Here is a picture of what I look like after riding for 2 days. It's the last day I'll wear this Pink Floyd concert shirt because it's threadbare and ripped, "nothing lasts forever" goes the lyrics of a PF song. I got it in 1994 when I saw them with my friend Bill in Denver.
About the ride: Day 1 I left at noon, rode 9 hrs and slept under the stars. Day 2 I started before dawn crossed the border and 16 hours later made my destination to be rewarded with a hot shower. Riding is easy, I am focused and alert. The world plays out before me like a movie. Beautiful mountains and agricultural scenes, a cast of characters to big to list. Children, lots of children, some in uniform going to school, others working in fields, they will never go to school. And scenes like this-
Start from the bottom, it is my motorcycle and all my worldly possessions, I have a tandem and solo glider with harnesses, both new modern gliders in excellent condition. I have a computer, 2 camera's, 2 GPSs, 2 Varios, 2 Radios, clothes, books, food, sleeping bag and pad ect., ect. Higher in the picture is a large pile of burning trash, next to the pile of burning trash is a small boy, apparently his life consists of looking through this pile of burning trash for something of value.
Here he is, working the smoky edge and finding what is revealed when the plastic burns away. Is he finding something valuable or just playing with the fire? Can we even contemplate his life? The wind shifts and I'm now in the smoke, its acrid and within a moment makes me nauseous. For seven years I worked in smokey dusty conditions as a forest firefighter but wood smoke doesn't compare to this, I'm afraid if I stay even a moment I'll do permanent harm to my health. I get on my bike and start to leave.As I do I see the scale of the trash heap, it's the size of an American football field, there's maybe a dozen kids scattered around, beside is a shanty town where they live. A kite catches my eye, the kids have fashioned a kite and are playing with it in the middle of the field. The wind changes, the forms are obscured by smoke. I ride on.
To summarize, I've never been able to summarize my experience here. Riding across India is like a reset button for life, whatever personal problems I'm caught up in take on a different perspective. I am shocked, I am in awe. I struggle not to judge, to keep my eyes open, keep trying to observe. What problems did I think I had a minute ago? How is it that I am this lucky, that I have so much, and others live a life I can't comprehend?
4 comments:
I can't believe that your duffle bag is still functional.
that was really nice to read. Makes me miss india...but soon enough I will be back x
that was really nice to read. Makes me miss india...but soon enough I will be back x
Hey sarah you remember that green pack! I bought it in 98 for my first trip abroad to visit my dad in Malawi, have used it on every travel trip since so of course you'd remember it. It's these little bits of fabric and the memories with them that give my life cohesion.
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