Rickshaw Day 13 - Guwahati to Shillong

Day 13.

Rain fell as Team Catan awoke in their comfortable quarters at the DBI. Mario took a run in the downpour. Martin took Benny, Christian, and Charly to the train station to witness the plight of local homeless kids. Katja and I missed the early departure when we got lost in DBI’s maze-like stairwells and passages. We got a long-overdue chance to get to know one another. Since it would be Team Catan's last road day with rickshaws, it was a timely chat.

Once everyone got back, we ate, repacked, and donned orange t-shirts. Then came time for us to go down to our rickshaws. The rain abated in time for our departure. There, the students gathered for photos, autographs, more speeches and a big farewell. Benny placed a pair of fluffy Catan dice around Johnson’s shoulders. I did the same with Martin.

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As the red, white, and blue rickshaws set off with a motorcycle escort through the streets of Guwahati, the rain picked up again. Bihu over and a market day beginning, Guwahati was awash with traffic. Our trio of rickshaws followed the motorbikes toward center city, where we turned into a narrow gateway tunnel that led to the courtyard of Guwahati’s huge, multi-balcony Don Bosco High School. Some 2600 kids awaited us, yelling and waving from each of the school’s four levels. Team Catan drove in circles around the wide, paved courtyard to great applause.

After we ascended the stage and sat like visiting royalty, young girls approached us and, one-by-one, placed yet another traditional red and white Assamese scarf around each crew member's neck. Festivities ensued with band and song performances. Here, we heard our first choir. It was another show of beauty, talent, love, and pageantry. Once again overwhelmed with thanks and joy, we waved and bid goodbye. Team Catan exited via the tunnel, picked up some motorcycle guides, and drove southward through the city. Our escort waved and broke away at the city’s edge.

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We now ascended into the hills south of Guwahati. The road wound up, down, and further up again as we left Assam and entered the highland state of Meghalaya. Here, the roughly 2000 meter ascent would test our rickshaws more than ever. The way up required good pacing and longer, more frequent engine rests.

Olivia and I had the easiest challenge, for the white rickshaw carried but two passengers. Our gearing was more forgiving and I could jump to fourth for much longer stretches. The grade affected each driver and rickshaw differently, making it hard to stay in order and keep regular spacing. We’d drive 50 km before we got the rhythm down.

In the meantime, we encountered 8-10 of our fellow rickshawers. Our only gas stop brought reunions and plenty of road tale exchanges. We could all feel that the finish line was but a few rests away. As we left the petrol station in a phalanx, a road party began. The weaving dance inspired photos, videos, and handshakes for most of the up and down drive toward Shillong.

In time, the road split and we found ourselves in the incredibly scenic highland lake country that gives Shillong its nickname as the “Scotland of the East.” We even stopped at a scenic overlook, where Team Catan’s women all chatted with a trio of young guys rooted in local lore and Hindu history. One was from Nagaland and confirmed the power and preeminence of that state’s legendary pepper.

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![file] . Shillong covered the hilltops some 100 km south of Guwahati. It had been a favorite British colonial retreat. Now it was a boomtown. The mix of tourism and coal mining created an odd juxtaposition of haves and have-nots. Poverty stood out starkly in its crowded, winding streets and stifling back alleys.

We of course arrived on market day. Since the locals had skipped recent market days, the influx of people and vehicles was especially choking. Team Catan inched up the lanes, often in our rarely-used first gear. The plan was to find the Hotel Barbareek, rendezvous with Ron and Cathy, check in, drop gear, clean up, and then proceed to the finish line. Given the hotel’s tight and obscure alley location by a stinking, rotting, vegetable dump, we spent a lot of time parking and shuttling gear.

Ron and Cathy were nowhere to be seen, nor was the orange rickshaw. Part of the mystery was immediately solved when two guys from the local Don Bosco school arrived to collect the hauling fee for transporting the rickshaw up from Kokrahjar via Guwahati. We paid them and instructed them to haul the rickshaw down to the finish line at the polo stadium. They claimed that they could also transport Cathy and Ron, who were purportedly at the school. (In fact, our two compadres were asleep elsewhere in the hotel!)

The long, drizzly drive from the hotel to the finish line took us through one of the great traffic jams in world history. The congestion, coupled with the fact that no one could locate the hidden finish line, created a slapstick adventure. Other lost rickshaws joined us. It took us an hour to negotiate a couple of km and find our appointed goal in a parking lot adjoining the stadium. We drove up to the finish line with three rickshaws around 5:00 pm.

