The Chinese way of life: Conquering new heights

I have a confession to make. I was a bit thrilled when I heard that China was going to build a road right up to Everest base camp. I have always dreamt of climbing the Everest (okay, another confession. Not climbing really, but at least getting till the base camp). And I thought the road will get me there easy (the day I start earning obnoxious amounts of money like some of my editors do, I will head for Tibet, take the road to Everest base camp and spend a day or two there, drinking rum – just like climbers in Vertical Limit were doing).
But within seconds I was thinking about the impact that the road will have on the fragile ecosystem. Imagine tourists coming in truckloads to see the tallest mountain peak in the world and littering, the fumes from vehicle exhausts, and so on. And, who knows, if the tourist flow is steady enough, the capitalists might think of building a mall there pretty soon.
China came in for criticism even when it linked Lhasa with Beijing with a new railway line. Although (damn, Chaitanya Kalbag has ensured that all of us who worked for Hindustan Times never use the word ‘though’ simply because he doesn’t like it) it took more than an engineering marvel to build the highest railway line in the world, the Tibetan way of life could forever be destroyed in the years to come. Western influences and tourist inflows will ensure that the next generation will never be the same again.
And here comes another confession. I was, and still am, thrilled by the train from Beijing to Lhasa (still waiting for that obnoxious amount of money that will let me travel to the other side of the Great Wall).
I have always dreamt of travelling in trains like Paul Theroux and R.L. Stevenson and writing about my experiences (even though I would never be able to write as beautifully as Theroux).
Coming back to the money involved: A one-way ticket from Beijing to Lhasa costs $158 (that’s around Rs 6,500) for a cushioned berth. You could get a hard berth for $100. Can you believe it? 6,500 bucks for a 48-hour journey that takes you through one of the most stunning landscapes in the world. The Tibet travel permit sets you back by another $100. So, for a little over $400, you could go from Beijing to Lhasa (meals not included) and back.
I can speak a smattering of Chinese: ni hao (hello) and xie xie (thank you). And I know a decent bit about Tibet after watching Francis Ford Coppola’s Kundun and Jean-Jacques Annaud’s Seven Years in Tibet.
I think I will do well on that journey: have beef with fungus (that's a delicacy) on the way. Even try pangolins (horror or horrors). This is how the bastards kill the poor animal:
"We keep them alive in cages until the customer makes an order. Then we hammer them unconscious, cut their throats and drain the blood. It is a slow death. We then boil them to remove the scales. We cut the meat into small pieces and use it to make a number of dishes, including braised meat and soup. Usually the customers take the blood home with them afterwards."
Overall, it will be an interesting journey. Are you game?

Guilt trip in Phuket after the tsunami

I wrote this article for the Hindustan Times in 2005 after visiting Thailand -- for five days -- to see first-hand the tsunami reconstruction work. The trip was sponsored by the Thai Tourism Bureau and needless to say, they were very unhappy with this article. But this is what I saw in Phuket, despite what our minders wanted us to see.

Phuket struggles with ghosts; or is it guilt?

The beach umbrellas are back in Phuket, spanking new, like much else in this scenic tourist locale that was battered by the tsunami nearly three months ago.
Phuket is beautiful once more, back in business. But that's the point, there's not much business. This Thai resort town needs to exorcise its tsunami ghosts for that.
Ghost stories have been doing the rounds since the tragedy. There was a 'case' of a tuk-tuk (taxi) driver stopping to talk to foreigners on the road, but his passengers couldn't see anyone. Then there was a tailor who took a foreigner's measurements but later realised that the man had no legs.
But 'ghosts' are not scaring away tourists from Phuket, the guilt of having fun in a 'ghost town' is. Authorities are also battling misconceptions. This year, Belgians Natalie and Robert Bergen visited Phuket for the fourth time. It has been rebuilt and looks better, they said, but decided to leave after a day because they felt uncomfortable. Why? Because Robert said he had seen victims being buried at the beaches.
That is just the kind of misconception that has done Phuket in, said Andreas Kutschka, a diving instructor. He said the government had made elaborate arrangements to identify the dead and return them to their native countries. He said most of his customers were not returning because they felt having a good time in the sea that had killed thousands wasn't right.
This guilt is consuming Phuket's tourism, especially its once-bustling beachlife. The scene at joints along the beaches is eerie. The tables are all laid out in the evening but there's hardly a soul around. By midnight, the workers pack up and leave. This is when the 'ghost town' really haunts you.

PHUKET REVISITED
(Wrote this one because I loved Phuket -- and also because I had to placate some ruffled feathers at Thailand tourism bureau because of the article above)

This is probably the best time to visit Phuket.
Air fares are heading southwards and with tourist arrivals down after the tsunami, the government is going for a major push to woo visitors back. You'll get way too many deals and unbridled attention in the Thai resort town.

And the moment you land in Phuket, you'll fall in love with it. At the airport, you'll find smiling and helpful officials (and that's like a gust of fresh air if you are flying from Delhi). Outside you'll find clean toilets, smooth highways and roads and infrastructure that's really geared towards tourism ­ buses with high seating and low flooring (you have to climb seven steps to get to your seat and the bus is just one foot from the ground) are particularly amazing.

