Kashmir

Ive been in India for a little over two months now and im starting to feel like this trip really belongs to me! I had this discussion with my friend Oleek last night after we arrived in Kargil, me on my motorbike and him with the rest of the crew in a jeep. He said he didnt feel like he "owned" his trip, or was in control of it, yet. Rather he feels like the trip belongs the group. I told him to get a motorcycle and get on with it damnit!

So where was I? After leaving Dharamshala, a wet and cloudy city with lots of heart as well as lots of Buddhists, Asher and I made the journey to Jammu, our stopping point on the way to Srinagar. Jammu is the first stop inside the state known as Jammu and Kashmir, the state which bore most of the damage ensuing from the turbulent but now temporarily peaceful relationship between India and Pakistan. Kargil actually saw heavy fire in 1999, and was in a state of war with Drass, a city about 100 kilometers East thru which I passed on the way to Kargil. As in Srinagar it's apparent that the people here are despondent and frustrated about the in-your-face military presence. There are barriers every half mile that cause unbearable traffic jams. Fortunately I pass thru these in relative ease with my enfield.

The way to Jammu was not the jaw-dropping scenic experience of the roads leading Rishikish and Shimla. The roads were well paved and straight, but since we left at noon we struggled through heavy traffic, by which I mean lines of big colorful trucks emitting the most noxious diesel fumes. The smoke is black and thick and the only benefit is that when its cold you can coast up the side of the truck and bath in the warmth of the toxic cloud.

We did stop and drink Chai near Jammu where a group of teens were standing around doing the usual: starring at us. One of them was bold enough to approach me and ask "how can I go to america?" to which I responded: "study computers, or math, or physics." The boy, about 15, told me he studies hard in school and is hoping to go live in America one day. I gave him my email for correspondence and advice, and he told me he'd write me, once he had the chance to use the internet, which he'd never done.

We arrived in Jammu in the evening and darkness descended on the unfriendly city before we had a chance to find a guesthouse. Eventually, exhausted, we located a couple of dingy hotels on a main road costing about 150 ruppees per night (Asher insisted on the cheapest accomodation) with a shared bathroom and no windows. The clerk wanted an additional 50 to watch the bikes but we told him we'd take our chances and went to sleep.

We left early in the morning, hoping to escape the city limits before the onset of heat and traffic. On the way to Srinagar the military presene increased dramatically. Long lines of military trucks carring Indian soldiers made their way to Srinagar along straight roads offering non-dramatic views. I lost Asher a few times on teh way but found him eventually. Close to Srinagar we suddently saw to our right a wide open valley covered with the greenest grass. We stopped for a break on the side of the road and Asher started rolling a joint. After a couple minutes we noticed a soldier with an M-16 (or something like that) approaching us. Asher hid the joint under his leg and offered the soldier a cigarette. He looked at us blankly, asked from where we were from (to which I usually say Yugoslavia which is funny because Yugoslavia doesnt exist anymore), accepted the cigarette and walked off.

The moment we entered Srinagar, a large bleak Muslim city, we were accosted by men on motorbikes imploring us to just "come look, come look" at their beautiful guesthouses. Seasoned by experience and also the info in the Lonely Planet guidebook, which warns of slimy houseboat conartists, we decided to do best to find our friends who had arrived a day earlier from Dharamshala. We didnt find them for two days because Asher lost the phone number and the name of the place. Instead we stayed for a couple nights in the staff room of an expensive houseboat with a man named Maza and dog named Akbar.