india A Tufts Student Publication
Letter from the editor If you read Tufts Traveler last year you have probably noticed that this issue, our first of the semester, looks quite different. My goal for the semester was to publish the entire issue in color, and thanks to an exceptionally talented and knowledgeable staff we have made it a reality. This issue has more color photos including photo spreads by some of our extremely talented contributing photographers, as well as photos submitted by contributing writers. Photos are a key part of any travel experience and for most people including myself, impromptu snapshots and 30 pictures of the same sunset are a much more common result of a trip than a well written 800 word article detailing all of the funny yet touching anecdotes of my trip. Photos are a great way to share memories and experiences with others and when combined with an article, allow readers to totally immerse themselves in another culture and forget about the freezing Somer-ford weather. So go ahead and read on. From everyone on the staff, we hope you enjoy the new Tufts Traveler Magazine and as always, happy travels. Marianna Bender
editor-in-chief • marianna bender • managing editors • ellen aiken • samuel lee • production manager • robbie gottlieb • photo editors • swapna maruri • gabe sherman • webmaster • greg scott • staff writers • caroline diczok • ally gimbel • emma hanson • jamie levitt • nick malouta • laina rosebrock • rebecca weinstein • contributing writers • emily de armas • austin lines • contributing photographers • meena bolourchi • tim fitzsimons • robbie gottlieb • andrea shadick 2
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cover photo by Swapna Maruri, photo this page by Meena Bolourchi
Contents Q&A
4-5
Samuel Lee
Indian Eats
6-7
Rebecca Weinstein
Free Ride
8-9
Austin Lines
Spectacle Island
10-11
Ally Gimbel
National Treasures
16-17
Swapna Maruri
Altitude Sickness in Ladakh
18
Nick Malouta
Another side of India
19
Tim Fitzsimons
20-21
Emma Hansen
Triptych: Art Biennale 2007
22
Robbie Gottlieb
Finding Darwin
23
Emily de Armas
Bonaire
24
Gabe Sherman
FOCUS
25-27
The Hills Are Alive
Meena Bolourchi 3
Q & I am always stuck in an airport. What can I do to pass time? Delays are unfortunately expected nowadays. Waiting is inevitable. For those who don’t have access to a fancy first class waiting rooms, filled with complimentary snacks, drinks, comfy couches, and entertainment, the airport can be a daunting place. So the next time you hear the dreaded announcement that your flight has been delayed, here are a few ideas to pass the time: • The airport is an arena for diversity. This is perhaps one of the best times to people watch; an opportunity to witness a myriad of people from different cultures, each with a different story to tell. So grab your coffee, sit in a café, and watch the interactions and the behaviors of the people around you. • Depending on the airport, you can find art on display and modern decors, often ignored because of the naturally hectic environment. With a few hours to spare, this is the perfect chance to explore the busy terminal. Look for these hidden treasures and time will pass quickly. • Read through your passport. Often ignored as a simple official document, the passport also acts as a window to your past journeys. Reminisce about that trip to Tokyo or Toronto. While they are not pictures, the government stamps marked permanently on your passport can evoke many memories. The airport may not be as boring as you may think. Be adventurous, different, and maybe you will find that your delay wasn’t as bad as you anticipated.
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How do I haggle? Shopping is always fun in a different country. Apart from the excitement derived from exploring the labyrinth of small food vendors and souvenir stands, immersing ourselves into the everyday life of the locals, we also find great thrill in the act of haggling. So here are a few suggestions: • Don’t be afraid to haggle. You will not be labeled as “cheap” and in some places, haggling is even expected. It can be an intimidating experience, but you will soon swear by it. • Be nice. Those who are friendliest to the vendors tend to get the best price. Have a quick conversation -- be interested in their home country, their culture and their language. Ask the vendor for local shopping tips or destinations. Being friendly will go a long way and may even put some extra change in your pocket. • Be reasonable. Always start with half the price. If you are too outrageous, you risk rejection. • Study the surrounding vendors well. Bringing up a rival’s price may help you reduce the amount that you have to pay. It is a competitive market, so use that to your advantage. • Walk away! Walking away from the vendor may lead to a further reduction in prices if the vendor is desperate for your patronage. These are just a few tips that we have found useful. Remember, haggling etiquette is different in every culture. Familiarize yourself with the trends, explore new methods, and you are on your way to becoming an expert haggler.
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& A What are the best ways to travel in Europe? There are two major ways to travel throughout Europe: by plane and by train. Plane: There are several cheap inter-European airlines, such as Ryanair, easyJet, and SkyEurope. However, the immediate cost of the plane tickets does not include taxes, fees, and extra charges. For example, passengers will be charged for additional carry-on luggage and basic services that most larger airlines usually provide. These low-cost airlines tend to fly to smaller, out-ofthe-way airports that may cause higher transportation fees. Everyone knows Heathrow, but where is Luton? Moreover, if you expect the services of British Airways, be prepared to be disappointed. Airlines, especially Ryanair, provide minimal services. However, airlines are generally reliable and ideal for a student budget. An excellent website for cheap airfare is whichbudget.com. It quickly searches 115 airlines for the cheapest routes within 124 countries. Train: The railway system in Europe is amazingly fast and efficient, but prices can be expensive. Go to Rail Europe (www.raileurope.com) or STA Trval (www. statravel.com) to review the different options that each pass offers. They range from $200 for the individual country pass, which allows travel within one country for a given period to the Global Pass, which for almost $2000 allows three months of unlimited travel within 18 European countries.
