The Chutney Chapters: Indiana Jonesing

While I previously admitted to having very few expectations prior to arriving in India, one I definitely did not expect was how overwhelmingly beautiful the landscape of this country can be when not touched by its rapid urbanization. I got my first hint at such a phenomenon when we left Mumbai for Durshett (sp?) where our orientation would take place. By the time we were an hour outside the city, the half-finished towers and crowed slums had given way to large stretches of rolling green hills. By the time we were just outside Durshett, the terrain had become so dominated by vegetation that it almost seemed like we had been transported a completely different country. Unfortunately, during our first couple days in Durshett we weren't really given the opportunity to explore our verdant surroundings, instead having to focus on the obviously unimportant task of how to live and adapt to our new life in a foreign country.

On our last full day in Durshett we were finally given a reprieve from such trivialities as safe travel tips and cultural standards when we went on an early morning hike to a tribal village located on a nearby hill. While the rain of the Indian monsoon season continued to mount its case against the Pacific Northwest for most consistently depressing weather, we Alliance students were undeterred. Fortunately the rain rarely strengthened beyond a moderate drizzle, and as you'll see in the pictures (!) below, the scenery, both natural and man-made, proved more than sufficient in taking our minds off the weather.

(Sorry, slight delay in these pictures, but they'll be here soon!)

Only a few days later, after arriving in Pune and meeting up with my wonderful host family (Hi Gouri and Neelesh!), my roommates and I were taken on an another hike, this one much more rigorous than the first however. After driving about an hour or so outside the city (and into the wonderful realm of smog-free air), we arrived at the foot of a mountain who's Marathi name escapes me at the moment, but who's English translation literally means "Weird Mountain." And while I couldn't find any features of the mountain that were out of the ordinary, the hike itself was certainly unlike anything this desert-dweller had ever encountered before. For one thing, we had barely made it a quarter way up the mountain when the rain started hitting our face at what felt like 90° angles and the wind gusts ramped up to at least 40mph, completely negating any minute feelings of regret at having missed out on all the excitement of Hurricane Irene back in the states. To compound the unfortunate weather, the clouds descended such that we couldn't even get a sense of when we'd reach the top, since we could never really see more than 30ft above us, as seen in the pictures below. I have to be honest here and say that I did harbor some doubt as to whether or not we should continue, particularly when it felt like the wind didn't need to get much stronger to blow me off the side of the mountain all on its own. But the six of us marched onwards and upwards, taking in the radically changing landscape as it went from rocky and grass covered to lush and tropical in the matter of a few dozen meters or so. Not long after we observed this change in the environs, we ascended a particularly steep, stair-like part of the trail only to emerge in front of a large stone door that had seemingly grown right out of the face of the mountain. Behind the doorway stood a stone staircase that I momentarily thought might take me all the way up to heaven to meet God and Led Zeppelin. Needless to say, the payoff couldn't have been any greater and at this point I'll stop talking (typing?) and simply let the pictures speak for themselves! (Well after the meticulously crafted captions of course.)