May 27, 2009

[Arrival in Srinagar (written from memory as I was having way too much fun to journal at this point).]

We arrived in Srinagar in the evening, after a wonderful one hour flight equipped with a full meal, snacks, movies, and beautiful attendants in red skirts, heels, and bright red lipstick. Two men in a red Jeep picked us up from the tiny airport and drove us through the beautiful town in the setting sun. We were immediately shocked by the amount of military personnel lining the streets, spilling out of large trucks, and manning barbed wire fences. For those of use who have only seen men with black turbans, tan military uniforms, and rifles on the evening news... this was a bit unnerving. When we asked our drivers, they simply retorted that they were the "traffic police"...

But the vibes were good. It certainly didn't feel like a threatening place. Shrugging our shoulders, we turned our attention to the beautiful brick homes with fascinating, intricate windows flashing by in the most brilliant colors, shapes, and sizes.

Our fist sight of Daal Lake was breathtaking. There stood hundreds of beautiful houseboats, floating amongst lilly pads against the brilliant backdrop of the Himalayan Mountains.

We were dropped off at the edge of the lake and hopped into a small canopied boat in which we were paddled to our new destination.

Home at last. As soon as I saw the magnificent "Young Alzira" floating gracefully amidst the vegetation, I knew it was home. Instantly, the rich smell of the lake, clean Himalayan air, and clarifying altitude lifted me out of the stress experienced just the night before. I knew we had come to the right place. Here a beautiful, rich adventure lay waiting for us.

As I peeled back the lace curtains and stepped into the magical fortress, I nearly stopped breathing. Every inch of the boat's walls and ceiling were covered in the most ornate hand-carved flowers and designs. The floor was decorated with brilliant red rugs, and fresh vases full of flowers sat on the table. Max and I were led down a small hallway to our room and collapsed in sheer bliss. I'm pretty sure that the walls were made of cedar, as I've never smelled anything so incredible, so calming, and uplifting. For what seemed like a year, we laid down on our beds feeling the gentle sway of the boat, listening to the birds, and inhaling the moist, rich smells.

The kind boat worker beckoned us out for tea, which we enjoyed in the living room with light heads and joyful hearts. We spent the evening in conversation with Shafi's brother and father and stuffed ourselves with a ridiculously incredible meal after it grew dark.

We finished the night with a pot of Kashmir tea on the rooftop of the boat, feeling the cool Himalayan breeze, listening to cars zipping through the town, the chorus of prayers from the Mosques, and staring in amazement at the explosion of stars. Life had dealt us a hand that I never could have foreseen, hoped for, or expected. Thank you thank you thank you.