Well, I left India yesterday morning at 2:35 am. Leaving was bittersweet. I was happy to leave the chaos and see my family in Italy (I'm now in Florence and will be travelling Italy for a few weeks). That said, arriving back to the West was a bit of culture shock. India is a difficult place to live but once you get in the swing of things - its an even more difficult place to leave. Life is very different in India and I have certainly adopted many of the cultural quirks and idiosyncracies. I almost began to eat my pasta by hand yesterday forgetting that its normal to use a fork and knife. Anyway, its a nice day here and I don't plan to spend too much time inside on the computer.Ciao! Buona Giornata.
Thanks to India and everyone I met there. It is a place full of warmth, love and mystery. I can't wait to return!
Skuu or Skyu (shown here) - pronounced like "Skew" - is a common pasta dish in the Ladakhi villages. I had the opportunity to eat it several times and then during my homestay requested to learn the recipe. Rigsen, a 22-year old male from Rumbak, lived in the house next door (a picture of his kitchen is below - all Ladakhi village kitchens are very similar). He spoke some English and we became friends during my stay. He was my Skyu instructor.Recipe:Mix water and pure wheat flour together to make a very hearty, thick dough in a large bowl. Roll the dough into long thin tubes (about 3/4 inch diameter). Pinch off small pieces of the tubes (about every 1/2 inch) and then press with thumb to form what resembles a gnochi with a thumb print in it. Make as much or little as you like. They typically end up with 200 or so little Skyu pieces.In the mean time, fry onions, tomatoes and a few leafy green or root vegatables such as spinach, lettuce, peas, etc. in a large sauce pan. Sometimes potatoes, carrots and even mutton is added as well. Add salt, chili powder, garam masala and tumeric to the veggies. After the vegetables are thoroughly fried, add water and boil. After boiling for a few minutes, place the Skyu pasta into the water and continue to boil. Skyu should be very tough and chewy. The pasta should not be cooked all the way through - very much "Al Dente." 
After boiling for 10 minutes or so add about a cup or so of whole milk or cream. We used milk from the goat outside (it was freshly milked that morning and certainly not pasteurized). Boil milk (if you happen to use fresh cow or goat milk, boiling with kill all bacteria) with everything else for a few more minutes. Now you have Skyu... The creamy sauce should be yellow and not too thick. Mmmmm.... delicious. That said, what makes Skyu so great in Ladakh is that all the ingredient come fresh from right outside. The dish is very hearty, healthy and simple. Try to obtain all organic, natural ingredients.
I've spent the last three days and two nights: eating, drinking, working, sleeping, and even defecating as a Ladakhi villager would. Three days ago, at 7 am, I drove from Leh to Zingchan - as far as one can get by motorable road into the Markha Valley. En route, my jeep driver barely averted disaster as we slammed into the mountainside wall to avoid a jeep coming around a single lane blind curve. Better hit the wall then drive off the otherside and plummet several hundred feet down a cliff to our death. In the end, the incident only served to waken my nerves in preparation for a long day. After being dropped off, wished good luck, and told I'd be picked up in the same spot in three days, I began a several hour uphill trek along a small river toward the village of Rumbak. The hike itself follows a small glacier stream and runs through a deep gorge - absolutely beautiful. I didn't encounter another person the entire time I was walking - unsettling at first, trekking alone becomes a very peaceful experience. I was forced to cross the river several times - often finding myself jumping from rock to rock and at one point falling into the freezing water - thank god it was a hot, sunny day and I dried off quickly.
