Friday, January 10, 2014

Attempting Adam

Everyone’s asking me how it was, so I thought I’d write about it. Let me take you step by step through the journey, from inside my head. It’s kinda creepy and you’re in for the biggest bitching of your life, mark my words. Pay close attention to the do and don’ts that I’ve very sneakily embedded in this seemingly endless ranting as a form of getting you to read it. :D  

It’s not every day I decide to climb a mountain that’s 7000 ft (7353 f to be exact) in the air. But when I do, I have to pick the most difficult, strenuous, misty, tropical, sacred, breathtaking, confused peaks of all time. I say confused only because - if I were to put myself in its shoes (as I usually do with situations to try and see it in theirperspective), I’d be one confused individual of a mountain. Sri Pada (Sacred footprint left by the Buddha) by the Buddhists, Adam’s Peak (Adam first set foot on earth after being cast out of heaven) by the Christians and Muslims and Shiva padam by the Hindus, samanala kanda (because that’s where butterflies go to die). Known by so many different names, it’s only natural that any mountain would get confused.  A bit like our former pet cat – he was called by two different names (can’t remember which two) by my mother and uncle that it eventually developed bipolar disorder and seldom got confused and walked aimlessly into walls and sofas etc. *self-debate – Nadeesha one – dude, quit yapping. this note is not about Ginger aka something else, this is about adam’s peak. Nadeesha two – Why, Yes, thank you Johnson.*  

During the season, close to 400,000 people visit this.  For the duration of this narration, I will call it Adam’s Peak. It’s catchy and matches my title. Basically, each religion claims dibs on whose foot print it. I’d like to think that everyone, Lord Buddha, Adam and Lord Shiva visited it. The beauty, romance and faith of the mountain itself lie in these believes. Faith is what this mountain is all about. Everyone who climbs it relies upon, discover and value during before and after conquering it. You’ll soon see why I got all philosophical about it. 

Here I am, days after and let me tell you what I feel. No wait. Let’s rewind a little and go to the very beginning. (I’ll cut to the chase and get to where we begin the actual mountain climb and not how we get from Colombo to Hatton – cuz that’s pretty mainstream) 

Day 1 –

23rd December 10:55 p.m. Hatton. Availability of usable loos - no.

We leave our friend’s place in Hatton roughly at about this time. We’d had dinner but not a lot of water because the combination of water in your system and chilly weather are not the best combination in which you want to attempt a 6 km long mountain hike with minimum to no toilet facilities. (Keeping in mind that we haven’t had much water throughout the day –owning to the potential risk of having to go to the loo when there isn’t any available. The typical trip mentality, you know. Gedara wage newei when you’re out, you might not “get to go when you gotta go”)  It was a lovely chilly walk towards the Hatton Station from which the bus to Nallathanniya (base of the mountain) took off. The station informs us that the bus will only leave once the train gets to the station with people to go to nallathanniya. So we wait. There is a train due at 11:55 p.m. We hop in the bus and we wait. We can’t just sit and wait without the risk of freezing over, so we gotta chat and make jokes and poke each other to stop ourselves from sleeping and freezing over. 

Let me tell you what it is like to wait in the cold. Waiting is one thing I can’t do. Yet alone waiting in the cold and that too inside a giant tin container with some manly “pilgrimage” hooligans with the local loose tongue.  

So while I was waiting inside the bus, my aunt was sleeping, my brother, yodi (my friend) , cousin Hiran and his friend and his brother (so that’s all 6 youngsters and my aunt), were out and about blowing out steamy breaths “like in the movies”, I was contemplating about my bowel movements, and calculating the hours for when I can next proceed with a decent pee. The thing about these trips that always unnerve me is not the fact that there are dodgy loos. No siree, unlike most people, I do not mind dodgy smelly, unflushable, dark, creepy loos where there are spiders, [1]- I’m usually glad they atleast have a dodgy loo- as opposed to a lid less commode, commode less lids, or even ducking away behind a tree or some such given enough toilet paper or a non poisonous leaf. It’s the fact that men don’t have an issue with it. They have this whole hithuwa - kara (think – do) scenario working out for them which I think is a flaw in god’s plan. I mean, come on, I had to force myself to drink the minimum level of water almost close to two days so that I can prepare my body for the ultimate drought where as ‘those with the hose’ can just aim and shoot whenever the mood strikes them?!?  (not that they actually just aim and shoot but at least they have good aim so that it goes in the place its meant to go and not dribbling down your legs– ladies, quit giggling, it’s true. you know what I’m talking about. Gentlemen, perhaps that was too much information for you to comprehend so just let it go) 