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What travel documents do I need if I want to go to Canada? Canada is always an awesome travel location for those short 3-day weekends. Montreal is only a mere five hours away by car, while Toronto is nine hours away. However, for such a seemingly simple trip, plans are always complicated by confusing and unclear governmental traveling policies. So in order to prevent you from wasting several hours driving to the Canadian border, only to be forced to drive back to Boston, here ‘s what you need to know: As of October 2007, anyone traveling by air between the United States and Canada will need a passport to enter the United States. Only a government issued photo-ID and proof of citizenship, such as a driver ’s license and a birth certificate respectively, are needed for travel by land and sea. However, with the full implementation of the Western Hemisphere Travel Initiative (WHTI) in the summer of 2008, a passport will be required for all travel between the United States and Canada. Also accepted will be travel documents such as SENTRI, NEXUS, and FAST. For the most up-to-date information about travel requirements, refer to http://www.travel. state.gov/travel/cbpmc/cbpmc_2223.html.
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INDIAN
E AT S
When winter hits Boston, it tends to hit hard. Luckily,Tufts students don’t have to travel far to find excellent, steamy, and spicy Indian food that is sure to warm you up from the inside out. COMPILED BY REBECCA WEINSTEIN
NAMASKAR
Just down the street from Diva, long southern-style Dosas are substantially better Namaskar is a formidable alternative for delicious and also three dollars less expensive. Other dishes and authentic Davis Square Indian cuisine. While worth trying include the Shahi Paneer (Indian style cheese baked in a mild tomato based Namaskar’s appearance is significantly sauce), which is a notable choice for less opulent than Diva, one merely NAMASKAR vegetarians, and no one can go wrong needs to observe the extensive menu 234 Elm Street with a korma, curry or vindaloo meat and smell the aromatic food to mark Somerville (617) 623-9911 dish. Although Namaskar’s most Namaskar as a solid choice for delicious distinguishing characteristic is that it is Indian dinning. The efficient seating often second fiddle to Diva, it provides and staff, quieter atmosphere, and close proximity to Tufts make Namaskar a great place to an enjoyable dinning experience with equally bring a small group of friends on a whim. Prices delectable – and slightly less expensive – food than and portions are comparable to Diva, but the foot its fancy neighbor down the street.
TAMARIND BAY
WinnerofBestofBoston2005andRestaurant and Indian spices and grilled in a tandoor clay oven) of the Year in 2004 by the Boston Phoenix, Tamarind was notably the most delicious and mouth-watering Bay hands down delivers the most vibrant spectacle dish of the meal. Despite the delicious food there are of spices and is exceptional in that all its a couple drawbacks to the restaurant, food is cooked to order (a rare occurrence including its small size and slightly TAMARIND BAY 75 Winthrop Street among many local Indian eateries). Both more expensive prices for less food. The Cambridge the Rohan Josh (Kashmiri style goat meat quiet setting is probably best suited for (617) 491-4552 cooked in fennel and coriander) and a special evening with one or two close the Shahi naan (Indian pita bread with friends. eclectic, but delicious accents of coconut, almond Even though India may be halfway and pistachio) exhibit Tamarind Bay’s exceptional around the world, Tufts students do not have use of flavors to enhance their food. The Tandoori to look far to experience some of India’s vibrant batana (baby potatoes stuffed with Indian cheese culture through its flavorful cuisine. 6
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DIVA
In lieu of recent controversy, the student body is split between loyal Diva attendees and those who refuse to set foot in the restaurant. However, continual praise by DIVA INDIAN Tufts’ many Diva BISTRO devotees should be 246 Elm St sufficient evidence to Somerville try Diva for yourself. (617) 629-4963 The décor of the restaurant is possibly one of its most distinguishable features and provides for a very trendy and enjoyable setting. The glass-enclosed kitchen and the bustling atmosphere make Diva a great place for small groups of friends on the weekends. The colorful and bright setting is equally ideal for a first date – there is no lack of interesting décor or people to make conversation about if all else fails. The prices are also relatively reasonable, especially considering the portion size. Expect to spend about 20 dollars per person for dinner, but many of the dishes could easily be split in half and still be very filling. While favorites, such as chicken tikka massala, are found on the menu, Diva’s greatest achievement
is its modern presentation of traditional Indian dishes. I found the Lamb Dosa (and long thin Indian crepe) to be a tad bland, but would highly recommend the Tandoori Chicken (traditional of Northern Indian/ Punjabi cooking) or the mango lassi (a mango, yogurt shake) as an alcohol free complement to the spiciness of the food. While the waiters were not extremely knowledgeable about the cuisine and the service was very rushed, the lack of attentiveness did not greatly diminish my enjoyment of my dinning experience. Personal politics aside, Diva delivers fine Indian food, in a trendy setting, for a relatively reasonable price, not to mention… it’s really close by. 7
F R
R I A L
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S T I N E
