My favorite childhood book was a 1950s, pre-Harry Potter fantasy called “Knight’s Castle.” A group of four children set up an imaginary battlefield with toy soldiers from the time of Ivanhoe. They don’t know that one of the tin soldiers has magic power, and in the middle of the night the children are transported through time to a dreamlike kingdom. Their playfield has come alive.
Welcome to Rishikesh, India! Laxman Jhula, to be precise.
December 2010, Green River, Vermont. I’m with my friend Craig in his comfortable old farmhouse, nestled in a picture-postcard setting. The kitchen windows look out on the gentle river and a covered wooden bridge. The place screams “Vermont!” like a cheesy advertisement from the Chamber of Commerce. He and I are having a fine visit. I am home.
February 2009, Rishikesh, India. It’s my third stay in four years at the cheap, funky, zero-star Hotel Ishan. I’m in my favorite room, overlooking the bustling Laxman Jhula footbridge that spans the Ganges. The sacred river sparkles below as the noisy jangle of townspeople and pilgrims rises up to my small porch. I love it here. It’s not my country, or my culture, and I’m home. Continue reading
It’s a slow, eerily quiet day in Nepal today. I’ve been here three weeks, and this has already included one day-long “bandha” (general strike) called by a coalition of the political parties, another several-day bandha called by the Maoist insurgents, and a daylong curfew imposed by royal decree. But today is the culmination of it all, the focus of the recent upsurge in unrest, tension, and (so one reads about in the strange English-language press) violence:… Continue reading