After the tsunami, Phuket looks even more beautiful. The umbrellas and chairs on the beach are all new, the yatchs and boats have got a fresh coat of paint, the unauthorised constructions are gone, and the sand and water are cleaner and greener.

But the killer waves have left a scar. Iyo Dufour, an Einstein lookalike who plays the great scientist in TV shows in Belgium, visits Phuket regularly. This year, he spent only a day there. He said would return for a longer visit next year, when things settle down.

It was sentiments like Dufour's that forced the government to give tourism a big push. Around a fortnight back, the Tourist Authority of Thailand spent Baht 15 million and Thai Airways another Baht 19 million to host over 800 journalists and travel agents from around the world to let people know that Phuket was back in business. But for a town that takes its tourism seriously, that seemed like extravagance.

Phuket is a sea of greenery and you would have to really struggle to find a spot of dust. And it has something to offer for everyone. If you are the shopping types, there are many malls (Tesco Lotus is the cheapest) or the local markets. If you want a spot of the sun and sea, there are a host of beaches. If you wish to rock the night away, try Bangla Road which has many pubs and restaurants and even a fight club.

Foodwise, the place has a lot to offer: from the legendary Thai food to Italian, Indian, continental... You name it, Phuket has it.

But the best thing to do would be to spare an evening for Phuket Fantasea, a nighttime cultural theme park. Spread over 140 acres, you could either shop for souvenirs or try your hand at the numerous games. Then, head for the Palace of the Elephants to see the Thai version of Ramayana. The dinner and show costs Baht 1,500 but every second of the show is worth the money.

Seeing the beauty of Phuket and its people, I guess I have become a statistic for Thailand. I would join the over-4 lakh visitors that visit Thailand every year ­ and come back a content breed.

Factfile
How to get there: From Delhi, there's a stopover at Bangkok. Tickets from Rs 10,000 to Rs 18,000
Where to stay: Several resorts along the beach offer spectacular views. Try Hilton or Thavorn Resort
What to do: Hit Bangla Road for music, food and to watch a fight in the ring. Must-visit is Phuket Fantasea, a nighttime cultural theme park

Delhi belly: Civic sense? Yes, I did study civics in school

E-T-T-I...
No it's E-T-I....
OK, E-T-I-Q-E...
No, you moron.
Q is nearly always followed by U.
OK, E-T-I-Q-U-E-T-E. Right?
Are you from Delhi?
Yes, how did you guess.
'Coz you don't know how to spell etiquette.

Civic sense, etiquette, ethics... words like these do not exist in an average Delhiite's dictionary. Sure, we live in the capital of one of the fastest growing economies in the world. But that doesn't stop us from spitting anywhere, treating walls like urinals, driving like a nutcase, gypping people... the list is endless.

Take the Metro, for instance. Cool contraption. Ferries around 5.25 lakh people every day. Is air-conditioned. Runs till late in the night. Ensures you reach your destination in the stipulated time, no matter what. Day after day. But look how the crowd behaves at some of the important stations. Some morons -- both inside and outside -- try to force open the door even before the train comes to a complete halt. Nobody gives a damn about people who try to get out. They cover the entire exit and rush in, taking along those who are trying to get out. So, was Mr Sreedharan wrong when he said Delhi doesn't deserve the Metro?

The situation is no different on the road. Everybody wants to go first. No matter what. And, God forbid, if the traffic flow in their lane stalls for a while and the other one is moving at a snail's pace, wham! They'll get into the other lane, cutting the guy who was supposed to move because his lane is moving. The Smart Ass has got an accelerator and a brake, you see. He needs to cut other people because his car can start and stop.

I never realised we are such morons till a met a group of tourists from Malta in Nepal some years back. They had just reached Kathmandu after being taken for a ride in Delhi. Realising I was a journalist from the city they had just been gypped in, they started complaining. As a journo, I should do something abou the cheats that hang around the airport, they said. True, I replied, we should do something. But I told them that Delhi has a mix of really nice people and just a handful of fraudsters. We got talking about the Indian society then. I told them that nearly all of the municipal workers in Delhi do not qork. And some people like throwing their garbage from their balconies, I told them. You really hate your people, that is DEFINITELY not true, I was told. No, serious, I said. The garbage collector dumps the waste collected from our housing society in a plot bang adjacent to ours, I told them. NO WAY, the guy from Malta said. That CANNOT be true. He just didn't believe me. How could ANYONE dump garbage outside their housing complex. Such things were unheard of anywhere else in the word, he said.

I returned from Nepal the next day thinking about what the Guy From Malta had said. Had I exaggerated a bit? Had I let my country down in front of foreigners? Was I guilty as sin? Just then, I had to go to the airport washroom. And all my doubts just drifted away. Never ever did I find the stink in the loo so refreshing. I had been vindicated. We truly are a bunch of dirty people.