 

















We hang about in the night air, making faces at the mist and poking each other to keep our warmth on till the train finally arrived at about 2 30 a.m. and we were shipped off towards the base of the mountains. I fell asleep during the bus ride –one of those groggy sleeps where you are half awake and know what’s going on but still asleep -  and woke up a headache, frozen ears and nose. The stupid shutter had been literally blown open and my head had been banging against that little gadgetry thing that pries it open - the one which is usually sealed shut in Colombo at 12 o clock under the burning sun light and inside a steamy human fested bus, yes that one – Also some idiot guy’s bag which was on the those bus shelves kept falling on the dudes’ seated in front of us because the bus was going knight rider fast and in those crazy S curved hilly roads. I took it from him –politely – so that it won’t fall on our heads next, and crack our skulls before we even got to the bloody mountain. *imagine the irony of that*

Sigh, so anyway, apart from all that drama, we finally got to nallathanniya in one piece.



Day 2 –

24th December 3 ish in the morning. Nallathanniya. Availability of usable loos - yes. *yei*

 We start hiking. We see all these shops on either side of the road selling stuff. Which was pretty cool because I though “wow, such determined business minds they got around here to be opening shops throughout the night and then again in the morning” but apparently these are seasonal shops meaning they are only open during sri pada season i.e. for six months. Also be aware of the price tags. They increase with altitude, i.e. a bottle of soda that is 30 Rs at the bottom is 90 Rs at the top which I thought was pretty cool and fair since jeez, I’d opt a bottle at 3000 Rs had I been asked to carry it all the way up there.  Note – there is food available up there but not edibles like rice. I saw roti and biscuits and soda bottles and stuff but no rice and curry. 

The lady by the lamp



See the yellow colour? Such an inviting and exciting color


Starting the hike
So we start climbing. Me and yodi are not allowed to take pictures by our nade gura aka the trip director aka my cousin Hiran because that will kill time. It’s now about 3 in the morning and we kinda gotta run up the mountain if we gotta catch the sun rise – which is basically the entire point of it all. It’s called an ‘Ira sewaya’ and is an optical illusion of sorts where at sunrise, the sun will seem as though it is dipping in the sky in a form of worshipping to the sacred foot print. *again, pretty damn cool* 

Meanwhile, few things I advise that you not do 

The monthly flower 

Climbing the mountain is one thing. Climbing it when you’re on your periods is another thing. Climbing it with loose bowels is a completely different ball game. Let’s just say that some of us were doing either one or two of those two. Ladies, please please try to avoid your period when you’re climbing it because ….well, you’ll know why if you do. *imagine what you go through when you’re safely at home/ in your office, ease access of loos and pads and brufen/panadine and shit. now multiply it by an elevation of 7000 ft above sea level. Also add to it that you can’t cuss up there. Because if you do, you are under the wrath of God Saman* But if you do, climb it on your period, please let me know, so that I can add you to my list of super women. And I will shower you with hugs and ice cream and chocolates, because by god, you deserve to receive such a pampering. 


Cussing 

Something that you need to know about cussing while you’re up there, if you do you get cursed. It’s as textbook simple as that. I was warned by many different aunties and grandmothers and everyone else before but honestly, when I was descending I was cursing every Tom, Dick, Harry and Banda under the sun. i.e. myself mostly. And there was even a point where I wanted to warn the people who were on their way up, to not go. Because I didn’t want them to go through the agony I was going through. Which I think is considered blasphemy, no really. If you stop someone else from climbing the goddamn thing, it is considered blasphemy. 

Several acts of blasphemy has been carried out by me. Saying bloody too many times is one. Naming the title “attempting Adam” is another. You are welcome to count the number of times I have had bad thoughts through out the journey and the article if you like and perhaps you can feel better about yourself, maybe. That'd be considered blasphemy too, I bet. But hey, I say nice stuff about the journey too.
  


To be continued ……


[1] The loo in the station had bats hanging down it. Upgrading from spiders to bats was just a little too much so I didn’t attempt it.

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