I didn't bathe but was able to wash my hands and face once a day using water boiled over an open fire in the kitchen. After settling in, I returned downstairs to find the house empty. The mother and daughter were out in the fields and father was off in the mountains. Rumbak becomes a ghost town between 9 am and 5:30 pm - everyone is out working. I spent the day exploring the small village and surrounding area - mostly enjoying the peace and quiet to read, relax and take in the beautiful view. I returned to my room a few hours later to find an old man sitting on the roof outside my room. The second floor has a flat roof / balcony that is shared by several rooms. The old man, while combing through the fur of an animal pelt to eventually produce clothing, looked at me a bit surpised and muttered a few words in Ladakhi. Not sure what he said, I simply smiled and said, "Jullay!" Jullay is a general greeting which means hello, goodbye, thanks, you're welcome and is very useful. He motioned me to follow him and he led me to his bedroom (barely 10 ft x 10 ft) where he had his own kitchen. He motioned for me to sit on his bed and then he began to prepare tea. We sat in silence, sipping tea and smiling for about 30 minutes. I later learned this was Aba Meme (Grandfather). He no longer works and now spends his days meditating, spinning his prayer wheel and enjoying the company of others who aren't our working for the day. 
After observing Aba, I imitated his system of whistles, chirps, yells and rock throwing to help direct the herd into the hills. The walk itself is steep and takes about three hours. Once we reached our final destination, I turned around to head back to the village to spend the afternoon relaxing. All of the men return much later around 5:30 pm when the entire village comes out to greet them and help sort through the animals and return them to the proper pens. Each animal's forehead is painted a certain color to signify which family it belongs. 
I had to force myself to concentrate on the path straight ahead, too scared to look to my left where one false step on the slippery one-foot wide path could send you into a unwanted death slide. Suneel and I moved slowly, careful to test the grip of every step we as we zig-zagged across this steep ridge leading to the Maptek-Lago Pass (elevation: 12,300 ft). Coming to a fork in the path, we looked at eachother, unsure of which to take and not wanting to go th wrong way in such isolated and barren terrain. Luckily, we look behind to to see a small village woman with a makeshift wooden backpack trudging along at fast pace, completely ignoring the steep drop to her left (and most likely amused at our clear unease and confusion). Although she speaks no English and I certainly don't speak Ladakhi, she understands that we need to get to Ang and signals for us to follow. The trek that we did connects five or six very small, isolated and self-sustaining villages. Many of the villagers, like this woman, trek daily for hours between villages and know the ins, outs and subtle intricacies of each path better than most of us know our own cities. Even more remarkable is that all village children (being compulsory to attend school - education is highly valued in Ladakh) beginning at the age of five will trek to and from school every day (two hours each way). In two of the villages we visited, we had the opportunity to visit the local school some of which only have five students but nonetheless remain open and the teachers are enthusiastic, talented, and well-revered. More about the Ladakhi culture in a later blog.Overall, out trek lasted two days and we covered a significant amount of ground. Leaving early in the morning on Friday, we trekked all morning and saw absolutely no one. There is a real sense of isolation and awe from being in such a grand place that you just don't get when hiking through a national park in say Colorado. Here, the trails are not marked. Guidebooks are sparse and there is noone to rescue you if things go awry. Nonetheless, Suneel and I were up for the challenge and reached a small village known as YangTang around 2 pm. Hungry, we knocked on the door of one of the six or seven homes and signaled that we were hungry. Being such gracious people, after removing our shoes, we were ushered into the kitchen where we sat on the floor, with the grandfather of the family and another member of the family man who were also awaiting lunch. The son, who had answered the door spoke decent English having attended College in Chennai and coming home to be a local mathematics teacher in Ladakh. The grandfather, who eyes were glazed over from old age and face was criss-crossed with deep lines resulting from years of trekking, agriculture and daily life sat opposite of us smiling, wearing a typical Ladakhi wool robe and and continuously spun his small prayer wheel. The other man was helping to prepare lunch, making what resembled large gnocchi balls with thumb prints from wheat flour and barley. All the food was pure Ladakhi and the meal was known as Skuu. Its a very simple dish - only vegetables (Ladakhi Buddhist natives are mostly vegetarian) and only vegetables and different breads, grain and pastas can be found in the