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It is universally accepted among college students that “free” always beats “not free” and an adventure always beats monotony. However, many students believe that an exciting escapade must take place in a far-away nation or in an unexplored region of the world inhabited by people speaking a foreign dialect. Students today don’t even entertain the idea of a free adventure. Thrilling journeys need not cost anything if you simply look locally and seize opportunities as they present themselves. One day I received an e-mail from a friend from high school that informed me of a local volunteer position. The next thing I knew, I was standing on an island in the Boston Harbor dodging poisonous spines as shark blood dripped from my hands. The island is known as Georges Island and I was volunteering at the third annual Boston Harbor Islands Regatta. Leaving from the wharf at approximately 11 a.m. on a full ferry (free for the volunteers), my friend Rosie and I realized that we had absolutely no idea what to expect from our adventure. We signed up to volunteer online, knowing only that it was a regatta, and had received only one e-mail telling us where we could meet the ferry. Besides that, anything was fair game. Upon arrival, we were assigned our posts and given free t-shirts. Rosie was assigned to collect tickets for lunch and I was sent to help teach kids how to fish. For the next three hours, I worked on the docks, baiting
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hooks, helping the kids cast. I even made a few catches of my own. My hands were caked with blood and guts, even after rinsing several times in the frigid water. As the sharks, flounders, sea bass, lobsters, and crabs gradually accumulated on the dock, so did the smiles on the children’s faces. Meanwhile, sailboats glided around the island in a beautiful display of the wind’s power, harnessed by the gorgeous white sails. After our shifts finished and we both took advantage of a free lunch, we began exploring the island. Being a relatively small island of only 39 acres, it would be somewhat uninteresting if it weren’t for the giant fort in the center. Entering through a door in the wall, we thought it was just a small building. However, we soon found ourselves in the giant courtyard of Fort Warren, built from 1833 to 1861 during the American Civil War. Stairs led up to the top of the wall, which led us to a giant tower. From there we spotted a series of rooms below us, which led to even larger rooms, leading to dark and mysterious tunnels, leading us to find… Well, you’ll just have to find out for yourself. If you would like to visit any of the Boston Harbor Islands, go to www.bostonislands.com and check out when and where the next events are being held, the times that the ferry runs, and the different types of tours you can take. I highly recommend this as one of your many adventures in college. It’s local, cheap, and fantastical.
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SPECTACLE ISLAND ALLY GIMBEL When you think of an island, what comes to mind? A sprawling beach, speckled with washed up shells and pieces of sea glass, surrounded by lush vegetation and gorgeous views? Calm waves lapping onto the shore, the salty ocean water rushing around your legs? Do you picture yourself on an island anywhere in the vicinity of Boston? How about an island that sits on an 80-foot high pile of trash? Believe it or not, such a place really does exist. Spectacle Island, one of the 34 islands that make up the Boston Harbor Islands National Park Area, sits just 4.2 miles east of the city, towering over the other harbor islands, elevated by a stage of garbage. Though mostly renowned for its nearly 100-year stint as a waste disposal, the island has a very colorful history. Before the city of Boston closed the dump in 1959, Spectacle Island functioned as a quarantine hospital for immigrants entering Boston, a recreational hotspot, a horse-rendering factory, and a home to many Boston families. Early American colonists named it because its shape—two small hills connected by a tiny strip of land—reminded them of a pair of eyeglass spectacles. Any visitor to the island today would probably find this name amusing, not only because the topography has changed drastically since then, but also because of Spectacle’s spectacular views of Boston and the harbor. In 2006, after undergoing a five-year, $180 million restoration project, Spectacle Island was reopened to the public.
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Now flaunting a lifeguarded swimming beach, five miles of walking trails, a marina, a visitor’s center, a restaurant, and panoramic views of Boston Harbor and the surrounding islands, Spectacle Island is no dump anymore. I decided to visit the island one weekend in September, just before the season ended and the Harbor Islands Express ferry stopped its service for the winter months. My trusted Boston adventure buddy, Scott, came with me. We were mostly excited about riding the ferry out of Boston harbor, a must-do for a typical Boston tourist. Since we’d already seen most of the city from land, we were anxious to see what the skyline looked like from water. The ferry departed at 2 p.m. out of Long Wharf, but we got there a little early to explore the surroundings. We took a walk around the wharf, checked out the multitude of yachts and sailboats, and sat for a while under the vine-covered awnings in Christopher Columbus Park. After grabbing a quick cup of coffee in the harborside Long Wharf Marriott, we boarded the ferry and set off on our spectacular Spectacle Island adventure. Sailing out of the Boston harbor was a thrilling experience. Watching as the Boston skyline shrank away from view, Scott and I left all our troubles behind us and sailed on towards new and uncharted territory. As we approached the two grassy hills that make up Spectacle, we leaned over the railing of the boat like eager little kids, pointing at the island in front of us, shouting “land ho!” After a fifteen minute, stress-releasing ferry ride,
