We left Varanasi via train and made the 20+ hr train ride to Dehra Dun where Alex and I were to meet Alex's host family. The train ride went smooth as I remember. We hopped off the train at Dehra Dun, the end of the line, and took an auto-rickshaw to Pooja's house. Pooja, Alex's Inidan Mom, welcomed us warmly, fed us great food, and showed us around the city. Dehra Dun is where all the British children of the Raj came to go to school and the academic tradition has hung around. Dehra Dun is apparently the seat of Academia in India and all the best High Schools are there. How much this affected the atmosphere I can't say. Dehra Dun even has a military technology base. It's also located below the hill station of Mussourie, which was a popular summer retreat for the British.
Pooja's house is located in a "Progressive Colony" that is the Indian attempt at a "Western" suburb. The houses are all quite large, complete with multiple cars inside fenced off plots, and down the street is a western-style supermarket. The streetlamps in the colony are adorned with banners of progressive propaganda. These lifeless rags limply flap in the wind, sun-bleached, with words only barely legible, reminiscent of a movement come to soon; a dream and heyday passed. The less tattered signage bear phrases like "Littering hurts everybody," "Don't be afraid of change. Change is evolution." And, "We are a respectful community. No harassing people on the street." Pooja shared the statistic that something like 180 members of the community are related to Pooja's family. I can't imagine there are more than 300 community members in total. Our stay in the colony was pleasant, and I even got to ride a brand new Royal Enfield 500!!!
The next day Alex and I took another rickshaw to the Jeep Depot where we then got on a jeep to head up to Satyon. Satyon is a village in the foothills of the Himalaya where Pooja's school is located. The jeep ride to Satyon was an adventure! First off, Alex and I were squeezed into the far back area. We weren't so terribly tightly packed until we picked up some locals on the way up the twisty mountain roads. Before I knew it there were 14 (or more, I'm not totally sure how many people were on the roof) people squeezed into the jeep. To avoid suffocation I opened my window. Soon I felt the cooling touch of moisture hitting my face. Must be the moist mountain air. Wait, this mountain air doesn't taste nor smell fresh at all. In fact.... Two rows up in the jeep a local woman was puking out her window.
Driving up the mountain roads to Satyon was a death-defying leap of faith to be sure. At times the one lane road would whip around hair pin turns with 200+ft. cliffs on three sides. This one lane road is used for two way traffic and the only way to know if another car is coming your direction is to hear its horn. You honk before the corner hoping other vehicles will hear you. Even if they do it's a race to be around the corner first and not be the one who has to pull over. Amazingly absurd. I had innocently handed over my life 100% to a jeep driver I had never spoken to.
The village of Satyon turned out to be a beautiful place. Satyon is mainly a farming community and Pooja's school works to educate the local children in order to prevent their exodus to Dehra Dun for school. We stayed with the english teaching volunteers at the school and spent a great afternoon and evening in the small village.
The next day was back to Dehra Dun via bus. Same roads that were sketchy as all hell in a jeep, but this time in a bus. 50X more terrifying and death-defying and 4X more puke, this time not in my face. The bus was almost wider than the roads, and more tippy than the jeep. I prepared my soul for salvation and came to grips with my mortality. Huge learning lesson and I'm so glad I lived through that trip to apply what I learned in those two hair-raising hours to the rest of my life.
We spent another night at Pooja's then left for Haridwar the next morning.
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