Rather than crossing the elevated line, though, we elected to park and await the arrival of Cathy, Ron, and their orange rickshaw. Team Catan began turning in their documents and filling out forms just to get a jump on closure. Before we were finished with bureaucratic niceties and darkness began to fall, the DBI truck bearing the orange rickshaw showed. Matt and the Adventurists crew assisted us in gathering about a dozen rickshawers and lifting our rickshaw right off the truck’s flat bed.

No sooner had we gotten the orange rickshaw down, then Cathy and Ron arrived. They told us that we had missed them at the hotel!

Given the fact that their rickshaw was wounded, we gave Cathy the honor of crossing the finish first. She and Ron drove over the dais in triumph. Olivia and I followed. Then game Katja, Arnd, and Christian. Charly, Mario, and Benny served cleanup. Team Catan was done! We had driven our four rickshaws over 3000 km in support of the Childaid Network and introduced our brand to India in a novel, positive way. It was time to celebrate!

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As we piled onto the buses to head off to the Adventurists’ big Rickshaw Party, Mario and Benny got off to help Charly find her purse. The rest of us missed the memo. Later we would discover that Charly’s purse had been stolen. All of her credit cards, money, and camera stuff were gone. Priceless images had disappeared with the theft and Charly faced a rough police investigation, followed by a difficult 3-day exit out of India. Apparently, one of the roving sports fans existing the stadium had nicked her purse. She was rightfully crushed.

Nonetheless, Charly, Mario, and Benny joined us the party, where there was music, awards, dancing, food, and a bar. Sadly, our beer vouchers only entitled us to lukewarm Buds. Happily, the local rockabilly band really knew their licks. All of us very festive rickshawers had a blast. Matt hosted a hilarious awards ceremony highlighted by the funny tale of our fellow rickshawers blundering into our parade and ceremony in Boko (see my last blog entry). Cathy won a flagon award for surviving her driving accident and gave a great speech. Charly won a photo award. All of us laughed, drank, and (to varying degrees) danced. It was a fitting celebration.

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Team Catan hugged and toasted our collective victory as early as the finish line. So, as the party wore on, we felt comfortable enough to leave in two groups. Charly, Ron, and Cathy stayed through last call. All of us ultimately returned to the Hotel Barbareek in the dark rain and had to make big noise in order for the hoteliers to come down and let us in. Besieged by a dirty, tough neighborhood and lacking any doorbell, the hotel challenged us with one last obstacle before we could all find our triumphant resting place. It was oddly fitting, for everything about the Rickshaw Run was infused with adventure. Nothing came easy. But hard victory brought sweet joy.

Rickshaw Day 12 - Kokrajhar to Guwahati

Day 12.

It was another light blue ("Seafarers") t-shirt day.

As Team Catan rose early in Kokrajhar, Assam, we were missing four crew mates. Charly had woken well before dawn to strike off on her own quest to ride Asian elephants. Our team wanted to see her dreamed fulfilled, and Johnson’s driver made it happen. Charly was on her way eastward, where she would meet elephants and explore temples. Unlike Olivia, Cathy, Ron, and I, our six European teammates had been unable to tour the Jain temples of Jaisalmer.

Ron and Cathy would also set off on their own, this time in quest of Assamese tea. Meanwhile, the orange rickshaw had developed steering problems late the previous day, so we sent it ahead to Shillong on a truck. Cathy and Ron would reunite with it in time to finish our great rickshaw run, but this day they’d be buying tea for the team. Katja accompanied them on the morning leg.

After a wonderful sendoff from Father Damian and the Don Bosco High School kids, six of us took the blue, red, and white rickshaws over a rolling, scenic back road toward the Brahmaputra Bridge and Goalpata. A security escort led the way. Team Catan drove through small, bamboo-built villages and past brightly-painted plantation-style homes. Crossing rickety wood bridges, we encountered very little traffic but bicycles. It seems that bikes replace motorcycles as a principal mode of travel in India’s great Northeast. It’s in keeping with the cooler, cleaner, quieter, and richer vibe of Assam’s Brahmaputra Valley.

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Soon after we hit the main road, we met up with Katja, Cathy, and Ron. Katja joined the blue rickshaw. Cathy and Ron continued tea quest. They would meet us at the next school gathering, which was in Goalpata. Team Catan then set off (sans security) across the very long Brahmaputra Bridge. We were told it was the first crossing downstream from the Guwahati Bridge, some 300 km upstream (to the east). A fierce wind buffeted the rickshaws as we road southward over the beautiful, bumpy span. . As we approached Goalpata, we picked up a different security team and a welcome parade of pennant-bearing bicycles and motorcycles. Martin and Johnson had mustered another school celebration for Team Catan, this one consisting of hundreds of kids. Again, we were feted with music, dance, and charming words of welcome. By now, many speakers simply referred to us as the “Catans.”