Scott and I stepped onto Spectacle’s new marina, hosting a long boardwalk with benches and 38 boat slips where private boaters can dock for the day or overnight. Because we came late in the season on a Friday, there were hardly any people there. But, as one of the ferry workers told me, the island is brimming with visitors during the summer months. Scott was in charge of navigating the trails, but we quickly learned that we didn’t really need a map or island brochure (both of which we picked up at the ferry ticket booth) to get around on our own. The entire land portion of the island is a mere 85 acres and the trail was wide and paved with gravel. So we ditched the map and opted for a leisurely stroll along the circling path that wound up to the top of the north drumlin. From the mid 1800s to the early 1900s, this drumlin was home to The Ward Rendering Factory where barges filled with horse carcasses would be made into hides, glue, and leather softener. In 1912, the city of Boston set up a waste disposal facility next to Ward’s, thus beginning the generation of Spectacle’s use as a garbage dump. In 1959, when pollution on the island started to get out of control, the city shut down the dump and the island remained an eyesore in the Boston harbor until the “Big Dig” came to Boston in 1992. During this project, 3.7 million cubic yards
tiny white sailboats cruised past. Over our shoulders, we could see as far north as Salem and as far south as the Blue Hills Reservation; the illustrious Boston skyline towering in the middle. However, sitting on this tiny deserted island, we felt worlds away. We spent the next hour following more trails through the island, stopping every once in a while to sit and relax on a bench or under a gazebo and take in the breathtaking panoramic view, or to let a pair of pale yellow butterflies cross our path. Pretty soon, we had exhausted the trails on land, and Scott decided it was time to hit the sandy beach. After I poorly navigated a shortcut along the rocky man-made retaining wall on the southeastern shore, we finally stumbled onto the sea glass and shell laden beach. Once again channeling that inner-child, I shamelessly began to stuff some of the biggest chunks of sea glass I had ever seen into my bag and Scott chased after hoards of resting seagulls, sending them into a chaotic flight over the bay. Once my bag got heavy and no more seagulls remained for Scott to spook, we decided to check out the new “green” visitor’s center. Located in between the two drumlins, the visitor center boasts museumesque displays of the island’s history, public bathrooms, and a café that serves burgers, hot dogs, and of course, “chowdah.” It is powered by photovoltaic solar
of excavated earth were transported to Spectacle, covering the landfill with over 60 feet of dirt over the span of five years. Today, the north drumlin rises 157 feet above sea level, the highest point of any of the Boston Harbor Islands. After Scott and I finally made our way to the top, we collapsed onto the grass, trying not to think about the ancient horse carcasses rotting some feet below us. But despite the creepiness of Spectacle’s history, the views from the north drumlin were magnificent. We sat facing the Massachusetts Bay, staring out into the expanse of blue ocean. To our left, planes flew in and out of Logan Airport and dozens of
panels installed on the roof. Also, the bathrooms use waterless composting toilets, and the planters located outside the visitor center are irrigated with recycled water from the kitchen to further conserve energy and emphasize the theme of renewal on the island. Scott and I spent our last 10 minutes on the island sitting in the rocking chairs outside the visitor’s center, reflecting on our new experience. Even though we left campus that morning with a mile-long to-do list, at that moment, we could not recall any papers, problem sets, or study-abroad applications. It was as though Spectacle Island buried our troubles with the rest of Boston’s junk under 60 feet of recycled dirt.
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photo by Andrea Shadick
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INDIA
With over 900 films in 23 different languages every year and combined grossings of
FACTS & FIGURES
more than US $850 million,
BOLLYWOOD has exceeded Hollywood as a film industry.
With a population of 1.12 Billion, India
2
nd most
populous
country
is the
in the world.
The national fruit of India is the
Monsoon season in the city of Mumbai is from June to October.
mango. The word
curry
is derived from the Tamil word kari (black pepper).
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things to do in
Mumbai
1. Explore the Kamala Nehru Park and the Hanging Gardens, on top of Malabar Hill, for jaw-dropping vistas and panoramic views of the city. 2. Descend into history.Visit Elephanta Island (only a ferry ride away from Mumbai), which is home to the World Heratige Site Elephanta cave temples, renown for the numerous religious Hindi images, carvings, and a myriad of wall panels depicting the mythology of Shiva. 3. Take a break from your travels and get a glimpse of the unfortunate reality by visiting the Dharavi slum in Mumbai. Gone are the sandy beaches, the loud club music, and the spiritual aesthetics with which you may have surrounded yourself. Seeing these inhabitants, almost 90% of who live under $2 a day, may be one of the most life-changing experiences you will have in India.
L ea r n H i n d i Hi!
नमस्त
Goodbye
अल्विदा
Bon apetit
स्वादिष्ट खाना
I don’t understand Would you like to dance with me?
Namastey! Alvida Svadist khana
मैं समझ नहीं पा रहा हू।ँ
Maim samajh nahm pa raha hum (male)
क्या आप मेरे साथ नाचना पसंद करेग ं ी?
Kya ap mere sath nacna pasand karengi
I love you (said by men)
मैं तुमह ् ं ै बहुत चाहता हुँ
Main tumhain bahut cahata hun
I love you (said by women)
मैं तुमसे बहुत चाहती ह
Main tumse bahut cahati hun
I missed you so much!
