doesn't seem forced since they can still have a say about liking each other. I thought to myself that the first date must be so awkward when you know you're meeting for the sole reason of knowing whether you'd make a good couple. But then I thought a bit more about it and realized that a lot of other dates even in the Western world is kinda the same I guess, the difference being that at home, you can do things at your own pace and you're not obliged to update your parents on whether you like them or not - and there's (probably) less pressure to like someone than here in this culture.
It was quite late when we thanked the family for their amazing hospitality and headed back to my friend's place. There, we tried the dresses and saree tops on and reached the conclusion that both my Indian friend (who had spontaneously bought a dress she really liked) and I needed to get our dresses slightly tightened. We left the sarees themselves untouched as they had been neatly folded and put in plastic bags.
Even though it was late, we got some dinner that my friend's mother had cooked. They were going to get spoons for the rice for my friend and me "since you're not used to eating with your hands" they said, but we insisted on eating the local way. Even though we all inherently eat with our hands, eating rice with your hands just isn't all that easy, and they literally don't leave a single grain of rice on their plates. And somehow it feels like we're doing it wrong, kinda like you can eat (i.e. manage to get food into your mouth) with chopsticks even though you hold them completely wrong. That's how I feel eating with my hands; it works but it feels like I'm doing it wrong or stupidly ineffectively.
Anyway, it's been a long post. Next time I might share some recipes, as the next post is about the cooking class my friend and I took - so you definitely do not want to miss out on that. Stay tuned and thanks for reading!