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May – June 2014
No strictly scheduled, 28-day outdoor course would be complete without a proper chill-fest afterwards, and the few days following graduation were perfectly spent doing absolutely nothing back in Rishikesh. Sadly, Dhruv, a joyful dude with a contagious laugh, had to get back to Delhi immediately for work, but the majority of our core-group was able to post-up above the Ganga and unwind. Luckily, I will most likely be seeing him again because he serves as a program director at the Himalayan Outward Bound, and I would be honored to give my time to the organization and kids. I whole-heartedly believe that exposing children to the wonders of nature is one of the most positive things you can do for them; it is an opportunity for them to leave behind their everyday external influences and allow the simplicity of nature to influence their bodies and minds. It didn’t take us long to kick the early-rising schedule of the course, but anytime we heard the familiar sound of a whistle of the clinkity clank of pots and pans, our minds told us it was time for tea or a meal. We decided to be ambitious and squeeze in a crazy low-budget rafting trip before our buddy Ez, and an animated Argentinean from the basic course, zoomed off to Nepal to conquer the three passes In Sagarmatha. It was much more rough and thrilling than I could have imagined 
after observing the smooth waters that flow through the central parts of the tourist district, but I struggled not to vomit after a night of celebratory inebriation centered around Eminem marathons and sloppy freestyle sessions. Victor, one of my favorite classmates, happened to be a huge fan of Mr. Mathers, so he was the perfect companion to bust flows with once the booze loosened us up a bit. In-between pizza-binging, we also managed to attempt the “momo challenge” for a second time. Lucas and I came up with this remarkable gut-test in Kathmandu, where a plate of street momos, basically dumplings with a superior name, costs only $.50. The goal is to consume one-hundred of these bad-boys before throwing in the towel. We failed miserably the first time around, so it was imperative to try again. After committing to the marathon of gluttony, we realized that Rishikesh wasn’t the best location for the competition (because of its religious significance, the food is mostly vegetarian), and there weren’t even many places that served momos, so the options were limited. We went for it anyway, and the owners of a tiny hole-in-the-wall refused all business for the night while we blasted tunes and scarfed cabbage wrapped in dough by the plate of ten. When a group of travelers stopped by and asked what we were doing and we told them we were Americans, they responded, “that makes sense, only Americans would have an eating competition.” They tasted alright at first, but I was soon shoving four or five in my mouth at a time just to get them down. Eventually, they were too undesirable to carry on. Lucas gulped eighty-three, the most by far, but even he was too turned-off by the bland, unexciting flavor. We called it just in time, because the owners started accusing us of taking drugs (not true at all), but I guess he assumed that only someone on substances would attempt something so ridiculous. Another challenge, no victor, but it definitely won’t be the last! The deed has to be done. The heat was rising in the town nestled in the foothills, so we departed from our buddies and traveled further north into the green, lush state of Himachal Pradesh. (more…)
Beyond the Concrete 