मुझे आपकी बहुत याद आयी।
Mujhey aapkee bahut yaad aaee
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National Treasures swapna maruri
I stepped off of my twenty-one hour flight to Hyderabad and was instantly greeted with a sticky wave of heat of about 100 degrees. This was my first time back to India since I was seven years old, but the temperature brought back a flood of memories. On my past visit, India meant lazing around my grandmother’s house in Vizag, eating Kaja sweets, and taking walks to the beach where I ran from the crashing waves of the Indian Ocean. This time, however, I felt urged to discover more about what India had to offer. The first half of my trip was spent in southern India. Southern India tends to be less crowded with tourists for a number of reasons. For one thing, India’s internationally famed and acclaimed Taj Mahal lies in the northern region of the country, attracting huge crowds of tourists. Yet, while many travel to the north, the south holds many hidden gems. The major cities include Hyderabad, Bangalore, and Chennai (formerly known as Madras). Within each city is a fun nightlife bustling with restaurants and bars. But the most outstanding forms of tourism lie within the deep-seated religious and cultural history of a place more than 5,000 years old. Traveling a short distance outside of these cities offers a wide range of intriguing attractions. During my stay, I traveled two hours north of Vizag into the lush mountains of Aruku Valley, a tribal village in the state of Andhra Pradesh. The drive up the winding
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narrow roads was mostly scenic, but we watched tribal Indians cultivate the rolling mountains and valleys and occasionally passed by a village marketplace. Once we made it to our destination, with a few breaks on the way to let herds of cattle cross the road, we watched a traditional tribal dance show, visited a beautiful garden, and even practiced a traditional form of archery. Later, on our return to the city, we stopped at the Borra Caves. Over 3,000 years old, these immensely large caverns are amazing. I lost myself in its ancient history and the grandiose size of the cave. This kind of surreal excursion is commonplace on a trip to southern India. Southern India has villages near all of its major cities, such as Halibedu in Bangalore which houses ancient Hindu temples. Visitors can venture there to see hand carved stone edifices and gain an understanding of the area’s piety. The magnificence of these religious sanctuaries is only intensified by the time periods in which they were built. While in the state of Andhra Pradesh, I saw ancient Buddhist stupas dating back over 5,000 years. The architecture of the religious structures in these areas was awe-inspiring. India has more than 400 wildlife areas, including 24 tiger reserves. Many of these are located in southern India, in states like Tamil Nadu and Kerala. In my visit alone, I saw adorable Asian elephants and free roaming monkeys, traipsing down the road alongside common people. Right next to the mountainous green
area in which these animals live, there are also great beaches in places like Goa and Karnataka. As I boarded my flight for Delhi, I left behind the village children of Aruku whom I had befriended and headed for the national capital. My next week of gallivanting around northern India proved to be a much different yet fun experience. Delhi boasts the beautiful, modern architecture of its national government buildings, the Gate of India, and the creation of the eternal flame for Mahatma Gandhi. Representative of India’s more modern history stands the Indira Gandhi museum, a remodeled interior of her actual home that is filled with newspaper blowups of her political achievements as well as a glass construct of the walkway on which her bodyguards assassinated her in the 1970s. Yet, in high contrast to these new edifices that tell the tale of modern India, the historic structures from the Mughal dynasty and other reigning monarchies remain intact. In Delhi alone, there are 500-year-old temples and the Red Fort, heavily influenced by Islamic architecture during the Muslim reign. Soon after, I ventured out of the nation’s capital and away from the overly efficient metro and the bustle of the globalized shopping centers, and headed towards Agra to see the magnificent Taj Mahal. As I traveled, I noted the change in atmosphere; I had left the lush green southern India and was in the heart of a desert landscape, immersed in a slightly different culture. From the Agra Fort and its beautifully constructed mirrored walls, one can easily see the immense mausoleum. I approached the entrance to the Taj Mahal in a camel-driven buggy, with sweat dripping down my face from the brutal 130-degree weather. I had made it. I was sunburned for the first time in my life, but the pride and joy of India was finally before my eyes. There isn’t much to say eloquently about the Taj Mahal, other than that it’s amazing. With recent renovations to enhance the white marble, I felt as though it literally glowed in the hot sun. On either side of the building was a mosque or a housing unit for visitors of Shah Jahan to lounge. The Taj Mahal falls in line with many other historic sites in northern India where an Islamic influence can be seen through the architecture. To complete what Indians call the “Golden Triangle,” I left Agra and Delhi behind for the pink city of Jaipur. Jaipur is noted for its awesome craftsmanship and artisanship as well as its majestic palaces of the Maharajas. These palaces are architecturally complex, with built-in systems to preserve rainwater and drums built into the walls for the musical whims of the kings and queens. Apart from the buildings is the desert landscape over which they preside. Camel rides are a frequent tourist attraction and marble mining is a key resource of economic profit in the area. Artists are common there, whether carving marble statues or using the natural resources of the area to create
dyes for textiles. Tourists can even visit certain shops where the artists will show you the processes behind these intricate pieces. As I left India out of the hustle and bustle of the large and globalized city of Mumbai (formerly known as Bombay), I reminisced about the pervasiveness of my trip. I had traversed many different areas within India, touching upon the certain cultural and tourist norms. Still, what struck me most about the trip were not the differences between the vast areas, but the similarities. Though India’s excursions are beautiful, fun, and adventurous, it was driving through and stopping in the comparable villages and cities that seemed to be the highlight of my vacation. The children who run around without a care in the world or smiled sheepishly at the camera; the people within the villages (north or south) that do manual labor, the elderly basking in the sun on their porches; or the city folk who swarm the streets on their way to work in the morning are as iconic of a diverse India as the planned attractions that accompany any tourist’s trip.
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Altitude Sickness in Ladakh nick malouda
his summer, I went hiking through the Himalayan Plateau in Ladakh, an ancient Himalayan kingdom in the far north of India, on the edge of Kashmir. I was fascinated by Ladakh’s Tibetan-Buddhist culture and its unique art and architecture.
