India and Indian people strive to simplicity. Actually they never resigned from it. And it is beautiful. They are not looking for another, better conveniences or solutions. They use simple methods and they achieve the intended effect. It concerns any kind of prosaic activities, which in Europe became issues worth great money, better machines and new, made-up norms. A hairdresser or barber here, in order to be able to do their work needs a chair, a razor and a mirror, which is often hung on a tree, unless it is already taken by another businesman. A shoemaker needs a piece of sidewalk, a piece of inner tube he will use to make a new sole or to repair the old one, laces and glue. So few things, and it is all so sensible. None of those people need an office, confirmation of qualification or a pile of papers. What confirms their quality is the demand for them. And there is surely a lot of them and each one is doing something. And if he is not doing anything, he is not rushing anywhere. What a benefit. Instead of buing something new, you repair the old. It's like a new, but still comfy like the old one! Today, before we finally left Nepal I ran into two very smart boys. One of them took a long time before he asked for something children love the most – chocolate. Eventually he choked out a question where I was from. When I said I was from Poland he asked quietly: Is there chocolate in your country? Such an intelligent one. He reminded me it is always better than standing behind the fence of the neighbour's granny hoping for some sweets and others things like that. By the way, I usually got what I waited for – so it's worth trying.
Going down a twisting but not so uneven road we arrived at a really mistical place. Darjeeling. It is an unique place, because it's the place where they made a great step toward facilitating the life of citizens simultaneously infuencing the development of whole rail transport. It all took place in 1881 and it concerned building and opening the first railway line between Siliguri and Darjiling in Himalayas. The line has 86 kilometers. You can go by this rail line even today, touching history as old as British reign over this place. Of course there was no way – we had to travel there as well. And holding happily the tickets we saw a striking similarity to the Locomotive from Tuwim's poem – steam, whistle, zing, moving wheels, fat oil and so on. I got used to the thought that you can't put everything on paper. Because when I'm sitting in a small house, with a small, half open window, sunshine is falling through that window. There is a small red table in front of me, a notebook, pen and a full head and I'd love everybody to feel what I'm feeling now. I'd love to give insight into how it is to be able to do everything! Darjeeling is misty for us and as you can guess – not only the railway line is the attraction here, because next in the “line” are tea fields. Stretching plantation that look wonderful in the mist. Green, luscious slopes covered with tea bushes and that serenity – so dissimilar to India. Calmness in the faces of those who check the tea leaf after leaf, and when some or other turns out to be mature enough – they pick it. We have combines, machines, technologies, and here they have a man who doesn't rush at all.
When I ate MO-MO – little pierogi with cabbage stuffing – I was charmed again. It means they were served on two, desiccated leaves formed into shape of a plate. Isn't it brilliant?!? It's so simple, so ECO, so functional! Many things look like that here – booths are so colorful and fresh, that I keep thinking how I can take all these herbs home. Sometimes a seller offers only ginger and limes, and sometimes the booth is full of chili, green leaves of coriander, carrots, cauliflower – the view and the smell is stunning.
I'm starting to be able to overcome nervousness and I'm flooded with calmness when for instance there is no Internet in an internet cafe. It becomes a cafe, but without coffee. Normally you could get nervous, but when you look at the others you start feeling stupid, because for them there is nothing strange in it, and no one even blinks. So I'm trying not to blink too. Today ended on a frontmost part of a bluff, enfolded by wind I looked at tea fields bathed in the light of sunset. Gentle smell wafted in the air. I wish such evenings to all of you, frequently.
- End of the road
- My Indian Family
- Phantom town - Khajuraho
- Tea variation
- Women like the flowers
- I sat by the Ganges
- Evening - trekking outfit
- At 5 am
- No route to Leh
- Paper conflict – Jaipur
- One rupee
- Marija from the desert
- I feel like a king – a bit dirty, but still a king!
- The very disorganized expedition