Rabungla and Darjeeling on Christmas Day

 Yesterday it rained on us on the way out from our trek and it was misty all the way to Rabungla. I woke up this morning to a view of a 148ft tall golden Buddha against the backdrop of snow covered mountains and a startlingly blue sky. I ran downstairs like a kid at Christmas (because it was actually Christmas) to sit in the dining room and feast my eyes while being served delicious tea. I’m getting very spoiled here. Gyatso somehow bulled his way into the kitchen of our hotel and made us banana pancakes for breakfast. He is the funniest man- he can charm his way through military checkpoints where the soldiers are scowling when we arrive and waving us off with laughter ten minutes later. Every shopkeeper, hotel worker and driver he talks to acts like he is their long lost best friend in the same amount of time. In short, he makes things happen and is an amazing tour guide. I rode on the back of his motorcycle all the way to Darjeeling, passing through field after terraced field of tea plants. Sometimes there was a road that looked like a road, but frequently it was a lot like dirt biking because the roads had washed out or been covered by a landslide.

Darjeeling itself is a bit of a madhouse. Christmas is much more celebrated here than I expected - the streets were jam packed with tourists from all over India (May and Tim were still the only Caucasians we saw), and American Christmas carols were blaring from speakers on every corner. At dinner, conversation was made impossible by the rotating groups of youth singers (with drums and guitars) singing Nepali Christmas carols discordantly but with great fervor. It was kind of surreal after being in the hinterlands for several days. I prefer the hinterlands. We walked around for a little while after dinner, but the press of people had us heading back to our hotel room pretty early.