Like a Sore Thumb

It took a lot of effort this morning to go for a run. First run in the rural village I will be for the next few weeks. It was a cold morning and my bed was quite warm. Most of all, it was overcoming the thought of sticking out like a sore thumb that was the hardest.

Intense curiosity, at a distance.

Like a zoo, except I'm the object of interest.

When I returned from my run, hot and sweaty, even though the temperature outside was still chilly, I paused to stretch outside of the hotel. I had passed a man standing on the street opposite the hotel, who incomprehensibly watched me approach, stop, and stretch. I looked up after a few minutes and realized he had turned, to face me, and continue watching my strange ways. I kept stretching. I could see him inch a few steps closer with each passing minute, but never getting too close - a cautious distance from a wild animal. The next time I looked up, a gathering of about 5 children had also stopped to watch, also at a safe distance.

I was still sweating, beads dripping down my face, pooling on the ground below. I wore running shorts, running shoes, and a long sleeve top. It was cold enough outside that there was probably steam rising from my head. The observers were covered from head to toe, ready for a winter storm. I finished stretching and greeted the crowd in Hindi... namaste.

As if the trance was broken, the man inched towards me and started speaking in broken English. He asked what I was doing here and for how long I would be in town. He works on a renewable energy powerplant in a nearby flood-stricken area.

I sometimes struggle with the stares and attention. Its not easy to stand out. It takes backbone and a cognizant effort to ignore the faces of passersby and pretend not to notice. Its not personal.

If a man with purple skin and a space suit walked down the street, I would probably stare too. Out of curiosity. Out of an interest in why he was here, in my town, and where he came from. And I would hope that I too, would have the guts to approach him and to ask him about himself.

The Innovative Indian

I don't have a personal hatred towards pennies.  They have never really done me any wrong.  I always get a little kick out of finding one on the ground.  However, I never have much use for them, and for that reason alone, I know a number of people who despise them.

I've noticed a few things in India, and one of them is how innovative things can be.  Take the penny for example.  In India, one US Dollar is approximately 50 Indian Rupees.  There are lots of small coins around, however in India, they can be worth something - depending on the person.

Recently in a coffee shop, when I went to pay, I was told that there were no 5 Rupee coins - the equivalent of about a Dime.  Slightly taken aback, I was handed a small, 10 piece packet of Orbitz gum instead.  The more I think about this - the more brilliant I think it is.  This company has taken what many consider a neglectable amount of money and have found a way to improve the value of it for all parties involved.  Although the majority of Indians would not consider 5 rupees worth anything, the type that would buy a cup of coffee in an establishment like this (100-300 INR for a cup of Joe, depending how fancy) would not.  

Instead of being given a piece of metal they would just as well cast on the street, they are instead being given a packet of gum - which after a cup of coffee, can be a welcome commodity.  A nice surprise, it is likely viewed to the customer to have more value than the 5 Rupee piece.  To the coffee company, the actual cost of the small packet of gum is likely less than 5 rupees.  In effect, they are making money by not giving out the full amount of change, and are probably making people happy about it.

Brilliant!

Or, I could be delusional, and that specific coffee shop might have run out of small change, and didn't want a lot of caffeinated, pissed off people running around town spreading rumors about the company for not having the foresight to carry enough small change.

Either way, Im caffeinated, I've got a little extra kick in my step AND my breath smells good!

The Mountains Beckon...Still

I didn't know quite what to expect in India. I had high hopes in Zambia of taking my love of the outdoors with me - hiking in the bush, camping, etc. Ah yes, naive me. There are lions and elephants in the bush there. There are more things there that want to eat you than you can shake a stick at. Literally. On my move to India, I made the conscious decision to leave a lot of that camping gear behind. It had come in useful in Africa - but felt like overkill. The Himalaya are close - but am I going to be able to squeeze in trips to Tibet or Nepal? Reluctantly, I packed light.

