"Would you like a look-see, Madam?"

Holy men, Holy mountains. The adventure to the edge of the Himalaya was pure fantasy. Steep green steps of rice lining the curves of the Ganges, pommegranite sunsets, small villages dotting the hillsides- we drove 7 hours to the holy ground between India and Tibet, hearts opening and family forming on the way. Negiji, our slender, uniformed and focused driver, carefully tooting his horn as a warning to oncoming trucks and buses--Brig-mohan (our lead guide),India's version of Fred Flintstone, pointing out temples and wildlife, looking over his shoulder from the front seat, frequently asking, "Madam, would you like to stop and have a look-see?"--- Karan, the self-confident, young guide from Nepal, adopting me as his "di di" (sister), attempting to teach me hindi on the drive----And Pandi, our shy quiet cook, silently giggling in the back with the luggage. Unimagined sites along the way, both to, and from, the majestic views--drums keeping rhythm to mantras and chants at the Kalimaht temple, the hooves of brick-laden donkeys, clicking along the road, women swirled in color swinging machetes at branches for firewood, monkeys chatting from treetops, steam rising from early morning chai cups, temple bells ringing at 12,000 feet, hindi songs around the evening campfire, a roadside holy man touching my heart with his hand,the silence of Nanda Devi--the 7,830 meter peak blessing us under clear skies, and the somber gathering on the river bank as the pyre is lit and a village woman's body is separated from its soul by fire. To have lived this dream is another jewel.
Ram, Ram, Hare Om. We are blessed.