The scenery was some of the most spectacular and awe-inspiring that I have ever seen, with its rugged mountains, wide valleys, and rocky cliffs. Waterfalls fell upon walls of rock sculpted by millions of years of collisions between tectonic plates. But that’s not what this article is really about; this article is about altitude sickness. I flew into Leh airport from Delhi on June 16. The altitude of the Leh airport is the world’s highest, at over 13,000 feet. To put this into perspective, consider that the highest point in the continental U.S. is Mount Whitney in Colorado, which, at its summit, is 14,500 feet above sea level. At one point during the bus ride from Leh to Manali, I saw a sign declaring that we were passing over a mountain 19,000 feet in height. Of the tallest mountains in the world, all are in the Himalayan Plateau. On my first day in Leh, I didn’t feel any signs of sickness, either because my body had not yet realized it was at altitude yet, or simply because I may have been too tired from my journey to feel anything. The next day, after we hiked up to a mountain village, it hit me. I fell short of breath and my heart, which was pumping like a hummingbird’s, felt like a truck had parked on it. My legs felt weak and sore. The pills I brought from Hong Kong not only tasted like ear wax, but they didn’t work. The local remedy of yak butter and lemon-garlic tea worked a little better, but not well enough. I had no appetite, and until we descended the mountain, I could barely eat anything except for bland bread with rice and lentils. I woke up at some point in the middle of that night. I had to go to the bathroom because of all the tea I had been drinking. I stumbled outside in total darkness, feeling my way to the latrine. All of a sudden, I coughed and a tightening sensation gripped my entire body. I tried to throw up, even though I hadn’t been able to hold food down for almost two days. Our Nepalese guide, Prem, probably saved my life
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by checking my heart rate, insisting that I drink tea, and at times, and as much as it hurts my masculinity to admit, carrying my backpack in exchange for me carrying his much lighter one. I began to wonder if I had overestimated my abilities as a traveler and if I was really up to the challenge of this hike. I kept getting sick over the next few days, but the nausea gradually diminished as I got used to the thinner air. Now I know some of you are probably going to send me e-mails in response to this article and tell me how foolish I was for going into the Himalayas without any physical training, special equipment, or adequate medicine. And honestly, I think you would be right to do so. It’s just that, even though I grew up in Houston, Texas at heights only slightly above sea level, I never experienced altitude sickness during my travels in the mountains of Colorado, New Hampshire, or Western Canada. Altitude sickness aside, my time spent in Ladakh was the highlight of my trip to India, and I would definitely go back (even knowing that I would get sick). I’ve seen beautiful mountain vistas in Yellowstone, Alaska, and Colorado, but the mountains of North America pale in comparison to those of Ladakh. Not to mention that the food (what I could eat of it at least) was great; the monasteries and folk artwork were fascinating; and the people I met along the way, both locals and tourists, were unlike anyone I have ever met. Each was unique in his or her own way. However, when I go to Tibet next summer, I’ll research beforehand which altitude medications work the best and I’ll be sure to bring plenty.
A young man poses for a picture after boarding the third class sleeper train from Delhi as it passed through the railside slums in Bombay. The boy was collecting plastic bottles.
Another side of India p hot ogra p hs by
A man paddling his vegetables to the floating vegetable market in Dal Lake, Srinagar, Kashmir. Each morning, vegetables grown in the lake’s floating gardens are brought to the market, which attracts scores of vendors and interested viewers.
TIM F ITZS IM ONS
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The Hills Are Alive emma hanson
This past summer I was fortunate enough to participate in the Tufts in Talloires program. For those unfamiliar with this program, every summer approximately 80 students venture to the Tufts campus in the tiny village of Talloires (pronounced Tal-whar), nestled in the French Alps. By “campus” I mean a 1,000year-old priory with a total of four classrooms. By French Alps, I do in fact mean the French Alps. The priory is completely surrounded by the Alps. Around every corner—as our calves made sure we knew—there was a peak, a hill, a valley, and a view. The landscapes were truly breathtaking. They were what got me out of bed at 7 a.m. every Wednesday to go hiking, or faire de la randonée, as they say in Talloires. The Tufts program follows the French tradition of not having classes on Wednesdays, and uses that time to offer group hikes each week. The hikes are lead by an incredible French man by the name of Bernard. I have no idea what Bernard’s
but Bernard and those views never failed to make the experience worthwhile. As we climbed, I was sure that there was simply no way the views could get any more spectacular. Yet without fail, with every meter climbed they only got better. We hiked through and above the clouds; it seemed as if we were gazing through an airplane window. Only it was significantly better because our own two feet had brought us to that point. At the summit, we stopped and ate the lunches we made earlier that day in our host families’ kitchens. A baguette and cheese sandwich is good to start with, but try eating one with a view of Mont Blanc to one side and le Lac d’Annecy to the other. After four hours of hiking, that sandwich becomes something more like pure bliss. Add to that some French chocolate and Les Petits Beurres (butter cookies) that Professor Tracy Pearce never failed to provide for us, and it was truly a feast. Along the way, we frequently encountered other