Young girls placed traditional Assamese scarves around our necks and the festivities began with a marching band. Struck once again by the beauty, talent, love, and pageantry, our team savored a great end to a very special morning. Then we waved goodbye and drove east toward Boko, a large market town bearing the same name as the local majority tribe. An escort led us out of Goalpata.

After passing a number of villages, all built on elevated ground and connected to the main road by dirt causeways or delicate wooden bridges, we came upon another assembly of smiling 2-wheeled escorts. They led us into Boko.

Cathy and Ron briefly reunited with us at the Boko school, but they had a faraway appointment. It was only later that they’d tell us that a group of our fellow rickshawers had preceded us and been mistaken for Team Catan. The 1600 school kids had started the marching band and begun their ceremonial hello before realizing that there were other rickshaws driving the Assamese roads that day. Confused, our fellow rickshawers had enjoyed the escort and music and driven to the school. Their donned hats before discovering the nature of the peculiar welcome. (This event would later strike the Adventurists as the funnest moment of the Rickshaw Run.)

Festivities in Boko resembled those of Goalpata, but on a larger scale. We received more scarves. Music, dance performances, and speeches followed. Benny spoke on Team Catan’s behalf.

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Our crew then broke toward the rickshaws through a sea of handshakes, pictures, and smiles. Mario rode a bike to great delight. As with the dancing the prior night, he continued to be our best ambassador to the Assamese kids. We then bid an emotional farewell. Team Catan continued eastward on 37 toward Guwahati. Our route paralleled the course of the wide Brahmaputra. We drove upstream some 70 more kms before reaching the edge of Guwahati, Assam’s chief city.

Guwahati is strung along the south bank of the Brahmaputra for about 20 km. Here, hills come down close to the river and islands punctuate the winding waters. Team Catan passed the airport, then the Guwahati Bridge, then downtown. We took a break at the ferry crossing for pictures of a beautiful sunset.

As darkness fell we entered the steep uphill drive into the multi-tiered Din Bosco Institute (DBI). There, Charly, Cathy, and Ron awaited us. So too did the orange rickshaw, which sat in the bed of a flatbed truck. It would leave for Shillong the next day.

Johnson was DBI’s current director. He had explained that we had become part of their 200th Anniversary celebration.

Once we negotiated the many floors, halls, and balconies that form the DBI’s fanciful HQ, we set up in rooms and cleaned up for the night’s festivities. This was to be the biggest and most elaborate of our many welcome parties.

We met at the institute’s great amphitheater. A graceful and enthusiastic Pinky, a DBI alum, served as master of ceremonies. She kept the crowd of students, student teachers, and faculty focused and stirred. Numerous tribal-based song and dance acts followed. All reflected the diversity and beauty of NE India. Groups from all over Assam, Arunachal Pradesh, Nagaland, and Meghalaya performed. The kids simply blew us away. Speeches followed. Benny and I both offered thanks and spoke of the Team Catan mission before the grand finale.

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Then we retired upstairs for a buffet dinner. There, all of the rest of Team Catan issued their own thankful and moving words. Again, Team Catan had found a distant but welcoming home.

home

We head for home today. We are looking forward to seeing you all again and are grateful for all your good wishes and donations. We have stayed in what is probably the best hotel in Calcutta. It has been lovely but knowing the poverty outside has made us uncomfortable. The trip has been wonderful and we return enriched and invigorated. Grateful for our easy access to sanitation and education, longing for cheese on toast, sad to be returning to restrictive traffic rules and losing the colour,smells, madness and warmth of India. See you all very soon.

Day 15.. And so we've come, to the end of the road

300km and we are done.

Writing this now feels somewhat bitter-sweet. Its over and while both of us are more than ready for it to end, that's it.. No more India, trucks, cows, mayhem and endless roads. No more adventure!

We got up early so we we had the best chance of making it, even if we had a breakdown. We sailed down the road pretty quickly and were soon in Guwahati. Only 100km to go!

The road took a sharp turn uphill and while I still need to check what elevation, we climbed and climbed for hours. I knew it would be hilly but this was constant. We stopped eventually to take photos of the entrance to Shillong.

The town however was easily the worst place we have been to and driven through.. Was just awful. It took us an hour to do 4km to the hotel. When we got to the hotel, we were a bit taken aback by the absolute squalor of the place.. Not something we had seen in the other towns, this was much worse.

Our hotel was nice enough but we decided rather than level the rickshaw outside, we would the it back to the Adventurists HQ as by this time, some guy was using it as a phone box!

