Jule Ladakh!

It’s been four days, and I have one Ladakhi word- “Jule” (Jullay), which is a beautiful way to say hello...and goodbye, and thank you, and please.  So really, I have four Ladakhi words! 

Flying in was like descending to a magical alien planet- the Himalayas rose up through the clouds, reaching for the plane razors of black peaks cut with rivulets of snow.  Once the clouds cleared enough, the slightly lower ranges stretched in amazing desert shades of brown, tan, purple, maroon, yellow, and green.  The green was from a mineral in the rock- there was no vegetation until we reached Leh town itself, and started spiraling lower into the looming mountain ranges.  The pilot kindly took this moment to tell us that this is one of the most dangerous landings for personal aircraft in the world, because it requires a high level of expertise to maneuver through the mountains.  Thanks, man.

Needless to say, we landed without mishap into the only patch of green in a martian landscape, and were promptly bundled off into an army jeep.  Now, this might not sound like the best way to leave the airport, but in a stroke of luck, it turned out that Shivani’s uncle, a person with considerable sway in the Indian army, is stationed here in Leh.  So, we were picked up by some army dudes and taken to one of the army compounds in Leh, where we were set up (for free!) in guest quarters for family members of the army. 

Basically, for the past three days we have been completely taken care of here in the army mess- sometimes overly so (neither me nor Shivani took kindly to being buzzed awake at 7 am our first morning here by a guy wanting to know whether we wanted our chai yet- no, you crazy person, we’re trying to sleep off the altitude change!)- with three meals a day, snacks, hot water, and round the clock electricity.  However, the price of this is that we are one other people’s schedules, and have to answer to various people's idea of our safety and needs. So we've moved now to a gorgeous guesthouse full of windows, in the middle of a lush garden completely at odds with the deserty mountains it's set against.

On Sunday, the military boys took Shivani and I "boating".  What this really turned out to be was floating gently on a raft for half an hour down the calmest part of the Zanskar.  After this "adventure", Shivani and I commented that we would be interested in a little rougher water, as we both have done some whitewater rafting before.  So a panicked guy with a walky-talky starts trying to move the entire entourage (complete with a truck that folded out into a tea room) upriver so that we could see a little whiter water.  After refusing the first place, because the rapids *still* weren't exciting enough, we finally parked the car on the side of a winding mountain road and scrambled down a slope of scree and wild lavender to a tumultuous part of the river.  

With an escort of five Indian military dudes, Shivani's uncle, and her uncle's friend, we piled into a small river raft with six oars (and one more for steering).  The first few rapids went quite will.  One of the (very attractive) army guys commented on how impressed he was with my rowing (followed by a hilariously pointed glare at Shivani's attempts at paddling on the other side of the raft).  We were doing good.  Then we came to the biggest rapid that we would reach on our excursion.  We hit the surge on the front left side of the raft, which lifted almost vertically, tumbling everyone on the left side over onto the right, and subsequently flipping the whole raft, launching us all into the glacial melt that is the Zanskar river.

Now, I saw all of this happen in slow motion.  The raft coming towards me, everyone rolling and falling, and that tipping point where there was no question as to whether the raft might stay upright.  And then I was under the raft, tangled with other people in the dark violent water, scrambling to find the side that I could push myself out with.  Luckily, I was facing upward, and was able to pull myself along the underside of the raft until I found the rope on the edge, and hauled myself out and above water.  I don't know how long I scrambled to stay attached to the raft, swallowing icy sandy water and clinging to the rope, trying not to panic but also very aware that this river could kill me- especially as I was drinking and inhaling so much of it.  When I had caught up enough on breathing to look around, I managed to make out most of the men that were with us also clinging to the raft- two were even managing to scramble on top of it- and the sight of Shivani's uncle, calm and clinging to the raft, was enough to momentarily reassure me.  Then I realised that Shivani was nowhere to be found.  Shivani's uncle seemed to realise this at the same time, and we both turned around to see her floating some fifty yards behind us, riding out the rapids in her life jacket.  The military convoy was meanwhile driving along the river, dropping useless ropes from a bridge in an attempt to help Shivani, and generally panicking.  They didn't even get any photographs of us overturned! 

We finally got the raft turned back over once we were through the worst of the rapids, and managed to retrieve enough oars to get us to the unloading point downriver.  At this point, we're just happy to be alive, shivering and coughing up river water, laughing and shaking. 

The rest of that day and some portion of the next I spent in bed with a fever and nausea- apparently the result of being dumped in glacier water, going into shock, then baking in the mountain sun.  But now I am healed, and even managed to stay up till 2am last night for a Ladakhi wedding!

I'll post another update in the next day or two full of photographs from all of these things!! I don't have time to upload them today, but there are some amazing things to see, so keep checking back!