villages. The best part is all the ingredients are grown by each family in their personal gardens / farms. Each village and each family is completely self-sustainable growing wheat, barley, spices, and vegetables. Water comes fresh and pure from the glaciers. Although the locals don't eat meat, they herd Yak, cows, goats and sheeps in the mountains and bring them down periodically to use their manure for fertilizer and their fur for clothing.After a very memorable lunch, we headed out again from YangTang en route to Hemis, the small village where we planned to spend the night. Several hours, steep passes, and beautiful views later, we reached hemis. Hemis is one of the medium-sized villages. There is a monastery in the town and several homes, all of which have specific names. We stayed at Toro Pa which means waterfall in Ladakhi.I woke up around 6 am and sat on the roof of Toro Pa watching the sunrise. The views are breathtaking. Directly in front of me is a lush green valley dotted with small homes, creeks, a few trees and more than a few Buddhist stupas and prayer flags with snowcapped mountains and red rock and stone hills as a backdrop. We had a traditional breakfast - cooked fresh - we watched the cook make the dough, roll it out and prepare the rotis (plain wheat bread) over an open fire. Tea is a must with every Indian meal as well - and is even more emphasized in Ladakh where they have their own special teas.We departed Toro Pa around 8 am heading fo Temisgam (we pass through Ang on th way) - the final village on our trek. The last stretch is the most physically and mentally challenging. This is where we encountered the death-defying ridge path and ascended several steep passes over 12,000 feet (photos to come). We reached Ang and then Temisgam many hours later - tired, sore, dusty and hungry. From Temisgam, we made our way to Nurla - a small village on main Leh-Srinagar highway where we jumped onto a random worker bus for a four hour journey back to Leh. The bus was old, dusty and completely packed. Regardless, they accepted us on board - I was offered a small space on the floor between four sets of smelly feet, next to some trash. I was able to nestle myself in for the ride. Four hours later, we reached Leh. I blew my nose to reveal (sorry for the details) snot brown and black from all the dust. It wasn't a pleasant trip but a great ending to a very satisfying and exciting journey.Tomorrow morning (Sunday) I depart solo to Rumbak - a small village in the Hemis High Altitude mountains. Here, I am doing a Ladakhi homestay in a small village for two nights and then hiking back out to Leh. Another adventure awaits, another story. I'll be without electricity for a few days hence no computers - more to come soon.
I arrived in Leh at 7:00 am on Wednesday, June 6. The flights leave early for visibility reasons. Although I travelled to Leh alone, I have managed to meet another lone traveller, Suneel, getting off the plane in Leh. We have become travel companions, sharing our adventure, and becoming fast friends along the way. He is Indian-American and I refer to him as Doctor because he just finished his medical degree and is now a registered MD (specialization in the Emergency Room). I have heard some great stories and its comforting to have a doctor around - although the medical jargon can get a bit confusing. We spent the first day acclimatizing - I slept all morning. Leh sits at 3505 m (roughly 11,000 feet) so there is a serious risk of developing Acute Mountain Sickness if you don't rest for at least 24 hours. The culture and people of Ladakh are completely different. There is a large Tibetan and Buddhist presence which permeates the food, festivities, and atmosphere. The city is peaceful and I find myself so relaxed that I have trouble keeping track of time and often find myself asking what day it is. Leh itself is the largest city in Ladakh and serves as a sort of basecamp for exploring the surrounding Himalayas whether through cross-country treks, visits to monasteries, or exploration of small Ladakhi villages. The valleys and mountain ranges of Ladakh are dotted with Gompas (Buddhist Monasteries) which we spent a day visiting (Thursday, June 7). The Monasteries are very colorful, peaceful and the resident monks warm and inviting. All throughout Ladakh, and specifically within the monasteries, there are Buddhist Prayer Wheels (see photo). Imagine a large decorative cylinder that sits on an axis which allows it to spin. Some are simple and look almost like a soup can while others are colored covered in bells and are encased inside decorative pagodas. They range in size from large structures which are immobile and require a bit of force to turn to smaller ones that are mobile and able to be carried around. Spinning the prayer wheel clockwise symbolizes saying a Buddhist prayer. Its not uncommon to see elderly Ladakhis and Tibetan Buddhist peacefully sitting slowly spinning a handheld prayer wheel over and over again. After touring the monasteries, we returned to Leh and spent the afternoon touring the city. Yesterday (Friday, June 8), the adventure truly began as Suneel and I set out early in the morning on a two day trek through the Himalayas. More to come...