last name is, or if he even has one for that matter. If he does have one, it’s superfluous. For Talloires students, he is a rock star, à la Madonna, Bono, and Cher. He spoke perfect English with a perfect British accent. His moustache made him look like a caricature. He wore shorts that were shorter than mine, and did not look at all ridiculous in them. This man is more than twice our age, and yet he could scale the mountain at twice our pace without even breaking a sweat. This mountain dexterity earned him the comparison to a mountain goat. His hearty laugh, unending enthusiasm, and complete knowledge of the French Alps made him the perfect leader for our hikes. There were certainly the days when I would step off the bus wondering why on earth I was awake so early,
hikers enjoying the day. Usually they were French, occasionally Swiss, and there was one American. Although everyone was always pleasant and said “Bonjour,” I always sensed that they were somewhat shocked to find twenty young, boisterous, Americans ascending the same mountain path. Even more prevalent on the mountain than hikers were cows, and we made friends with quite a few of them throughout our hiking adventures. We went through actual cow pastures on more than one occasion, so naturally we met a handful of these vaches. While the hikers we met were a bit taken aback by the loud mass of rapid English, the cows couldn’t have been less impressed. They noted our passing with a mere glance, and didn’t even bat an eyelash when we subjected them
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to photo-ops. Our presence was merely a blip on their radar screens. On one of our hikes we stumbled across a scene that can really only be described as “Discovery Channel: Live.” We came around a bend and immediately fell to a hush as 20 yards ahead of us we saw a pack of wild mountain goats. Two of the males were sparring and their large horns made cracking noises when they struck each other. We were careful to remain still, though as with the cows, the goats seemed to have only minimal interest in our presence. When the fight appeared to be finished, we all glanced at each other, unsure of what to do next. We had planned to walk where the goats stood, but we needn’t have worried. Bernard, being part mountain goat himself, simply wandered towards the pack, explained with a few hand gestures that we were not dangerous, we wanted to walk that way, and could they please move – or at least that is how I chose to interpret the exchange. The goats obliged and we continued on our hike. The wildlife we encountered was only one feature that made each hike unique—the terrain we covered also varied from location to location. On one hike we frolicked through meadows that could have easily been the filming location of The Sound of Music. On another, we eased our way down a mountainside of rocks and
consist of a day and a half of gorgeous, Bernard-style hiking, combined with dinner and a night’s rest at a Swiss chalet. The hike that I chose was dangerously beautiful. We hiked along a steep, narrow ridge, where it seemed that even the slightest trip to the right or a stumble to left would surely lead to imminent death. Yet somehow, this didn’t bother anyone, as the mere fact that Bernard was there made us all feel invincible. We each made it to the chalet in one piece and prepared to settle in for the evening. It was much colder than we expected, and we hurried to collect wood for a bonfire before the air turned even colder as the sun sank beneath the horizon. Each of us put on all the clothes we brought in our daypacks, which created an interesting array of outfits. A very welcoming man and woman made us a warm, comforting dinner, served with local wine. Soon after we finished, we gathered around the blazing bonfire and stayed there for hours, telling stories and watching the coals slowly burn down. Eventually we hunkered down for the night with wool blankets on cot-like mattresses in the loft of our chalet. There was no heat, and the mountain night-air was freezing. Any heat at all came from the nearly 20 bodies huddled closely in the small room. It was perfect. Even the rustic toilet added to the overall experience. The next morning, the same couple filled us with all the toast, coffee, and “chocolat chaud”
“We hiked through and above the clouds; it seemed as if we were gazing through an airplane window.” stones that resembled the elephant graveyard scene from Disney’s The Lion King. On yet a third, we used chains bored into the rock face to vertically climb trickier parts. There were times when I’d look out to see the beautiful contrast of the lake against the verdant green of the mountains with a white dusting of cloud on top. Then there were times when I’d be stunned to find myself staring into a grey, snowy abyss, and wonder why I was wearing shorts. Bernard knows the mountains like the back of his hand, and was able to bring us on hikes that were unique in their terrains and views, yet all equally beautiful. The Talloires students are also given the opportunity to go on one of two overnight hikes. The overnights
we could manage. They provided our sack lunches for the day and waved as we hiked away from camp. You can take summer classes anywhere. The Tufts in Talloires program is more than a chance to take care of a couple of credits—it’s a cultural and environmental experience. I knew going into the program that I wanted to take full advantage of my surroundings, and I am so glad that I did. Hiking in the French Alps was one of my favorite parts about being in Talloires, evidenced by the fact that half of my pictures are of mountains. I hope that everyone who decides to participate in the Talloires program will go on at least one hike with Bernard and take advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime experience. It is absolutely worth getting up early for every Wednesday. Ally-up!
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Robbie Gottlieb embarked on a ten day trip with his grandparents to Italy. During his brief stay, he visited Rome, Florence, and Venice, the latter being his favorite. Robbie captured the essence of the Art Biennale 2007 in this triptych of pieces from various artists represented there.