At first it didn't seem like a big deal. Moving quickly from business in Mumbai to Delhi to Bihar - I didn't have much time to go hiking, nor did I find any areas to do so aside from a bit of urban exploration. Alas, mountains inhabit the Indian spirit. Some Hindu gods are said to reside in the mountains. Without looking too hard, the mountains in India found me. Or at least they are trying to.

I attended a talk by Stephen Alter, a prominent writer on Indian culture, mountains, and his childhood there. The pictures drew me in. At the talk, I met the head of the Himalaya Club in Delhi. Turns out, his dad was the leader of the first Indian party to summit Everest, the third group to ever summit the mountain, in 1965. I met with him again a few weeks later to share stories, advice and pictures. He runs a mountaineering themed hotel, where all of the rooms are named after famous explorers, climbing pictures adorn the walls, and a rock wall scales up the lobby four floors to the skylights. Its the only indoor rock wall in all of New Delhi. Indoor.... That's because I was also introduced to an amazing outdoor rock wall. Yep, just about in my backyard, a great, big monster of a wall with sport routes and gnarly overhangs that nimble little Indian kids can scamper up, but I have no chance. And just to rub it in a bit, I found a posting for a guy leaving town who was looking to offload his climbing gear.

I think the signs just all point in one direction. The right direction. To go higher. I'm heading to the mountains of Colorado for the holidays, and you can be sure that I will be returning with a large bag of gear. Who knows what mountainous adventures await. Its because the mountains beckon. Still...and always.

(picture courtesy of http://www.sikhspectrum.com/)

Pre-Season Training for Steely Thighs

Its true. Ski season is upon us. But here is sunny New Delhi, it seems far, far away. For those with closer access to the ski hills, this post will not help you. For me, its probably more cathartic than anything else. On with it.

I have a date with a ski mountain at the end of this month. I'm getting butterflies. I wake up at night in a cold sweat. What will I do? What will I say? Will the mountain like me too? I think this date requires a little preparation.

Waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, is, unfortunately, not that far from the realm of reality. My worst nightmare: I'm so out of ski shape and practice that my first day back on the slopes is one of pain, misery and embarrassment. Yes, the first day telemarking of the season always involves a little bit of pain and misery, but pre-season training can help relieve the pain and set the correct frame of mind. With these sunny days, cows strolling in the street, and chai-wallahs relaxing on the street corner, telemark prepped thighs and a snow-steeled head are far my daily reality. I think I've gotten to the stage where my fear is slowly morphing into the motivating factor to get into ski shape - and to ensure I don't lose gnar points for making hot tub runs or call the day early to head for the bar.

I have dawned my running shoes, shorts and shirt and gone running a few times a week for a few weeks now, and the looks of locals are always the same: those that acknowledge my presence indicate no friendliness in their faces. Blank stares. Incomprehension. Most avoid eye contact, encouraging me to do the same. There are the few who say hi, or give a sign of encouragement. A few kids will give high-fives or say how are you, but its nothing compared to the onlsaught of village kids chasing after you for a mile or so smiling and yelling, and then asking for money, like I experienced in Africa. The runs are fraught with other obstacles, including deer, peacocks, pigs and unruly kids - yes, even in New Delhi. I also heard stories of eight foot angry cobras - but that's personally unverified so far.

But solid prep for skiing and telemarking requires more than a sauntering jog. Thighs of steel don't come THAT easily. So here is the Theis Delhi Telemark Workout Plan:

1) Lunges. Lots of them. You really can't do too many lunges. If you thought strange looks came from running, than you haven't seen anything yet. Choose a side street, alley, or walkway in a park. Uncrowded if possible, because the jaw-dropping looks might cause you to fall over when your legs are at the throbbing brink of collapse. Don't let that stop you. Continue to lunge until your throbbing legs do collapse.

2) Wall sits. Having a mid-day cup of coffee? No need for a chair - just pull up a wall. How about brushing your teeth? Need a work break? Better yet, encourage a colleague to a wall-sit-off. Yes, competition IS a motivator.

