Bodhgaya, First Impresions
It’s Xiangtan, with rickshaws. Autorickshaws that maneuver like go-carts, nimbly dodging left and right at angles that would make normal cars spin out. The other difference in the gloomy pre-dawn is the presence of massive, drooping trees in the rice paddies and vegetable patches. They run along the borders of cultivation, but also spring up unexpectedly smack in the path of the mud-greased plow. In China these useless trees would have been razed long ago in the interest of expanding he area of cultivation just that little bit. Here, it seems they provide just enough shade, just enough nooks and crannies and hiding spots to allow a miniature ecosystem not limited to the agricultural to flourish.
Soot is caked around my nose and under my fingernails, likely from the coal warming the milk tea the persistent seller paraded around the coach all night. The air is cleaner here, now that the sun is out this place is seeming more like a warmer, lower-elevation version of Tibet, with asian faces of all varieties roving about. Some of the Tibetan women have cute, Hong Kong style chin-length haircuts. No longer blistered by the unbridled sun and wind of the plateau, their cheeks still show a hint of rosiness, but their skin is brighter, unblemished, beautifully youthful. Combined with the old Tibetan playful energy and penchant for unexpected smiles they are very nearly irresistible!
Not so Xiangtan after all! What a relief! But the mosquitoes …