The drive to the Adventurists hotel was no better and by this time we were starved. We only ate a light breakfast at 6.30am and this was now past 4pm. We eventually made it the 3km through horrible traffic and were able to hand over our docs and fill up some forms and they passed us over a beer which we couldn't possibly drink as we were now shaking through lack of food and water.

Brooke (one of the Adventurists team), kindly went and got us some samosas and pakoras so we could at least eat something. After sitting for a while, we were asked to take our rickshaw one final km to its parking spot. So, another small drive through town and somehow she decided to behave in slow traffic - you may remember me saying how she stalled moving into first gear which is a nightmare in slow traffic. I only stalled twice!

We parked up in the car park and got a final photo.. Then we went into the hotel to grab a quick bite to eat and then wait for one other teams who had made it the same day as us, I.e 2 days late!

In the hotel was an Irish pub which was nothing like one but hey, beggars and choosers. Pavol grabbed food and I stole some of his while we waited for the others. Eventually about 4 teams plus the Adventurists guys came along and we had a good few hours talking about our experiences and looking at some of the photos that one of the teams took.

Getting back from this hotel to our slum proved to be bit more complex. We were told it would be 1000 rupees for a taxi.. To go 2km! Then the security guard offered 250 rupees so we decided to just go with that. We followed him up the hill to where we thought his car was, constantly asking where he had parked.. Eventually we twigged that he was walking us home for 250 rupees! No thanks!!

We told him to bugger off and we walked the rest of the way ourselves with the assistance of Google. Not nice streets but they were pretty deserted. Getting into the hotel proved to be a challenge as the security guard didn't seem to have the keys but we did get in.

Sleeping proved to be an issue as there was an almighty dogfight somewhere outside which sounded horrible and went on for hours.

So that's it.. A bit anti climatic if I could be honest.. No parade, no medal of honour, no civic reception.. Just a horrible, smelly, dirty and dodgy town to stop over for the night.

hotel

Hotel like Fawlty Towers.We waited 40 minutes for breakfast to arrive - stale cornflakes with warm milk and wevils. Very very noisy. The banging on the door through the night and -I jest not!- sign to the cum spa later explained when we were told we were staying in a brothel. Good party. David and I left on one of the early buses before the young things covered each other in paint. Hence Scarlet's green hair.

Next day to Calcutta. Guwahati airport hot on security but not so good on announcements.We felt like Crocodile Dundee in Calcutta. Traffic lights! Traffic on right side of the road! No spitting! Best spitting story is rickshaw in truck. Truck driver spat out of the window which was closed.. No one staring, no one waving, no one taking photos of us. We feel lost.

Today found an amazing charity to give tent etc to. Looking after street children in many ways. Coffee mornings at the Brow here I come!

Shillong!

We were nervous we wouldn't get Felix out of the mall but when we set off at 5.30 the porter asleep under a mosquito net leapt into action and all was well. There were many roadworks and it was a matter of luck which side of the road we ended up on - not that it matters much. I haven't pulled my weight driving, only doing straight hazard free bits - about 20 yards so far. Shillong is high and Felix struggled. We thought he might break down before the line but no! We came in 8 out of 83 (photo) We are staying in a room in Shillong where there is the usual 2 hour quest to turn the light on.Indian hotel rooms have a dazzling array of switches and taps. We watched other teams come in and heard some great stories. The smog in towns is so bad that one team started smoking as it made their chest feel better.Like their reasoning. One person flown home with a skull fracture.Very cool American lady hit truck, rolled rickshaw and skidded to a halt and asked her husband to take rickshaw off her head. 3 whiskies for £4 and peanuts served with chillies on side...

Shillong!

We were nervous we wouldn't get Felix out of the mall but when we set off at 5.30 the porter asleep under a mosquito net leapt into action and all was well. There were many roadworks and it was a matter of luck which side of the road we ended up on - not that it matters much. I haven't pulled my weight driving, only doing straight hazard free bits - about 20 yards so far. Shillong is high and Felix struggled. We thought he might break down before the line but no! We came in 8 out of 83 (photo) We are staying in a room in Shillong where there is the usual 2 hour quest to turn the light on.Indian hotel rooms have a dazzling array of switches and taps. We watched other teams come in and heard some great stories. The smog in towns is so bad that one team started smoking as it made their chest feel better.Like their reasoning. One person flown home with a skull fracture.Very cool American lady hit truck, rolled rickshaw and skidded to a halt and asked her husband to take rickshaw off her head. 3 whiskies for £4 and peanuts served with chillies on side...