3) Mountain climbers. Let me guess, you haven't done these since you were in elementary school, right? Well (whisper), me neither. But don't let that stop you now. Breathless and panting, keep those legs moving as fast as you can. How else are you going to get those seamless turn transitions in the deep pow?

4) Jumps. Find random things to jump on. That park bench - yep, up and down. Three sets of 30. Now. Go. That awkward half stone half dirt curb - perfect. One leg only, up, down, side to side, up, down, side to side. Switch legs. Tired of jumping on things? How about done that dirt path over there? 20 in a row, standing long jumps. Did you make it further than you did last time? Done with lunges? Think again. Jumps + Lunges = The Next Level. In place, lunge right, now jump, switch legs, and lunge left. Ah yea, now that's tele'ing in Delhi!

5) Mix it all up. Lunges, jumps, mountain climbers. Tired? Breathless? You can recover with sit-ups or push-ups. Don't neglect that core!

Phew, Im tired just typing. Good thing I wrote the post in a wall sit. That much closer to those steely, telemark prepped thighs... bring on the snow.

Suggested additions to the work out plan? Please!

Oh India.

Its the small things that are causing India to grow on me. Yes, the food is delicious. No matter how much vegetable subji with roti I gorge on, all the intricate flavors and spices, diverse veggies and new ways to prepare them keep it interesting. I never realized that true Indian food is eaten with your hands. It is. The obsession with hand washing prior to meals emphasizes the point, especially as each bathroom tends to hold a surprise - one may have toilet paper, one may have a hose, the last a hole in the floor with a bucket.

There are the unattractive bits: the half eaten rat in the alley outside of a string of restaurants and open kitchens, with full-bellied birds still presiding over the corpse; or the pervasiveness of poop - human, dog, cow or goat - even in the most upscale of Delhi neighborhoods. It seems like these add flavor to the nation's character. I can go for a run in wooded areas at the outskirts of the neighborhood, and be as likely to run into the garbage collectors of the city - pigs - as I am to run by wild peacocks.

And then there are further intrusions on the local culture...

My first ride of the Delhi metro was exhilarating. It is brand new, built for the Commonwealth Games held last year. It only took me about 1.5stops of dirty looks to realize I had their disdain with my inadvertently gotten

into the 'woman only' car. In my defense, I followed a mixed group of young students - but it did slowly dawn on me that I was the only male on the train. It was just me and a carload of Indian woman expressing presence - not a word was said - just seething, penetrating looks. When I changed to a different metro line, I made sure to get into a 'mixed' car. Getting 'on' became relative, as I was forced into the car in a throng of humanity, and had to fight my way into the exiting wave of bodies at my stop. High population density has its disadvantages.

I emerged from the Delhi metro at a large park, and tried to find the entrance. It was completely on the other side, with the perimeter of the park surrounded by a chest high fence with large metal spikes. Two Indians noted my obvious dismay at the situation and suggested the three of us jump over - "Hey," they said, "this is India." We picked the nearest location, where a security guard soundly slept on the other side, leaning against a tree. The first to jump over nearly fell on his face, rolling in the dirt on the other side. The guard slept on. The second very awkwardly made his way over - but without incident. In my graceful attempt to hop over, I lost my balance - misjudging the weight of my backpack. At my zenith, I caught my pant leg on one of the protruding metal spikes. It soundly caught as I fell backwards, and I found mys

elf suddenly upside-down, dangling, partially supported by my pant leg, my clinging to the fence, and a crowd of hands that had rushed to the seen to prevent 'the crazy expat' from dying. High population density has its advantages. Laughing, I pushed/pulled up and over, carefully extricating my ripped pants from the fence. The security guard slept on.

Yes, every day is an adventure. But its the small gestures and often ignored details that make it all the more memorable - and make India an amazing place.

PS. I know this picture wasn't taken in India, but I can't describe awkwardly dangling and express it any better than this.