Photographs by Robbie Gottlieb
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Finding Darwin
emily de armas
You probably already know that the Galapagos Islands are a place unlike any other. It’s where Darwin developed the theory of natural selection, it is home to many species that live in a seemingly uninhabitable place, and it’s one of the most interesting ecosystems on the planet. To celebrate my grandfather’s 80th birthday, my entire family and I went on a cruise, touring these fascinating islands for a week. I’m not one for cruises. I usually feel trapped on the boat, somewhat overwhelmed, and always a little uneasy when asked to sing karaoke. But my time spent on the Galapagos Explorer was one of the best experiences I have ever had traveling. We sailed around the various islands off the coast of Ecuador, going on full day excursions with our tour guide and absorbing as much information as possible about this one-of-a-kind place. To better describe this experience I would like to exercise my creative license and take you, the reader, back to summertime, away from the reality of here and now, and to a place that is so exceptional it seems unreal… Our party consists of 17 people. We are a loud and happy group, ranging in age from 8 to 80. We account for about a quarter of the passengers on board. Our cruise line, the Galapagos Explorer, is a relatively small boat, though the largest that sails in the Galapagos. A deep voice comes on over the loudspeaker each morning at 6 a.m. “Buenos dias, caballeros y caballeras…” You are not supposed to sleep in. You would be cheating yourself if you did; the Galapagos is not a beach resort, but a rich ecosystem—a completely different environment from anything you’ve ever seen. As we get onto the zodiac boats that take us for our first on-shore excursion, it is late afternoon and the sun is beautiful. The ship gets smaller as we make our way to a beach that is covered with lounging sea lions. We swim in the freezing water with these creatures; they dip and dive past us, occasionally bumping into us playfully. My younger cousin’s flipper falls off in the water and two young sea lions begin playing with it, stealing it from one another and chasing after it. I make my way back to the beach to find a sea lion using my bag as a pillow. Already I am captivated by this place; I feel like I’m in some kind of Discovery Channel special. I have never been this close to wildlife, and they, in turn, seem completely indifferent to me. The rest of my encounters with the brazen creatures of the Galapagos are similar. As we hike up Hispaniola Island, the path is lined with lush green bushes covering sleeping sea lions and blue-footed boobies and their chicks. We reach the top of the island, overlooking a cliff where
the waves crash into the rocks and birds swarm overhead. Each island is different: one will be covered in green plant life while the next will have a landscape that was carved out of a volcano crater. We see bright red Galapagos crabs, flightless cormorants, frigates, penguins, dolphins, and tortoises. Though the focus of this cruise is on wildlife and its natural habitat, towards the end of our journey the boat has an equator party to celebrate the passing of the ship over the equator. The top deck is packed with people. A band plays music as we eat grilled foods and watch people in costumes reenact the myth of the equator. There is no mistaking when we pass: the sun hangs orange in the sky and then disappears with a green flash of light as it sets beneath the equator. Just like that our week has come and gone. The day before our return back to the States, we stay in the capital city of Quito, safely ensconced in a modern hotel, complete with a five star restaurant and concierge service. There are no wild animals roaming the halls, no rolling waves, and no faint chirping of Darwin’s finches. Somehow civilization seems empty without sea lions at my feet, or iguanas sunning on the rocks. Those small islands are far more representative of life on this planet than the cars and buses taking us to the airport. The Galapagos gets under your skin; the wonders on those small islands make it impossible to forget that a fascinating and complex world exists beyond our digitized lives. Even now, months after my trip, it’s hard not to think of the birds flying overhead, the swimming creatures or the black sand at my feet.
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B BONAIRE gabe sherman
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As all the guidebooks and magazines say, Bonaire is truly a diver’s paradise. One of the ABC islands (along with Aruba and Curaçao), it caters to scuba enthusiasts looking for a hassle-free way to enjoy the beautiful coral reef and submarine environment the island has to offer. Off to the side of the “highway” running along much of the coast are painted yellow rocks signifying recommended dive sites. A giant baitball (a tightly packed school of fish) often make an appearance at “The Cliff” site. Back on land, you need to return to “island mode,” which includes adapting to “island time.” Expect long periods of waiting without explanation at restaurants and, more frustratingly, at the airport. However, as evidenced by the seemingly relaxed and carefree fisherman in his boat, once you are in this island mentality, rushing about and checking your watch seem unnecessary.
F O C U S
MEENA BOLOURCHI
Traveler talks to Tufts senior and photographer extraordinaire Meena Bolourchi about her travels, photography and escaping tourism. Tufts Traveler: These pictures are really amazing. Where and when did you take them? Meena Bolourchi: I went on a family vacation to Suva, the capital of Fiji in 2005. It was just for fun, [laughing] but I am a photographer. I was excited with what I [could] work with. TT: As a photographer and a traveler, you must have taken thousands of pictures from all over the world. How did Fiji compare with the other countries? MB: I do a lot of portraits of people when they know and when they don’t know when I’m taking their pictures, so there is a fine line for what is okay and what is not okay. But in Fiji, especially, they were very friendly and wanted me to take their pictures as opposed to some other countries where people were very suspicious and thought that I would publish them in bad ways. In Fiji they were very welcoming, excited. Many people I’ve met haven’t seen a camera before. TT: But being on a family vacation, you must have seen a lot of very tourist-centered places. How did you escape that in terms of your photography? MB: We were in a touristy hotel, but I really wanted to step outside of the hotel and actually see the villages. Not the train tours of the villages, but actually walk by foot, talk to the chiefs of the village. Every 30 blocks of the city is a new village, and they each have their own chief. So I went and asked the chief of this village if I could take pictures of the people of his village. He directed me to some of the women taking care of their kids. I talked to them. They mostly knew English, though I did know the phrase “Can I take your picture” in Fijian. So I took a couple of pictures and I turned my camera around to show them the pictures that I took because it was digital, and they were so excited. I had never seen anything like that before. They were talking in Fijian and I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they were jumping up and down and pointing at the pictures, pointing at themselves. They were so excited that they were on this device. I don’t think they understood what was happening but they generally liked it when I took these pictures, so I kept taking more. I then got the address from the mothers and I sent the pictures to them. Another interesting thing: I could tell that the mothers were telling them to make certain poses representative of the Fijian culture. They were telling the kids to make peace signs. The mothers kept repeating “Peace, peace.” The kids, not knowing what to do, just made the peace signs. They were very friendly. TT: What were the people like in the non-touristy villages? MB: People invited us to come home for dinner, in a very friendly way – not sketchy. Basically, when you’re walking around you can talk to people; when you go to the markets you can talk to people. There are very touristy places, and very rural areas. And there was a big gap between them, but I wanted to cross that gap and I was very interested in with the difference, the culture, and the people.
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“ ” Many people I’ve met haven’t seen a camera before. -meena bolourchi
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Photographs by Meena Bolourchi
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