Follow the Journey

Ever since applying for Carpe India, I’ve been psyched for the four day trek. There’s something extremely satisfying about going from point A to point B using nothing but my two feet (plus 16 mules’ hooves…zero ways I’m dragging a propane tank and a few tents up the mountain). The trek was challenging on some days but we got plenty of breaks and were treated like kings and queens at the campsites: all our meals were taken care of, tents were set up before we finished hiking, even our sleeping bags were rolled out for us. It was luxury camping at its finest. I’ve barely worked a muscle in my body since touching down in India (unless you include my jaw, in which case I’ve done a lot of chewing), so it was a glorious feeling to wake up sore. But besides the satisfaction of working out, the trek helped the octo-jis bond even more.
After spending a week in separate homestays, it felt like we hadn’t seen each other in years. But as our boots thudded on the rocky trail, we fall back into our usual patterns. Riddles are shared, and tales from the past week are exchanged. Katrina and I discussed food and holiday traditions, while the boys became enthralled in another game of hypotheticals: “Would you rather wear a German Laderhosen or a suit of armor?” “African witch doctor or 19th century blacksmith?” “New Zealand Maori or Swiss Milkmaid?” “Assuming you’d survive, would you rather give up sleeping or eating?” When they exhaust of these sorts of questions, we play telephone which gets really interesting when the guides play: if you think tongue-twisters are hard, try deciphering them in a Hindi or Scottish accent.
At the campsites, we played games of hacky-sack (which requires a new level of awareness when you play in a field of cow poop). My competitive side comes out when we start 10,000, a dice game that requires as much luck as it does skill. But my favorite part of the trek was without a doubt the nightly campfires. After stuffing ourselves chock-full of carbs, we’d migrate towards the fire pit in all of our layers. Some nights Benji strummed the guitar as the rest of us roasted s’mores (there was a concerted effort to find marshmallows in McLeod Ganj). Some nights we just stared at the flames, grateful for their warmth and hypnotizing beauty. But most of all, we chatted. It’s nights like those of the past week that I cherish the most. Our group’s ability to share in ab-splitting laughter over digestion troubs and ear wax, and then shift gears to discuss impermanence or debate the meaning of enlightenment, is a quality that isn’t easy to find. I revel in everyone’s light-heartedness but I’m grateful for all the spiritual and existential questions we discuss. The time in nature was incredibly rejuvenating and non-stop group time struck the core of what I love about the octo-jis: our insatiable curiosity and endlessly entertaining conversations.
Sophia